Whatever stirred didn't feel like power. It felt like something tearing loose from the deepest part of her and surging violently to the surface. Heat seared through her veins, while an opposite cold sank into her bones. The contrast is unbearable. It stole the breath from her lungs and dragged a broken cry from her throat, the sound echoing across the ruined, half-empty fair.
Lucrezia gasped, he fingers digging into the frozen ground as the sensation spread around her body like a toxin.
No, worse than a toxin. This was… alive—scorching her raw.
She could hear the distant crash of splintered wood and the shrill, inhuman cries of the creatures, feel the power beneath the earth, and see the creatures looming nearer, their hollow eyes fixed on her like those of starving wolves closing in on wounded prey.
Panic clawed at her chest. She tried to hold it back. Gods, she tried, but it was too impossible!
