She sneered. “You don’t get to question me,” she snarled, and her eyes looked molten for a moment. “I’ve waited centuries for this eclipse, and I won’t risk the Lunar Lord going into hiding to spare himself. He will die, once and for all. And he won’t even fight it, not with his fated mate.” Zyanya bared her teeth. “I will take my ancestors’ power back. The Handmaiden witches stole it from us, and nothing could be more just than the last Handmaiden handing it back. Your lifetime is but a blink, girl. Do not flatter yourself thinking I have spent time agonizing over each event. It’s simple—one must shape a tool for a job if they expect the job to be done well, and indeed, you are no more than that. A tool. My tool.”
My cold fear finally gave way to a rage I hadn’t known myself capable of.
