Every time he reached for that power, the brand burned and dragged him back down. It felt as if something had hooked into his bones and was pulling him toward the voice he had heard before.
Come home.
Complete the sacrifice.
Osiris laughed through gritted teeth, and the laugh sounded more like a snarl. "Come take me then."
He threw fire across the snow.
The flames swallowed the first row of attackers, and the smell of burnt fur rose in the air. Another enemy came from the side, and Osiris kicked him down before pressing a burning hand to his chest. He did not even wait for the scream to finish before turning to the next one.
But even he could hear the cries from the palace whenever the wind shifted.
A baby had cried once.
Then the sound had faded under battle.
Isabella was still inside.
Still giving birth.
Still not safe.
That thought made his fire burn brighter. It also made the brand on his back burn hotter. He almost fell to one knee, then forced himself up again.
