“Draining?”
Eyes so dark green they look black are locked on my face, caressing over my own gaze. “Yes,” he says quietly. “You need to drop the magic before you hurt yourself.”
My back bristles. “My gold won’t hurt me.”
“It already is.” He tips his head, and I look down, though I don’t see anything amiss.
“Your aura is fading,” he tells me. “You can’t see it, but I can. I need you to breathe and let go of your power.”
Panic surges up in me. If I let go of my power, I’ll be weak again. Helpless.
Fury sparks in my eyes, and the gold flexes behind me like fingers clenching into a fist. “No.”
“You’re alright now. You don’t need it,” he vows, and despite the anxiety running through me, his voice is deep and soothing, calling to another part of me, a part buried beneath the anger.
But my beast fights against it. She doesn’t want to let go, though every second that I hold the gold makes my strength wane, my limbs heavy and numbed.
“I want everyone to hurt like I hurt,” I say through gritted teeth.
“You punished the one who mattered.”
Something wars inside of me. A weight is dragging me down as my magic demands more. I let some of the gold behind me lope down and seep through the archway. I let more break the windows, yank on the pillars. I let it climb the walls of Ranhold, following the screams and running footsteps, searching to swallow…
More, it whispers. More.
But he comes forward in another bold step, interrupting my concentration, distracting my magic’s reach. He stands right in front of me, his aura curling around me as he takes up my sight, my hearing, my smell. I can’t help but breathe him in, the metallic storm clearing from my nostrils, the scent of wood and soil and bitter chocolate filling me instead.
He touches my cheek, lets his rough hand skate over my skin. “Come back to me, Goldfinch.”
I shudder, and his touch yanks at my awareness, splitting away from the anger driving me. My eyes widen, vision clearing from the haze. “Slade…？”
He nods. “That’s right, baby. Let the magic go.”
I swallow hard, suddenly feeling the weight of the power, how it’s crushing me.
My legs start to give out, but Slade catches me before I fall, though his hands land on my back, making me cry out in pain and yank away from him.
“Oh goddess…” I stagger, but it’s not from the raw ache of my ribbons, it’s the pressure of the power bearing down on me. “I can’t!” My voice cracks out, lands in a heap as my eyes fill with panicked tears. “I don’t know how to let go!”
A curse flies from Slade’s mouth for a moment before he grabs my arms to hold me. “Breathe, Auren,” he commands.
My eyes are wild, bouncing around the ballroom, at the gold that suddenly feels like it’s closing in on me. “I can’t control it, I can’t—”
“You can,” he growls in my face, the coils of his own power twisting like roots along his jaw. “Try, Auren. It’s your power, it answers to you.”
But he’s wrong. This isn’t my power at all. This is something born from inside of me, from the raging anger I held in too long.
My entire body shakes from the crushing weight of it, and all around me, the gold starts to boil and hiss, and it takes everything in me to hold it back. Even still, it slinks forward, creeping, pushing the boundaries. My heart leaps into my throat when I see it inching around Slade and trying to latch onto his feet. I shoot my hand forward to direct it away, a terrified gasp flooding from my surging chest.
I barely have the might to send it back, but more is advancing, a ripple going through the floor, edging nearer. I have no idea where everyone else is, but terror grips my chest. What if I killed the Wrath, or Digby, or innocents? And yet, that’s what is going to happen, because my control is fading fast.
“It’s going to hurt you!” I cry, hands now scrabbling to push him away. “Go, Slade, I can’t…I can’t hold it back much longer, and I don’t know how to stop it!”
Hands land on my cheeks, cupping my face, and my eyes spring open, though I hadn’t realized I’d even closed them.
“Look at me.”
Frightened eyes lock onto him. “You have to leave.”
But the stubborn male shakes his head. “I already told you. If you think I’m leaving without you, you’re out of your damned mind.”
The echo of his previous words brings a sob up my throat as exhausted, terrified tears track down my face.