Meet my Overprotective Brothers
It was mocking her, holding up the fake rejection letter, its eyes filled with a cruel, familiar pity.
I am not that girl in the cellar, Elara thought. The violet heat in her veins began to boil, but it didn't feel like an explosion this time. It felt like a whetstone sharpening a blade. I am a Thorne. I am the Star-Eater. And you... you are nothing but a memory I am finished with.
She reached into the air, her fingers curling as if grasping a hilt.
The air in the hallway shrieked. A pillar of violet fire erupted from her palm, condensing and hardening until she was holding a jagged, shimmering blade of pure celestial energy. It wasn't physical metal; it was light made solid.