Morgana frowned, as if surprised that Anna would even recall such a trivial event.

“That woman was nothing more than a pawn who was barely civil to you. You can’t have mourned her loss.”

“The two of you were the only relatives that I knew existed and, unlike you, I actually believe that means something,” Anna gritted. “Especially now that I understand what it means to be a part of a family.”

“You consider a clan of the walking dead as your family?” Morgana made a sound of disgust. “You are truly pathetic.”

Without warning, Anna felt a surge of warmth flood her heart. It wasn’t the strange heat of her elemental power, but it was power nonetheless. The power that Cezar had given to her when he had claimed her as his mate.

She would never again be alone.

Not even on this isolated isle. Cezar and his clan were with her.

And that knowledge gave her far more strength than any gem or ancient power.

Chapter 22

Tilting her chin, Anna wrapped herself in the unwavering comfort of Cezar’s bond. This golden palace with the swirling mist and priceless works of art might be impressive, but it was nothing more than a cold, empty prison. Just as all the countless homes that Anna had inhabited over the centuries had been hallow shells.

Did Morgana realize her loss? Had she ever felt true emotions?

“You know, Morgana, as much as I might hate you and what you’ve done, I still pity you.”

“Pity me?” Without warning, Morgana was moving forward, striking Anna across the face with enough force to split her lip. Obviously being pitied was more infuriating than being insulted. Go figure. “I have more than you could ever dream possible.”

“You have nothing,” Anna denied, determined to press the woman’s temper. A fine notion, supposing her powers decided to make a timely return. If not…well, she was shit out of luck. “You have no one who loves you, no one who cares. You’re completely alone and there’s not a creature on this earth who would mourn if you died. Actually, I don’t doubt that there would be a celebration on your grave. That’s…just sad.”

The next blow sent Anna to her knees. “Shut up,” Morgana hissed.

Pain ricocheted through Anna’s head, but along with it came the first stirring in her blood. Thank merciful heaven. She wasn’t doomed to fighting the magical queen with nothing more than a chunk of emerald and her bare hands.

Sheer relief allowed her to climb to her feet.

Still, she didn’t instantly strike out. The power was faint and elusive, as if stupidly hoping that it wouldn’t need to be used.

Or perhaps it was her own conscience that was stupidly hoping.

In either case it was…yeah, stupid.

“It isn’t too late, you know,” she grudgingly muttered, wiping the blood from her lips. She had no idea if she was capable of besting Morgana even with her powers at full force, but her sense of fair play demanded that she at least try to convince the woman to avoid a bloody, lethal smack down.

“Too late?” Morgana sneered, her hand lifting to encircle Anna in bands of punishing air.

Anna groaned in pain, but refused to back down. “I assume that you’re capable of changing if you really want to.”

Morgana laughed in genuine amusement. “You mean that I could become a loving, benevolent queen who adores her subjects?”

The bands continued to slowly tighten, threatening to cut off Anna’s air supply. Not to mention hurting like a bitch. “Something like that,” she rasped.

Confident that she had Anna at her mercy, Morgana stepped forward and grasped her chin in a punishing grip. “And I suppose that would also include not killing you?”

“That would be first on the list,” Anna rasped, her powers starting to pump full force as a blackness began to swirl through her oxygen-deprived mind. The choking bands wouldn’t kill her, but they would make her pass out for a time.

Morgana narrowed her eyes. “Fool.”

“No, simply a woman who understands that after two centuries of merely surviving, life is worth nothing without love in it. You might someday rule the world, but you will still be miserable.”

The magnificent green eyes flashed, as if overwhelmed by the need to shut up Anna’s soft words.

“Life is about power,” she gritted, using her grip on Anna’s face to bang her head into the column. “Who has it…” Bang, bang, bang. “Who doesn’t.”

Anna couldn’t halt her cry of agony as her skull began to crack beneath the relentless pounding. She had to stop this.

Now.

Unconsciously grasping the emerald tight in her hand, she forced her poor, abused mind to concentrate on the heat that bubbled in her blood.

For once the energy didn’t just burst out of her in an uncontrollable flood. In fact, it didn’t go anywhere. Instead, she felt herself sink into the golden waves that flowed through her body, like beautiful ribbons that sparkled with a brilliant glow.

Since the powers had first started to manifest themselves, she had hated them. No…she’d feared them. They marked her as even more different. Even more apart from the rest of the world.

Now she realized that the magic was a gift. It wasn’t evil, just as it wasn’t good. It just…was. An elemental force that was formed and directed by her own heart.

And it was that acceptance that offered her the control that had been so elusive.

Allowing the heat to pour upward, she focused on the bands that held her with a ruthless grip. In her mind she could picture them, as hard and thick as steel. They would be impossible to break with brute force, so instead she imagined her powers seeping deep inside them, the heat melting them until they became pliable.

Releasing her powers, she clenched her hands as Morgana continued with her assault, her blows becoming even more vicious as she sensed Anna’s attempt to escape.

“No,” Morgana hissed. “This time you die.”

Anna gritted her teeth, battling the pain even as she sensed the bonds beginning to loosen.

“You’re too weak to kill me, Morgana,” she warned. “Stop this before I’m forced to hurt you.”

“Hurt me?” Morgana gave a wild scream, her hand crushing the bones of Anna’s chin. “I am a queen, a goddess. My powers are without end. You are nothing more than an abomination.”

Not so many years ago, Anna might have agreed with her psycho aunt. She had felt like an abomination. But not anymore.

Now she realized that she was something special, something unique. Something worthy of being loved.

And that was everything.

“I’m Anna Randal, a woman who is intelligent, capable, and a damn fine lawyer,” she said proudly, feeling the bonds slowly, but surely, loosening beneath her steady flow of energy. “I’m mate to Conde Cezar and distant granddaughter of King Arthur. And just as importantly, I’m the woman who is destined to kick your ass.”

“Why you vain little bitch, I will…”

Sensing the bonds were fragile, Anna ignored Morgana’s furious tirade, concentrating on one last surge of power. Her heart gave a leap of shock as she felt them shatter and fall away.

Before Morgana could react, Anna lifted her hand, grasping Morgana’s wrist and with one fierce motion twisted it away from her face. The wrenching pain nearly sent her to her knees, but she refused to so much as blink as she glared into the murderous green eyes.

“Stop this now, Morgana,” she said, her voice astonishingly steady, although the words were slurred from her injured chin. “I won’t tell you again.”

Something that might have been genuine fear briefly flared through Morgana’s gaze before she jerked her arm free and tossed her long mane of crimson hair. “You think I’m frightened just because my brother taught you a few tricks? It won’t save you.”

Anna smiled, not bothering to correct the impression that Arthur had taught her to use her powers. It was much better for Morgana to believe she had gained some training than to admit she was still fumbling and bumbling her way through it all.

“Actually, those tricks seem to be doing a fine job of saving me,” she retorted, her hand lifting to touch her aching chin. It was healing, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt. A lot. “And if you don’t back off they’re going to do a fine job of killing you.”

Morgana’s lips twisted, her hands pointed toward Anna as her hair floated in the rising breeze.

“Die.”

Anna gasped and then braced herself against the sharp pellets of air that threatened to skewer her. Damn, she didn’t know that you could turn air into bullets.

Not the most pleasant of surprises.

Jerking as a particularly vicious shard sliced open the skin of her stomach, Anna instinctively lifted the emerald that had begun to glow with a shimmering green light.

It was time for the gem to do what it was supposed to do.

Whatever the hell that was.

Still being peppered with the painful daggers of air, she ignored the urge to cower behind one of the marble columns and instead concentrated on the glow spreading from the gem. Surely Arthur wouldn’t have called her to his grave to give her this if it didn’t have some effect on Morgana?