Panic is a luxury I can’t afford. Fear is the fire that keeps me going.
The shadow tendrils lunged at me, not just dark, but devouring the light and air around them. They aimed straight for my throat. This could be the end.
No way.
My instincts roared over my fear. My link to the storm, wild and barely tamed, flared to life. Forget skill, forget control. I needed raw, brutal power, right this second.
I didn’t cast a spell; I ripped it. I dragged the electric charge from the overloaded wires, the damp air, and the chaotic energy of the attack itself. I funneled it into a single, blazing point between me and the deadly shadow.
"Burn," I growled, thrusting the energy forward.
A thunderous crack tore through the air. Lightning, raw and blue-white, exploded in my office. It wasn’t a clean strike but a wild burst of voltage. It smashed into the shadow figure like a hammer.
The hit forced a harsh hiss from the void. The shadows flickered hard, like a broken image. For a moment, the blinding light pierced the darkness. Underneath, I saw pale skin covered in twisted, ancient tattoos. Black ink stood out, forming creepy, ritual patterns.
