“Stop asking questions, Cross. Fight, damn it. Attack.” “I am fighting,” I screamed, the sound tearing from my throat. “I’m trying.” “Not hard enough.” He bent, getting into my face. His eyes shifted to swirling silver, and the rest of the realm melted away. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. Quentins are usually better at running away than fighting.” “I’m not running away.” “Then stop backing away. You want to be queen of Turah? Then you must not be afraid.” “I don’t want to be queen of Turah.”
