C468 LIFE UNDER THE FALLING THRONE

“Drop your hand, Elara. If his heart stops, the child’s spark goes with it. You aren't just killing a monster; you are burying your own blood.” The Second Prince spat the words through a mask of crimson, his back pinned against the fountain’s crumbling basin.

Elara stood over him, her palm a sun of blue heat. The light was so bright it turned the snow into steam before it could touch the earth