Elira's POV

My grip tightened on the throne, my chest rising and falling as I struggled to breathe but all my mouth could manage was a wild gulp of the air that wasn't even in the room.

More sweat glided down my skin, running across my back. Pressure tightened in my chest, a sharp splitting headache hitting me as I felt the pull in my muscles.

My hold on the throne unclasped instantly and my body gave in, crashing hard against the floor.

Dante's maniac laughter rang across the room. “See, you are not all mighty, Elira. You are just like your father, all fire and no action.”

My insides...