Emily Rosewood’s Point of View.
Raven Hollow, eight weeks and four days after the gate closed
The arena cracked open like brittle stone under a titan’s hammer.
A sound like the world tearing in half ripped through the chamber. Fire—wrong fire, cold and black-veined—surged through the fractures. Pillars older than any living memory toppled, sending shockwaves that buckled the council seats above. Dust and screams rained down together.
I staggered back, throwing an arm up against the heat that wasn’t heat at all, but something colder, something that wanted to crawl inside my bones and freeze the Flame I now carried.
The Betrayer stood untouched on the far side of the ruin, red cloak untouched by dust or flame, expression mild, almost amused. As if he had walked into a room full of old f
