When I woke up in the morning, Ares wasn’t in the tent, but his warmth and scent lingered. I inhaled, half-closing my eyes, remembering what had transpired yesterday.

Ice had burned in my veins, and Ares had expelled the cursed cold with his body heat. His touch had not only brought out the ravenous lust in me; it could also heal me. With his aide, I awaked with such vigor.

Lying alone half-naked in the bedroll, I missed the prince’s presence. I was warm now, but I had another need for him. I inserted my fingers into my panties and brushed my sex. It was hot and wet with aching want.

Then I heard voices outside the tent. My hearing wasn’t as superior as an Angel’s, but it was sharper than any other earthling species. I pricked my ear and concentrated. Ares was conversing with Caen behind the tree that he’d hacked yesterday.

“What’s going on, Ares?” the no-longer-silent Dragonian asked. “You’ve never acted jealous before when it came to women. You were always casual and you were never territorial. What’s so special about this wolf girl?”

Ares warned, “Careful, cousin.”

Cousin? Caen was Ares’ royal cousin? 

“You almost twisted off the shifter’s head last night,” his cousin said. “You’d never fought your men over a woman, regarding it beneath you. But ever since you bought this wolf girl along, you’ve been acting like a virgin boy under her spell.”

“I’m not a virgin boy,” Ares snapped. “And she has a name.”

“Have you slept with her?” his cousin asked.

“That’s none of your business,” Ares snarled.

“If you sleep with her, you throw away everything you’ve worked so hard for.” Now that Caen had opened his mouth, he wouldn’t stop. “Your fealty is to the First Witch,” he continued. “If you aren’t faithful to her, you’ll lose your perfect mate and true queen. Have you forgotten the Oracle’s words—only the First Witch will bring you the greatest kingdom Earth has ever seen and produce superior offspring that none other race could compete with?”

My heart sank. No wonder Ares desired the witch more than anyone. Which man on Earth could turn that down? It wasn’t a temptation. It was an irresistible promise.

“I haven’t slept with Freyja,” Ares said.

I bet he was proud of himself. He would have hated both of us if he had acted on his lust for me last night.

Caen blew out a relieved breath.

“Maybe I don’t want the great kingdom,” Ares said in a dejected voice. “Maybe I’m no longer that ambitious.”

My heart stuttered.

“Did you hear what you just said, Ares?” Caen demanded. “If you think with your dick, you’ll also lose Atlantis. Your father’s kingdom will be divided and there will be a civil war. Your pure-bred bothers have considerable supporters. Many won’t follow a half-blood heir after you father is gone, unless you bring them a new prospect. Only when you secure the First Witch, and she shows her great, terrifying power and gives you a superior heir and children, it will convince our race that your father’s idea of the hybrids and super species is indeed the future of our people. Only then, will your rule never be contested again.”

The Dragonians placed such a burden on the First Witch—she had to bring Prince Darken a grandeur kingdom on Earth, breed super-race children for him, and display her terrifying power in front of the entire nation to convince them.

What woman in her sane mind would want that?

I was so glad that they only knew me as the wolf girl, who was supposed to be wild, free, and irresponsible. Good luck finding the witch. Let them chase their own tails.

I sat up and thanked Goddess Rhea that this bunch would never, ever, connect me to the witch.

But why had the Oracle sent Ares to me?

Merlin had also said I would be a great queen.

Give me a break.

After what I’d heard today, I would rather not claim the she-beast at the bottom of the lake and demonstrate a forbidden, terrifying power.

I would bring chains to myself being the First Witch.

I would be free forever being a wolf girl, until the day I expired.

I would shove the “greatness” up anyone’s ass but mine.

I dressed myself and stretched a bit as I continued eavesdropping. The duo was basically whispering. They didn’t think anyone could hear them.

Good thing they kept underestimating me.

“The witch is your future,” Caen said. “What can Freyja offer you? Sure, she’s a wild beauty, but you’ve had so many beautiful women in your bed that you lost count. None of them even left an impression. Perhaps the wolf girl is different—I’ve never seen you look at any other women the way you look at her, but this infatuation will pass. No matter how special she is to you right now, she isn’t the great First Witch. Only your fated mate will bear your offspring and share your throne. If you screw the girl, you’ll lose everything. If she becomes the threat to your future and your kingdom and you don’t have the heart to take her out, I’ll do it for you.”

I heard a ferocious snarl from Ares, then a gagging sound from his cousin.

“I don’t care how loyal you are to me,” Ares said, the brutality in his voice making me shudder. “I don’t care that you’re my first cousin. And I don’t give a damn that you’ll do everything to help me secure my rule. But if you lay a finger on or have anyone touch Freyja—I swear on my mother’s grave—I’ll erase you and your entire house from the face of Earth.”

Indecipherable noises followed Ares’ words. It seemed that Ares had let go of Caen.

“I won’t harm the girl,” Caen said after he stopped coughing. “But you need to let her go. She’s wrong for you in every way.”

“I appreciate your concern,” Ares said. “How I deal with Freyja is my own fucking business.”

“I won’t say it again,” Caen said. “In the end you’ll have to choose: living with nothing with the wolf girl or living with the witch who can give you everything.”

I strode toward them like I owned the mountains. They snapped their heads at me. Caen’s gaze on me darkened, but Ares’ only brightened. I wasn’t wearing the cloak that usually concealed my face and I hadn’t put on my gloves.

“Ares,” I asked, bracing hands on my hips, “where’s the breakfast?”

~

 

Ares hadn’t been joking last night when he’d said we would be on patrol today.

“Why do you need me for this, Prince Darken?” I asked, standing several feet away from Ventus and refusing to get on his back. “I’m not a scout and I don’t like chores.”

The main reason I didn’t want to go was because I was afraid of being spotted by the Angels. Eye-patch might have brought more of his pals to look for me. The Dark Lord had seen me through the link. His charcoal eyes had stared back at me like endless pit, making me shudder with chills. His legion could be upon Earth anytime now.

“What did I say about earning a keep last night?” Ares said. “And I’ve just fed you.”

“I don’t care about earning my keep,” I said. “Why don’t you just throw me out?”

Ares stalked toward me. “Wherever I go, you go. I lead, you follow. It should always be that way.”

“Who says so?” I said as I backed away from him. “All my life I’ve followed no one. I’m not going to start now.”

Ares growled.

“Freyja, I have a proposal,” Ventus said. He watched our argument with a keen interest. Wild wind was in his nature. He didn’t like harmony. He thrived from chaos.

“That’s not completely true,” the guardian frowned at me. “I’m only thinking of your benefit this time. You can either go see the spectacular view of the war zone with the prince and me or stay here let your Dragonian nemeses glare at you the entire day. They won’t cook you lunch.”

Einarr wasn’t around. The three Dragonians might scheme to kill me. Caen had proposed to take me out this morning. And I had no lethal weapon against them since they now all knew about my death touch.

“What war zone?” I asked.

“Humans are fighting Kinnaras on the other side of the mountains we’ll have to cross,” Ares said, regarding the spark in my eyes before turning to Ventus. “Let’s go without her. We invited her for a grand view, and she thought it a chore.” He no longer advanced toward me, but strode back to the guardian.

“Wait!” I called, chasing after him. “Do you mean centaurs?”

“Yeah,” he said in a bored tone. “The half-man half-horse species.”

“I’ve never seen a centaur before,” I said. “I’ll go patrol with you.”

“You aren’t needed anymore,” he said. “Actually, you’re dismissed. I can’t allow you to keep nagging—”

I ran past Ares toward Ventus.

Ares had always lifted me and placed me on the guardian’s back in the past when I’d pretended to be fragile. Now that everyone knew my lethal secret, there was no need for any pretense.

I broke into a run and leapt. Effortlessly and gracefully, I landed on Ventus’ massive shoulder.

You should have giving me a fair warning, Witchling, Ventus said.

I thought you preferred my dramatic entrances, I said.

Yeah, well, he said.

I settled on the seat and turned to give Ares a victorious look.

Everyone dropped their jaws, amazed at the height I could jump to. Only Lucas wasn’t around. I guessed he was still upset with Ares.

Ares looked at me, a golden light sparkled in his eyes, and there was undisguised desire in them. A pair of tiny wings did a funny flutter in my stomach. Now I was really looking forward to patrolling with him. I hoped he’d slide his strong arm around my waist when we were in the air. 

I’d slept on his warm chest last night and I still couldn’t get enough of him.

This feeling was more dangerous than pure lust. I wanted to fuck him, but I had no intention of falling for him. It’d be a miserable business to fall for the future ruler of Atlantis.

Ares shook his head. “If you want her to go one direction, all you need is to point to the other.”

He thought he’d figured me out, didn’t he?

Ventus flapped his vast, taloned wings and surged to the air. At the same time, Ares leapt, like an arrow, and sat behind me.

Did he always have to outshine me?

Ventus took us sailing across the snowy mountains.

He flew low and with leisure. I looked down at the multitude of white mountains sprawled beneath me and didn’t swat at the arm Ares snaked around my waist. He took it as a sign of encouragement and leaned into me to inhale my scent, his face almost buried in my neck.

Even his breath on my skin could bring me shivers of pleasure. I enjoyed it for a few more seconds before turning to scowl at him. “Why are you sniffing at me?” 

“I was curious what kind of soap you used,” he said. “It smells—interesting.”

“What do you mean, interesting?” I asked, annoyed. “It’s either good or bad. Interesting doesn’t say anything.”

He laughed. “It says something, and it’s interesting.”

Ventus also chuckled. It’s interesting, he said in my head.

“You didn’t bring any soap, so what could I use? And I didn’t get to bathe last night, unless you wanted me to freeze my ass off.”

He’d warmed me the whole night while I had only my undergarments. I also remembered the feel of his large, hard erection against my belly.

“Einarr bought all the toiletries you’d need,” Ares said lazily. “You should ask him.”

“Last time I asked, and you said—” I stopped. When I had bathed in the lake and asked him kindly to fetch me a soap, he’d said he and his team weren’t pussies that carried soap.

“Perhaps this is your natural smell?” he asked, his nose brushing my neck, as if he couldn’t get enough of my aroma.

To show my generosity, I let him sniff me.

Enveloped by his scent that reeked of territorial male and protectiveness, my fear of the Angels dissipated. I relaxed against him, watching the sunlight sparkle off a ridge of snow-capped mountains and the guardian’s scales.

Ventus glided through the landscape.

It was all like a beautiful dream.

Ares hadn’t brought up his precious witch much since he’d rescued me from the Angels. Before, he had constantly mentioned her with reverence. Now he seemed unwilling to get into the topic about her. It didn’t matter. We’d still be going in the direction he thought he would meet her.

You don’t know much about men, do you, Witchling? Ventus said in my head.

I know enough about men, I hissed.

Then you should know about his feelings for you, Ventus said. He got you to patrol with him in order to spend time with you alone.

We aren’t alone, I said. You’re here, listening to our every chat and intervening whenever you feel like.

I’m not the third wheel, Ventus said in annoyance. Anyway, the prince thinks about you all the time. 

Like you can read a man’s mind and heart, I snorted.

You’re all open books to me, Ventus said.

Really? I said. Read me.

The guardian tried to brush my mind, and I shoved and punched him.

Ouch! Ventus cried. You’re being difficult. But the prince’s mind has no shield. As a red-blooded hybrid Dragonian male, he thinks you have the loveliest body he’s ever seen. He relishes his every touch on it.

I blushed furiously. Ventus, that’s private.

Not to me, Ventus lazily blew out a steam of wind. I think we should probably end this game. It’s best you just tell him you’re the witch, so we can all go home. The Angels are hunting you. The prince will protect you with his great army in Atlantis.

I didn’t want to hurt his feelings by telling him that none of Atlantis’ army and his brethren could hold against the coming Angel legion. At some point, I would have to ditch all of them and go my own way. If I was lucky, I would reach Mysth in time. If I didn’t, there was no need to drag down the whole party with me.

I wasn’t being sentimental. I was merely practical.

It’s getting harder to keep your secret identity at all times, Ventus complained.

I can’t tell him. It’s complicated, I said. And you won’t tell him a thing either.

How can it be complicated? Ventus asked. I’ve never seen him want any woman like he wants you. Though his mind is slow to realize it due to your deception, his primal male instinct has recognized his mate.

Stop, Ventus!

You’re putting both of you through unnecessary torture, Ventus said.

When did you become a relationship expert? I retorted.

He wants you so much that he hates himself for it. He hates himself for not being able to be faithful to his future mate.

You’ve just said it, I said coldly. Ares doesn’t want me more than anyone. He wants the witch more than anyone.

But the witch and you are one and the same!

Not the same in his head! I said. He’ll choose her over me any second of the day. I understand his reason. The Oracle promised him that she would give him everything. No sane man would turn that down. But it isn’t because I’m bitter or vindictive that I won’t tell him who I am. Ares and I won’t have a future together. If he knows I’m the witch, he’ll be disappointed beyond consolation. He pictures her as his perfect mate and regards her as a goddess. Even if he finally accepts me as the witch, he’ll only lose me eventually. So you’ll zip your big mouth instead of meddling and breaking his heart.

What? Ventus asked. You lost me. What do you mean you two aren’t a perfect match? No one else can be more perfect for him. And how can he lose you?

No matter how close you are to him, Ventus, I sighed. The prince doesn’t think like you. He won’t want a woman just for love or lust. He’ll be the ruler of Atlantis. He’ll be the new Commander, a Dragonian king. He’s chasing the First Witch for the kingdom and many other benefits she’ll bring him.

You can do that, Ventus said. 

I’ve been living on a borrowed time, I said. My curse caught up with me last night. It’ll only get worse. I thought I had two years, but I was wrong. I don’t have much time.

What curse, Freyja? Ventus asked. His whole body tensed beneath me.

“Freyja,” Ares called, pulling me tightly against him, not liking the space between us.

“What?” I asked.

“I wonder what it means that I’m the only man who can touch you,” he said.

“You aren’t the only one,” I said, turning to look at him cheerfully.

He frowned at me. “Who else?” Then a light of delight sparked in his amber eyes. “Any man who touches you dies a painful death.”

“Have you forgotten Merlin can also touch me?” I asked. “You aren’t all that special, Prince.”

“The druid has a magical shield,” he said. “I’m but a normal man.”

“You’re genetically enhanced.”

“The guardians are also genetically-enhanced, intelligent, super beings,” Ares said. “But I doubt they can sustain your touch. Not that I encourage you to try on them.”

“My touch will harm them,” I admitted.

“That’s what I meant,” said Ares. “There’s a reason behind my immunity to your lethal touch.”

“There’s no special reason behind it whatsoever,” I insisted. “Merlin can touch me like a normal man as well. He didn’t put up his magical shield when he held my hands in his.”

A threatening grunt rumbled from Ares’ chest, and his dark eyes flashed displeasure. “He had no business holding your hands. Anyway, he’s far away. We won’t see him again.”

“I want to see him again,” I said. “If all goes well, my pack and I can live with Merlin after this is over.”

“You and your pack will live in my Atlantis palace,” Ares said, yet he didn’t mention how we were going to live with the witch.

“We’ll pass,” I said.

Ares growled. “No normal, sane woman would turn down my offer.”

Such arrogance.

“I’m not a normal woman,” I said. “I’m a wolf girl. Plus, Merlin has more to offer. He’s single, handsome, and powerful. He’s a king in his own rights. He can touch me just fine. He might even need a queen.”

Hadn’t Merlin said that I would be the queen to a great nation?

Though my interest in the druid was merely magical, I wasn’t going to explain that to Ares.

“You won’t go see him,” Ares said. “You’ll stay with me so I can protect you. You still have Angel hunters on your tail. Merlin is only one man, but I have a great army.”

“What will your witch think if I live in your palace?”

He paused, and Ventus held his breath, dying to know the answer as well.

“I think she’ll understand,” he said quietly, almost sadly.

I didn’t want to see him sad.

“Ventus,” I said, “you fly like an old man. Get us to the war zone so I can see the centaurs. I hope they’re drop-dead gorgeous and make my heart flutter.”

Ares growled again. Why was he jealous when all he wanted was the witch?

Ventus sped up and left the snowy mountains behind, and I sang a farewell song to Ventus in the native Earth tongue.

Ares rubbed his chin over my head. “Why are you singing a sad song, Freyja?” he asked tenderly. “You never told me about your parents. Who are they? How did you get this death touch? Tell me and I can help you. I helped you last night, didn’t I? I warmed your bed. Who are you really, Freyja?”

“I’m the First Witch,” I said.

Ventus plunged a hundred feet from the air as if he suddenly forgot how to fly.

“Sure,” Ares said, “and I’m the Dark Lord of All Angels.”

Ares would only call me delusional if I told him that the ancient, powerful being was actually my grandfather, who was sending his legion to come after me as we spoke.

See, I told him. He didn’t believe me, I said in Ventus’ head. You don’t need to feel guilty for not ratting me out. Even if one day he learns the truth, he can’t blame you. 

“Ares,” Ventus called.

I forbid you, I said with a command voice and the guardian startled, as was I.

My magic—the dark fire on my skin, the wind that had snuffed out Merlin’s spear of fire, and my power voice—had popped out now and then like sparks. But I had no control over it and no idea where to begin with.

If I could master my power, I wouldn’t be so worried about the Angel legion.

“Centaurs!” I cried in delight.

Beneath us, on the broad plains, two armies opposed each other. Humans on horses and on foot, carrying long spears and daggers; Proud centaurs, who had a man’s head and upper torso and a horse’s lower body and hooves, stood tall with their bows and axes.

“Are they magical beings?” I asked.

“They wield no magic,” said Ares. “They aren’t like the Fey. They aren’t like any species.”

“Can we drop lower so I can see the guys better?” I asked Ventus.

“No,” Ares said. “It’s dangerous.”

The centaurs were fascinating to watch until an archer spotted us and sent an arrow flying toward us.

“Dick!” I shouted.

Ares shattered the arrow with his ray gun, before it could scratch the thick scales on the guardian’s body. I approved when Ares shot the archer in retaliation.

The centaurs blew the horns, and humans beat the drums in response. Two bloodthirsty armies charged toward each other with battle cries, thrusting their spears before them and raising their axes.

Thousands of arrows flew toward the other sides.

Earth was such a violent planet. Unlike my mother, I wouldn’t sacrifice myself for these species.

“Get us out of here, Ventus,” Ares ordered. “Freyja is done with sightseeing.” 

His arm wrapped around me to shield me; his other hand trained the ray gun toward the ground, ready to take out any threat. Ventus was vigilant as well.

“We just got here,” I said.

“Any of the flying arrows can hurt you,” Ares snapped.

“But we’re so high in the air,” I said.

“I’m not taking any chance with you around,” he said.

I wanted to watch the war. I wanted to learn to fight a war since I would face one soon.

“I’m not made of a glass,” I said.

“You are to me,” he said.

I turned to glare at him. Overbearing—

“Should we worry about the humans’ aggression, Your Highness?” Ventus asked. “They breed so fast. They’ve taken one-third of the continents.”

“Not yet,” said Ares. “While they’re still engaged in primary warfare.”

Despite the humans’ speedy evolution, the Dragonians remained the technologically dominant race. I guessed Ares wasn’t too concerned since he held onto the Oracle’s promise—the First Witch would give him a superior offspring.

Did I look like one who would give birth to a super race?

I almost laughed at the irony, but then I thought of Ares’ touch. I thought of sleeping in his arms. My skin was starved for his every stroke. My body, even now, was on fire in his embrace.

“Should we go this route tomorrow?” the guardian asked.

“We’ll make a detour,” Ares said. “Anything can happen in the war zone. Besides, we’re in no hurry to reach south.”

In no hurry? Now he wasn’t in a hurry to meet the witch. But I needed to get to Mysth as soon as possible. The curse had hit me badly last night. It would only get worse and more frequent. I couldn’t afford to be delayed.

“Why must we detour?” I asked. “We’ll fly high and straight toward south.”

“The war zone can attract the Angels,” Ares said.

“They can be anywhere. That’s why we need to push harder toward south,” I said.

“Is there anything you haven’t told me about since you’re in such a hurry?” Ares asked.

“Don’t you want to meet your witch sooner?” I said.

“I know your plan,” Ares grated. “You can’t wait to get rid of me.”

This was ridiculous. He was the one who had been in desperate search of the witch.

“I hope this time you won’t lead me to another fake witch,” he added.

When had he become so unreasonable? I asked Ventus. Has he always been like that?

Congratulations, Witchling, said Ventus as he made a sharp turn and headed back toward the mountains. You’ve succeeded in messing him up. He can no longer think straight around you.

Then I felt the first spark of fire flickering in my veins. Ice had hit me last night, and fire was coming.

Ventus, I called, could you fly at maximum speed? I don’t feel good.

What do you mean you don’t feel good, Freyja? Ventus asked in concern.

Go as fast as you can, please, I said. And fly as low as possible. I’m burning.

When the fire burst out, I would have to jump so I wouldn’t hurt Ares and Ventus.

As the guardian shot out like lightning, a strong current hit me in the face, yet the wind couldn’t cool my body temperature.

“Why do you have to go so fast, Ventus?” Ares asked.

“Freyja is burning up,” Ventus said, pushing his speed limit.

Everything became hazy beneath us.

“Burning up? How?” Ares asked, pressing his hand against my face. “You’re warm. You have a fever.” He shouted, “Speed up, Ventus!” As if the guardian could go any faster.

Sparks of fire soared in me. I was sure it would erupt out of my mouth.

The camp was now right beneath us. The three guardians hunched at the foot of the snowy mountain, napping. Ares’ royal cousin was studying the runes on his broad angelblade. Boomer and Jericko were parrying, crossing blades.

Lucas looked up as we approached, and Einarr stood beside him, conversing with him.

From ten feet high, I leapt from Ventus’ back.

“Freyja!” Ares shouted. “What are you doing? You’re going to hurt yourself!”

He jumped right after me. While I fell on the apex of his men’s tent, he landed by it.

Fire burst out of my skin and lit the tent.

At least, I hadn’t hurt Ares and Ventus. I counted that as a lucky break.

I tumbled down from the tent, and my clothes were on fire. I screamed as I tried to tear them off, but they already burned to ashes. I watched myself turn into a human torch in horror and hurled toward the snowy ground at the base of the mountain.

“Freyja!” Ares chased after me and roared. “What’s happening? Put out the fire! Help her!”

Everyone dashed toward me, yelling something.

I threw a burning hand out to fend them off. “Stay . . . away!” I shouted. “Touch me and . . .  you’ll all burn.”

The fire in me grew hotter. The fucking Fey essence and the dark Angel power battled fiercely inside me.

I howled in agony and rolled in the snow, hoping the ice could put out the flame. 

A blast of icy wind slammed into me, sending me crashing against a row of rocks.

“Careful, Glacies!” Ares yelled at the ice guardian. “She isn’t built like you.”

“Only ice can help her now,” Glacies said.

It didn’t. It couldn’t.

The bright red and orange flame engulfed me.

Fire sizzled in my hair, yet it didn’t singe a single strand. It only hurt like the inferno from the seventh hell. The curse refused to show me mercy with a quick death.

Glacies kept aiding me with his icy wind, but to no avail. Neither could the snow cool my skin. Then someone poured ice water over my head while I was on all fours, crawling and writhing in anguish.

The fire hissed and leapt higher as if fueled.

“It didn’t work!” Ares shouted in a blind panic.

“Anything you do,” I cried, “will make it worse.”

I howled more, alone in the burning hell.

Ares’ face twisted in agony, as if he also lived in my hell.

For the first time, the Dragonians didn’t mock me but stared at me in incomprehensive horror.

Einarr got a blanket in his hand, but my fire leapt to it and burned it.

Lucas shifted, trying to get to me in his panther form.

“Don’t, Lucas!” I called. “I’ll burn … you. It will burn … you.”

The large, black panther still tried to get near me, but the flame crashed into him and lit a patch of his beautiful shinning fur. The panther staggered back, bellowing in pain. Glacies turned his ice on the shifter and snuffed out the fire.

At least the guardian’s ice could put out the fire on the others.

“Sorry, Luca—” I choked, throwing my hands to my throat as the flame seared through my airway.

Ares lunged at me, but the Dragonian warriors caught him and held him back. He struggled free. “Freyja, tell me what to do,” he called. “I’ll do anything!”

“Maybe it’s the venom from the angelblade,” Einarr said. 

“It’s my … curse.”

“What curse?”

“Ice in my … veins; fire … in my blood,” I gasped. “It’s supposed to hit me … at a full force … after I reach … my twenty-second birthday. It came a week earlier.” I crawled, sinking my fingernails into the dirt and scratching the rocks as fire burned away the snow, as fire roasted my inner organs.

Fire even burned away the blood on my fingers.

Something registered in Ares’ eyes. He’d seen me breathing frost. Last night it was ice, and today flame.

“We must get her to the druid!” Ares ordered.

“We can’t move her,” Ventus said. “We can’t touch her.”

“What about Ignis?” Ares asked. “He’s fire. Fire won’t burn fire.”

“My fire … will burn him,” I said through my gritted teeth.

I couldn’t hold any longer.

“Go with Einarr to fetch Merlin,” Ares barked at Ventus.

“Merlin knows my curse,” I sobbed. “Only the Fey Empress can cure me.”

That posed a dilemma. They couldn’t move this human torch. Even if they reached the Twilight Realm and had the slim luck to convince Empress Rose to come for me, I’d be a pile of ashes when she got here.

Staring into Ares’ devastated eyes, I knew he had thought of the same thing.

“Freyja,” he said, tears streaming down his face. “There must be a way to put out the damn fire.”

It was boiling every inch of my lethal skin.

“End me,” I pleaded. “I have no more than a year left anyway. End me now!”

If I lived from this moment on, I’d be living in pure hell, afraid of the return of the curse of fire and ice, afraid of being hunted and caught by the Angels, and afraid of bringing death to Ares, Lucas, the guardians, and even the Dragonians.

And if my grandfather got his hands on me, he would shatter my soul to pieces. He would devour and digest every shredded essence of mine. I would feel the agony worse than I was experiencing now. That was his process of draining my power.

If the Dark Lord returned to his power, the universe would sink into a new dark age.

Taking me out would be doing a great service to all living things.

“If you don’t have it in you to do it,” I snarled, “toss me an angelblade.”

I might not have enough strength to stab the dagger all the way into my heart. I’d opt to slash my throat when I received his gift.

I preferred Ares or his men do it for me, but since they had no guts to carry on . . .

“No,” Ares said. “I can’t. We’ll find a way, Freyja. You must live. Please. Just give me a little more time. I’m thinking hard. We’ll find a way, Freyja! You must keep being brave.”

Brave, my butt!

I bellowed at a new wave of agony and dragged myself toward Caen and an angelblade strapped at his thigh. He wanted me gone, so I wouldn’t stand between his prince and the witch queen. He would be more than happy to give me the dagger and let me end myself.

I kept crawling on all fours toward Caen, every inch an effort in hell. Flames lit me, whooshing in the wind. A few more steps and I would reach him.

But that motherfucker jumped back from me.

Though he wanted to, Caen wouldn’t give me the dagger. For he knew if he did, Ares would knife him and his entire household.

“Give me the fucking blade!” I howled.

“Freyja, hang in there, please,” Ares begged, his eyes bloodshot. I wondered if he ever begged anyone else in his life. “There’s a way to save you. There must be a way.”

I turned to Ares. “Will you let me suffer like this? End me. You can find your witch another way . . . the Oracle will tell you.”

Pain. Burning. Endless agony. I cursed the day I was born.

I cursed the Angel King, my father, to the ultimate eleventh hell!

“To hell with the witch,” Ares called. “I want you alive, not for her! I can’t bear—” With a roar, he threw away the two Dragonians who held him in place and lunged at me again, but Caen got him just in time to trip him. They both fell to the ground and wrestled. The rest of the Dragonians jumped on him to pin him down.

“She’s not your witch!” his cousin yelled.

Roaring in fury, Ares threw them off him with explosive strength and came for me.

“Stay away!” I edged back from him, but Ares had flung himself on top of me, using his body to extinguish the fire.

The flame spread to him and he cried in pain. 

I tried to shake him off to preserve him, but I could barely move.

“Don’t do this, Ares,” I begged. “Leave me.”

“Never leave you,” he said and pulled me into his arms.

While I was burning in the living hell, my body still craved his touch.

“I can’t stand seeing you burn,” he said, clenching his teeth and suffering the scorching fire. “Let me burn with you.” And he slanted his mouth over mine.

The fire swallowed us both.