The clouds fluff together and the warm breeze turning from spring to summer pulls back the scarlet strands of my hair and kisses at my neck. The smell of fresh flowers carries in that breeze and for a moment, I squeeze my eyes shut and savor in the peace. No arguing, no screaming, no training. At least for today, I don't have to worry about anything but what I'm glimpsing in front of me, the beauty that is the cobblestone against rows and rows of flowerbeds and hedges.

The sun reflects off the large windows on the surface of the castle walls and sheens the stables and horses grazing in the pasture. I'm one of the few people out here, moving slowly through the gardens. Everyone else is preparing for a full dinner.

After a long day of tending to her flowerbeds, Celestine is sleeping. Since spring is quickly changing to humid days of summer, each witch of garden is busier than usual. They're switching out the pastel shades of spring for the harsh tones of the season. I knocked on her door and asked if she wanted to take a stroll, to no avail. With a groan, she brushed me off and said another day is best. No matter, she has to regain her energy for summer testing tomorrow.

I turn a corner, around a hedge, and head towards the large stables. I haven't admired the horses in weeks and I've heard that there's a new colt out in the pastures. Voices travel from inside the large building stretching into the sky; not gentle voices in the way two lovers sharing a secret moment but a harsh voice cutting through the smooth fabric of the gardens. I recognize the voice, Darius, and then the whimpering of another.

Because of past events, I slow my steps and make myself near silent as I approach the large wooden doors to the stone stables. I expect to see a woman with him but a stable boy is sitting on one of the straw bales—hunched over and defeated.

Darius's harsh voice cuts through the air as he scolds the boy for improperly training his stallion and creating something of mundane obedience out of the beast. The stable boy lowers his head and nods when he's scolded, palms drifting over his thighs. Nerves. I shake my head but I can't do anything. If I involve myself in this, Darius will bite me later.

Castle workers are punished every day and if I wanted to spend my time catering to their every need, I wouldn't have time for anything else.

"Look at me," Darius growls to the young, red-haired boy. When the boy doesn't respond, he orders again. I stop outside the looming walls of the stable next to the bins holding grain and listen. "You will listen to me carefully. With all your might—slap your cheek."

Skin against skin sounds a fraction of a second later and I wince. Darius is controlling the boy. My hands clench into fists and the power at my fingertips begs to defend and release against the evil in the stables but I force it back down my throat like a bitter pill. That raging inferno, although not fire, can take out this entire courtyard and the stables.

Darius chuckles underneath his breath. "Great, break your nose." No. He's finding amusement in the boy hurting himself. I whirl into the stables just as the boy's fist connects with his nose until bone cracks and his knuckles are bleeding.

"Darius!" I shout. He jumps, and the boy is immediately ripped from the trance the witch put him under. The stable boy groans and grips at his nose with bloodied knuckles to match the blood dripping down from his chin.

"This is a private matter, Roux. Leave." Darius jerks his chin towards the doors and I cross my arms over my chest. My feet are planted on the ground.

I've seen children bullied in Arego for nothing more than the painful realization of being smaller than the average child their age. Living every day, slammed against the ground and used as personal punching bags for the larger bullies is a sad way to move through life. Those children learned the wrong ways of the village, remembered the darkest alleys if they wanted to walk through the village without being caught, and what powers those bullies feared the most.

Usually mine. The weaker children clung to me until their mothers arrived and became their second personal protector. But those bullies never got past me because they knew that if I wanted to, my power had the ability to send them into the sky and never allow them back down. Fear was enough to teach them that if they touched the weaker kids again—their punishment would not be kind.

Black eyes and bruised knuckles were the focal points of the children and the same is happening here, with a stable boy of lower status.

"I will not leave. You're beating him and I won't allow it. You leave and I'll call this boy a healer," I say.

Darius sneers. "That's more trouble than what it's worth. Besides, this is the punishment he has to live with for ruining my horse. Leave." The way he orders me reminds me of the way Renit speaks. They're the same, those cousins, and nothing drives my annoyance further than that. The cruel reminder of what I'm here to do.

I let the ground rumble for only a second. It's enough to receive Darius's attention, and he slowly stands, looking from me to the courtyard beyond.

"Leave him or you will face my power," I threaten. The stable boy grips onto his nose, looking between the two of us, and I jerk my chin towards the back of the stables. Darius doesn't fail to leave the boy little to no room to get up. Their shoulders collide and with the way Darius is built, the boy is the one stumbling to the side and slamming against one of the wooden posts. A bruise is nothing compared to the broken nose he has now. Hallie will clean that up if I plead her to. She's never cared much for the servants and has left the lower healers to tend to them.

Darius saunters over to me. "Your power is very dangerous. I suggest using it wisely," he whispers. I sniff his wretched cologne, a strong scent no woman could find appealing. My eyes water.

"Using it against you is wise." I click my tongue. "You've hurt one too many people...and to think I wanted to apologize to you for what happened in the kitchens."

"That's the thing; my blood doesn't stoop so low. We don't apologize."

Of course, you don't; Renit hasn't come close so why should you?

Darius smirks at the unspoken truth in my mind before stepping past me and out into the courtyard. My hands are still clenched into fists and as I turn to face him, the fury flushes out of me like a bleeding knife. I need to get this under control. He can't hurt anyone ever again. Too many women, too many stable boys—not enough power to take down someone of the royal family.

But I am engaged to a prince and I can do something. I just need a little ignition...

"Walking away from a fight?" I shout after him. He stops, shoulders tensing, and turns.

The grin cutting into his sharp cheekbones is unsettling. "Don't pick a fight you can't win. From what I've heard, Renit has told you the same." He points at the bandages on my wrists like they're nothing more than gold bracelets. Worse has happened to others at Darius's hand.

"How about we settle this? Right now?" I can almost taste the blood on my tongue as he strides back over to me, hands in his pockets.

"I think that's a mistake," he purrs in that familiar way. His cold, invisible hand clenches around my heart for a breath, a width away, and my entire body shudders.

That's all I need. I force the stone underneath me to blast into him, knocking him back a good number. His back scrapes against the ground and I look down, noting the chunk taken from the surface. Pebbles and soft dirt leak down into the dirt hidden for centuries underneath that stone. It looks and feels the same as every other ancient part of this castle.

My power breathes a sigh of relief at the sudden release. My fingers tingle with excitement and fresh air rolls into my lungs. The power of ground whispers its stories of ancient time past but I don't hear their words.

Darius tips his head back and groans. His fists clench and unclench, testing his strength. He'll have more than that, Darius won't walk away from this without one blow. One I'm prepared for.

With a quick flick of his wrist, a knife hurtles in my direction and I dive out of the way. I move only enough, not enough, for the knife to slide past my arm and cut through my tunic.

Red blood dribbles from my forearm and I wince. One small slice is enough for my power to buckle underneath the fear. No, the ground magic is itching for a fight and I will take down this entire courtyard if I have to. Enough is enough. For Celestine and for the stable boy, I will show Darius what it's like to be truly helpless.

The ground quakes underneath him and he scrambles, twisting to the side as the stone shoots up from where he was into a shower of dirt and debris. None of it hits me as all the substance of my power crashes down and he shields himself. As he shields, a weak moment, I send another blast after him.

Darius is quick. He dodges that attack too and I send another to his right side—only to have him slide left and avoid it. With a chuckle and a sideways grin to throw me off, I return the sentiment. All right, let's play.

I stretch my arms out at my sides and the ground shakes. But my boots are solid. Two chunks the side of towers looming over us break from their strong hold in the ground, cracking and grumbling as stone falls back in small chunks. Darius's eyes grow wide. I send one at his head and he drops—stomach first—onto the stone. A knife singes towards me a second later and I throw up a wall. Through my power, I sense the titanium blade pierce against the other side, weakening the shield.

If he throws another, my entire power could give in. The power of ground sings to me, a sweet, joyous tune of death and redemption. Ancient magic wants to see Darius suffer, the spirits of long-used power want to see me win.

I don't give Darius the chance to throw another knife as I twist to the side, out from behind the shield, and throw the second chunk of stone at him. He dodges most of it but the corner catches his back after soaring through the air at an unstoppable speed. The power he contains is nothing against mine. Witches have never fought fair, we're struggled to win and we should cherish any victory. This one will be no different, even against a man who never stood a chance.

To control someone is to do it from a close distance and with my power separating us like a firm wall, there isn't a chance of him coming near me. I let myself unleash; I let the power take me with it until my brain is numb and my tongue is so thick I can barely speak. But it's the relief I need. I've never felt such freedom in my life, not in Arego and definitely not here.

We play a game of cat and mouse; I throw a blast and he dodges, only to come back with a knife or a dagger somewhere on his body. My power continues to sing, it's grateful to have this experience. Kill him, it chants. Power wants death.

"What will your prince have to say about this?" Darius pants. "This is another mess for him to wipe up, all because you can't control your temper."

"Shut it," I snap. Another blast unfurls from the ground below and he rolls out of the way and jumps over a hedge. "I'm not concerning myself with the prince." Another knife comes at me and this time, I knock it to the side and let the blade clatter onto what is left of the stone. I've never felt such control. The world around me is clear.

Darius chuckles. "How brave of you, to stand against him. To stand against the king you hate." He stands behind the hedge, no doubt holding more knives in his hands. But for a moment, we stop.

The destruction taking place around us is something I'll no doubt pay for later. And Darius will have no part in it because he's not the witch with the power to cause absolute annihilation. I step over the crumbled pieces of stone to close the distance between us and Darius watches with predatory intent. "If you weren't so foolish then you would stand with me," I retort.

"Stand against the prince? Not a chance, I owe my life to this family, as do you. Without them, you'd be dead in a village—having your eyes pecked out by hungry birds. Give respect where it is due, young witch, otherwise you will find yourself short of freedom." His brows lower and my power screams at me.

A knife releases from his hand a second later but I'm already prepared and dodging out of the way. The hedge planter in front of us is taken out with the chunk I send after him, forcing my palm in that direction. Darius is quicker than I anticipated and the stone slams into another hedge planter in the next row over, completely obliterating it.

I'm too busy trying to destroy him that I don't notice the storm booming overhead or the destroyed courtyard around me. Anyone near has cleared and with the thunder roaring like a sacred dragon overhead, the wind ripping at my body, I finally stop to look up.

Clouds as dark as an abyss loom over us, twisting into a storm. Renit. He's here. Darius takes that distraction as his chance to flee and as he does, I send another solid foundation of rock after him. It hits him directly in the back and knocks him into the ground. With rock and dirt swirling around my fists, I stomp over the uneven ground—carving my own path.

Within a few feet of him, lightning discharges from those hellish clouds and I'm thrown back into one of my own craters. The soft dirt greets me and I snarl, standing on shaken knees as my power drains to a numbing roar. There's hardly anything taken from it. I am powerful. I am death. And I will kill him.

I've never had the longing to kill anyone, not until I came here. The castle has changed me and this kingdom, with all the wrongs and faults, has become the reason for my bleeding aggression.

Standing across the courtyard, in a tunic of solid black, is Renit. He watches as with shaken arms; I lift myself back out of that crater and onto the somewhat solid surface of a small chunk of stone. Fine, if he wants to play too then he's more than welcome.

With my attention on Darius, struggling underneath the stone weight holding him down, I gather my strength. Like forming snow into a ball, I thread my power together until a chunk of the courtyard is in my hand. In a snakelike throw, a whip, I send that ball at Renit. He doesn't expect it and shields with his lightning shield but my power is enough to blast him back.

He stumbles, landing on the ground. I turn back to Darius, ready to deliver the killing blow when that storm thickens. The thunder is deafening and the lightning swirling inside those clouds generates enough sparks to glisten off the castle walls like veins. What is everyone thinking from the inside of this castle? Is the king giving orders to kill me?

Renit forces more lightning down, this time directly at me. Throwing an arm over my head, I create an impenetrable shield. His lightning pushes against it but his power is no match. The freedom inside my soul breaks free as with my other hand, I send another explosion of power directly at his chest.

My betrothed flies back and slams against the trunk of a tree, sinking to the ground. I ignore the sickening sound his body makes, at least I try to. But my heart itches to see if he's moving. His storm doesn't stop, it grows stronger, and I know he's all right.

Through the bond of Grounding, his power beats inside my chest.

One of Darius's hands breaks free and frantically pushes the stone away. His hands are caked with blood and something must be broken because tears cloud his eyes and dribble down the sides of his face.

Rain patters down on us as I circle him. The ground tugs at me, begging for an escape from the stone, and Darius pleads. "Don't do this, Roux. You're not a killer," he sobs.

He will overpower you when given the chance, my power warns.

I listen to what I've known for most of my life and stretch my palm towards him, power rumbling at my fingertips. That blow desires more than anything to swallow Darius whole as the rain turns into a blinding force. I know Renit is stalking towards me and maybe half the guards but I don't care. If everything ends in this courtyard, I know I tried. I tried for Celestine, for Renit, for Silas, and for my parents. None of my struggles worked.

I'm content with where I've been and the things I've seen.