Shadow & Storms (The Legends of Thezmarr, #4)

by Helen Scheuerer

For he knew in his bones that she would emerge victorious, Naarvian steel in hand, vows of vengeance on her tongue. And that she would come for him.

The thought was bittersweet, for she’d won the Great Rite and achieved what she’d always wanted, only to have lost something more precious when she emerged.

For him, the world would wait. And when he was safe at her side, they could watch the whole fucking thing go up in flames to be reborn anew.

‘Then the world will know that if they hurt him, I’ll burn them all to the ground.’

As blood dripped from Wilder’s swords, that brilliant white light flared again. At last, he tasted the storm on his lips, and looked up.

She broke away, panting. ‘I love you,’ she gasped, refusing to tear her eyes away from him. ‘I love you so much I can hardly breathe. I’ve wanted to say it for so long —’ Wilder gave a hoarse, broken laugh. ‘Tell me again later. Tell me when we’re safe.’ Thea kissed him again, desperate to show him that tempest he’d brought to life within her from the moment they’d met. ‘I’ll tell you every day until my last,’ she murmured.

‘You’re dead anyway,’ she promised. ‘But touch him again, I dare you.’

‘Bring it down,’ he said at last. ‘Bring the whole fucking thing down.’ He didn’t need to ask her twice.

‘I am the storm,’ she told herself. She let her lightning rage, right alongside her heart, and she split the gods-damned tower in two.

‘You have me,’ she murmured against his lips. ‘All of me. Mind, body and heart.’

‘No man could have you and not be consumed,’ he murmured.

Don’t let the world – don’t let anyone convince you that you’re not enough. Only you define your story. You and you alone. When they tell you what you’re not, when they tell you what you can’t do, remember: you are the storm, Elwren. You split the skies and flood the plains. You make the ground tremble beneath their boots. No one can fucking stop you.’

Thea had a surreal moment of realisation: war makes for unlikely allies.

‘We are all daughters of darkness, Thea. We were born into a world of it, a place that would dictate the way in which we defend ourselves, the way we live our lives. No more. That world is no longer. And the next one will be what we make it.’

He turned back to Thea and cupped her jaw, forcing her eyes to meet his. ‘You can do this. You were forged with blood and steel, with lightning and thunder… You were made for this war, made to end it, and you will, for all of us. When I first saw you spying on the Warsword meeting atop the cliffs, I sensed it in you even then.’ Tears lined Thea’s eyes. ‘What?’ ‘Greatness,’ he told her.