Pain bit sharp and bright, but I pulled anyway, planting my boots against the slick stone path and dragging the thing toward me with a snarl that came out more wolf than girl.
“Bad flower,” I hissed.
Then I tore it in half.
For one glorious second, I felt amazing.
Powerful.
Terrifying.
Very emotionally stable.
Then three more vines came out of the mist.
Of course.
Because why have one cursed plant when you could have a botanical ambush?
“Fine,” I snapped, lifting both hands. “Let’s do this the loud way.”
Itaca surged with me.
Gold rushed under my skin, hot and familiar, filling my palms, my wrists, my teeth. The air lifted around me. My hair rose off my shoulders. The nearest roses pulled back, petals trembling, and for one beautiful, stupid second I thought they were afraid.
