The silver fire wouldn't stop.
It danced around me like a living thing, beautiful and terrible, responding to emotions I could barely feel anymore. Every time I tried to pull it back, it slipped through my mental grasp like quicksilver.
"Luna, look at me." Dante's voice was steady, calm, but I could see the fear in his eyes as he approached the edge of my power's reach. "Just focus on my voice."
"I can't." The words came out strangled. "It's too much. It wants to burn everything."
And it did. I could feel the fire's hunger, its desire to cleanse and purify until nothing remained but ash and starlight. Part of me—a part that was growing stronger—wanted to let it.
"The mansion's going to collapse," Marcus said urgently from somewhere behind Dante. "The foundation stones are cracking."
