Chapter 56: A Sorcerer's Fight
"You witch," Heath growled, pulling himself up from the floor, voice jagged like broken glass.
"I was never the one dying," Valerie said coldly, her steps unhurried as she walked toward him. The soft white of her nightgown now moved like a storm around her legs—still stained faintly with the fading shimmer of illusion magic. Her silver eyes locked onto his with calm fury, ancient and unflinching.
Heath snarled. "You think you're so clever, don't you?" With a flick of his wrist, a whip of fire exploded from his palm—hissing and writhing through the air like a serpent. It roared toward her, painting the shadows on the walls in a flickering blaze.
But Valerie didn't flinch.
She raised her hand with perfect composure, her fingers tracing a sigil midair, and the flame collided with an invisible barrier, shattering into harmless sparks that fizzled to the floor like dying fireflies.
