Page 27 of Claiming Chaos
“There is a way.” He pressed his palms to the ring of magic containing him. “Remember when I was inside you. The fire ignited on your arms as we fought the fae.”
“That was you.” I wiggled some more, making my dire situation worse.
“No, Ash. That was your fire. I accessed it, but it belonged to you.”
Yeah, right. “I can’t do that. Believe me, it was all you.”
“So you’re going to let Chrys destroy your coven? She’ll murder your sisters and turn your town dark, and you’re going to lie there and take it like an impotent runt?” He lit his hands on fire and bashed them against the circle. The magic shimmered but didn’t wane.
Anger sparked in my chest, battling my fear for control. “I’m not an impotent runt.”
“No?” His talons extended, and he jabbed them against the magic, making it pulse. “Are you sure? Because that’s exactly how you’re acting. Like a useless, spoiled runt.”
My teeth clenched tightly until a sharp pain shot through my jaw. Where did he get off calling me a runt when he was trapped in a containment circle? A circle he voluntarily walked into, even though I told him she’d kill me anyway.
Fury billowed in my chest, making my blood boil and my fire magic rise to the surface.
Chaos’s hands returned to normal, and he held them up in surrender. “Go ahead then. Let Chrys win. Let her murder your coven for you. You’d have done it yourself eventually.”
My rage surged, coursing through my veins. “I would never hurt my family.”
“How many people have already died in your wake?” He crossed his arms. “How many more will?”
“I haven’t killed anyone!” I strained. Every muscle in my body tensed. Fire churned in my gut and rolled down my arms, gathering in my hands and turning them hotter than a crematorium. Hotter than they’d ever been before.
Flames exploded from my palms, sending dirt flying through the air.
Magical fire rushed up my arms, circling my chest and turning Chrys’s roots to soot. I screamed and slammed my flaming arms onto my legs, incinerating the rest of my organic chains before scrambling out of my grave. Thank the goddess I wore fireproof clothes.
My body still ablaze, I marched toward the circle, my nostrils flaring as I clenched my hands into fists. “Don’t you ever call me a runt again. I’m an effing Holland witch.”
Chaos smiled, nodding his head like a proud papa. “The shadow magic is retreating. I suggest you douse your flames before someone sees you.”
“I…” My standard answer of I can’t nearly crossed my lips, but I looked at the fire dancing on my arms and sucked in a trembling breath. I’d done it. I’d burned my way out of Chrys’s death trap and lit half my body ablaze. Even Ember couldn’t do that.
“Take a deep breath.” Chaos demonstrated as if I didn’t know how to breathe.
I did as he said, inhaling as deeply as I could and letting it out slowly. When nothing happened, I did it again.
“Focus on the core of your being, where your magic resides. Do you feel the source of the flames?”
I concentrated and searched, finding the cradle of my magic directly below my breastbone. Resting my hand on the spot, I took another breath.
“Call it back inside. Don’t try to force it. Just allow it to return home.”
Relaxing my body, I closed my eyes and centered myself, imagining the source opening and allowing the fire to return.
“You’re straining. Relax your jaw.”
I parted my teeth and took another deep, cleansing breath. The fire rolled back inside me, gathering in my chest and calming to embers. Holy crap.
A laugh blurted from my throat. “That was insane.”
“That was your magic.”
I shook my finger at my demon. “I’ve got a good mind to leave you in the circle, mister. What you said was cruel.”
He shrugged. “I said what I had to say to force you into acting.”