The Pretty Prince and the Beast King
The resulting shockwave of violet-gold light blew the fog back for a hundred yards, exposing the assassins crouching in the reeds.
The aftermath was a stinging, shaking hangover.
Kaelor didn't let go. He held Aradaa, his chest heaving, his skin stinging from the friction. He looked at the exposed assassins. The neon-green glow in their eyes was replaced by a visible, shivering fear.
"My turn," Kaelor whispered.
He set Aradaa down. Aradaa’s limbs were shaking, his skin flushed and glowing with the residual heat. He leaned against the tree, his breathing a jagged mess.