Chapter 33 · The Burned-In Vow

The acrid tang of ozone and burned stone clung to Nora Vey’s throat when she blinked awake, every nerve in her body thrumming like an overcharged circuit board.

Her fingertips burned so badly she could barely curl them, the raw, blistered skin crisscrossed with faint, glowing gold lines—her newly awakened forbidden talent, the same one that had fried Kaelen’s interference array from halfway across the arena.

She was propped against a jagged chunk of obsidian ruin, her grease-stained work shirt torn at the elbow, her tool belt half-slid off her hip, and the first thing she registered beyond the pain was the low, thrumming hum of thunder magic wrapped around the collapsed west stands.

Kane Rhoan stood ten feet away, his broad back to her, one hand outstretched toward the stands where hundreds of trapped spectators huddled, whimpering. Faint, warm gold lightning webbed between his fingers, holding up tons of crumbling concrete and twisted rebar like it was nothing more than lace.