And… The chains somehow held. Though the word somehow felt pathetic as Aurora cleared the hair from her eyes. The doubt she had felt for a moment washed off and felt foolish. Because, she had already planned this weeks ago, hadn’t she? Samantha’s hesitation here had been part of her calculation. The next few moments already played out in her head. So yes, of course moments ago Samantha would hesitate.

  Aurora straightened somewhat awkwardly. Electricity buzzed around her face as she felt the heat from the magical chains. She looked up defiantly at Samantha’s face, meeting her gaze.

  The goddess was… perplexed.

  Good.

  Now it was time for the next part.

  She lifted her arm slowly, forcing Samantha’s eyes to follow. She turned her wrist…

  Causing a scream.

  “Nothing there!” Aurora said, voice wound but joyful, mimicking Samantha’s cadence. “Just a raw, red gash. See?”

  For half a heartbeat, even the street seemed to go still.

  As a result, Samantha stared. And stared. And stared. Before finally lunging, hands clawing for Aurora’s wrist, nails scraping over the developing scar as if she could tear the truth out of flesh.

  “No,” she choked. “No—where is it? WHERE IS IT?!”

  Aurora hissed at the pain but refused to pull away.

  “Well… If it were in me,” Aurora said, slightly hoarse, jaw clenched from the pain, “you wouldn’t be yelling!”

  Samantha’s breath hitched.

  “You—” Her voice cracked. “What…”

  Aurora shrugged, forcing herself to look as unworried as she could, pain still flaring. “I took it out, obviously.”

  Something in Samantha’s expression fractured.

  “You removed it?” she whispered. “Why? How? Why would you… You… took it out?”

  “Obviously,” Aurora said flatly, rubbing the other side of her wrist. “How could I not? Knowing people like you don’t exactly ask nicely.”

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  And Samantha staggered back a step, before spinning, wild-eyed, scanning the street, the rooftops, the smoke-choked intersections. Understanding dawned in her eyes.

  “Where is that fire wielding man?” she screamed at her men. They looked at each other, baffled. Karl went very very still.

  The chains dropped and Aurora groaned, rubbing her body.

  Chains of Samantha’s fire lashed outward, uncontrolled, shattering stone. Water surged without direction.

  “Where is he?” Samantha shrieked again. “Where is Julius?!”

  No one answered.

  Soldiers stared at one another longer. Smoke drifted. Fire hissed uselessly against soaked ground.

  Behind them—somewhere in the city—Julius was already gone.

  Karl’s breath caught at the edge of the street, water trembling at his feet, swaying.

  “What do you mean?!” He roared. “So…If she dies,” he said, voice turning hoarse, pointing at Aurora, “what happens to it? What happens to Milo, to him?”

  Aurora’s gaze flicked to him.

  And for the first time, there was no calculation in it as she saw the child he had once been. Her eyes only reflected tired, tired truth.

  “Then it’s destroyed,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I already talked to Julius, of course. And you and I both know, he won’t hesitate in destroying it.”

  Samantha went still too. “No,” she whispered. Horror crept into her voice. “You wouldn’t. My prize. Milo. My insurance…”

  And Aurora’s laugh came out thin and final, stuttering the pretty woman’s magic.

  Fire faltered.

  Light sagged.

  Samantha hesitated.

  Aurora’s expression softened, just a fraction, as she saw the woman so desperate to bring the villain back. She loved him, perhaps. But love shouldn’t equate to obsessive madness.

  “I know,” she said. “How much you want him back.” She straightened out. “And that’s how I also know that you can’t afford to kill me.”

  Karl stared between them, at Aurora—bloodied, exhausted, still standing. And at Samantha, who was radiant and suddenly unmoored. As he realized that Milo was dead, and staying that way, something inside Karl tore.

  He had wanted revenge.

  He had wanted repentance.

  But not—

  This.

  “You promised,” Karl whispered, pointing, voice breaking, looking at Samantha. “You said he’d answer for what he did!”

  “Karl, my dear, he will!” she exclaimed. “I.. I’ll get it back.” Her voice cracked, and she bound Aurora in the light chains.

  Aurora leaned forward, the chains hissing as they burned her skin. “That doesn’t change the facts. You kill me,” she said softly, “and there’s nothing left for you to win.”

  She watched their faces as the words landed.

  Samantha froze, hands shaking too badly to hold the magic steady.

  The chains loosened.

  Aurora hadn’t broken them, but because Samantha couldn’t keep her grip.

  Aurora exhaled long and slow.

  She was winning.

  Not because she was stronger, but because she had made herself too expensive to destroy.

  And the knowledge burned.

  Samantha slumped to the ground, light dissipating into nothingness. Karl looked around for Julius, distracted.

  Aurora looked at the sky.

  Strategy, being the underdog. This was how she used to win wars.

  And she had sworn—once—that she would never do it again.

  But she found herself in this position once again.

  Her gaze sharpened as she mapped the route to the button and levers. The next few moments would be her only chance. While her enemy was mourning over Aurora’s ex lover. To end it.

  In less than a minute, Samantha would be dead.