The cold steel on Kaelen's neck was a final, undeniable fact. It was over.
But as the word "yield" left his lips, something inside him refused to break. The shame of being beaten, the fury at his sister's betrayal, the helplessness he felt watching Seraphina almost die it all twisted together into a raw, new kind of power.
A deep, guttural roar ripped from his throat.
It was not a sound of surrender. It was a sound of defiance.
A blinding golden light exploded from his body. The sheer force of it sent Selvara stumbling backward, her sword knocked away from his neck. Isolde was thrown back several feet, shielding her eyes from the sudden, intense glare.
Kaelen stood in the center of the clearing, no longer just a boy in a uniform. He was a pillar of pure, golden energy. His injuries seemed to fade, his exhaustion burned away by the fire of his own will. His eyes were no longer blue; they were solid gold, burning with a light that was not entirely sane.
