KATHERINE POV
It exploded from me like the birth of a star—white-hot, merciless, ancient. The fire didn’t just leave my hands. It tore through the air in a spiral of rage and flame, roaring toward the possessed witch like it had a vendetta of its own.
She screamed—no, it screamed, because whatever creature wore Marguerite’s skin now was not human, not witch, not anything that should have been allowed to exist. The fire hit her square in the chest, lifting her off her feet and slamming her against the marble wall so hard cracks spiderwebbed out like broken ice.
The scent of scorched silk and demonic rot filled the air. For a moment, I thought that was it.
But then the thing laughed.
It crawled out of the crater, body cracked and blistered, skin steaming, lips curling into something bet
