"Correct," he said, offering an even more angelic smile that made Jasmine's heart race faster.
She shoved whatever she was feeling down and glared at him.
It was strange—Jasmine had an affinity for fire. People always said those with fire affinities were hot-blooded and quick-tempered. Yet Jasmine had never thought of herself that way. If anything, she was more like someone with an affinity for ice—cool, controlled.
So when a barrage of fireballs, spears, a wave of flame, and countless other fire spells surged toward Pollux, it wasn't because she had lost her temper.
No. She was fully aware. Fully in control.
...That didn't mean it wasn't satisfying.
When Jasmine finally lowered her hand, the flames in front of her began to fade, dissolving into smoke. A black silhouette stood within it.
Then the silhouette lifted a hand, and with a single lazy motion, the smoke dispersed.
Pollux stood there exactly as before, wearing the same gentle, warm smile. His robes were unscathed.
