Closing my eyes, I realized that if I wanted to be free of this torment, only I had the power to do that. I had to make the decision to let go of the pain.
“It’s okay to feel sad or hurt by the actions of others, but you will always have the power to decide how you react to it. Those reactions can give them power and control over your life based upon that. If you choose to focus on the good in your life still, then they didn’t win, did they?”
You’re right, Dad.
“This is forme,” I whispered as the salty tears flooded my mouth.
It was as if I heard the metal click of the mental shackles he’d clasped on me unlocking.
With one swift yank backward, I pulled his head from his body before immediately throwing it back to the ground. My shoulders sagged as I took a stumbling step backward, eyes glued to the mess of his body I’d left in the wake of my rage.
I wasn’t sure exactly when he’d died or if the venom had done the job or if it had been when I pulled his head from his shoulders. Forme, he died now—in this moment as I gained my freedom, truly.
I was killing the control I’d given him through my reactions and emotions.
Malakai’s life wouldn’t continue in my memories. I wouldn’t give him the fucking satisfaction.
With that, the shackles dissipated for good, untethering me from him.
“Goodbye, Malakai,” I murmured and turned away from the bloody, pulpy mess of his body on the floor, bending to grab my dagger as I prepared to go back to help my men and those brave humans.
A loud clap cracked through the room out of nowhere, bouncing off the walls in a never-ending echo. Chills raced down my spine at the sound, and I quickly unsheathed my second dagger, dropping into a fighting stance.
“Well, well, well,” a deep voice purred. “What do we have here, little dhampyr?”
My head whipped around as I tried to pinpoint where the voice was coming from. It felt as if it was close and far at the same time.
“That was a lovely show you put on,” the voice praised, and my skin crawled, feeling as if the person it belonged to was wrapping around my mind in a caress.
Why did I feel this sudden invasion of privacy?
Pain lanced in my head, and I hissed, squinting against the sudden searing lance. It felt like claws were digging around in my brain, trying to carve a pathway to my consciousness.
“Just let me in,” the voice soothed as I cried out in pain when the stabbing probe continued. “It’ll be so much better when you do. We can accomplish so much more than I ever could with that pathetic, self-proclaimed Emperor.”
Hearing them talk poorly of Malakai caused me to falter in my fight against them for a moment before I processed the rest of their words. The owner of this voice had been working with Malakai, and that relationship hadn’t gotten him what he wanted.
One person instantly came to mind.
The fight over my mind ceased the second I whispered, “Lazarus.”
The pain cleared in an instant, and I was able to unclench my eyes and glance around furtively for the old god.
It was as if he was one with the shadows, the way he emerged from a recessed corner. He was immaculately dressed from head to toe and looked like the highest Lord of the lands might. He had short, slicked black hair and cheek and jaw lines that looked as sharp as the edges of paper.
“You know of me?” he asked in a seductive tone, his crimson eyes flaring with interest as they ran the length of my body.
I couldn’t help the disgust that blanketed my entire being to the invasive stare. My nostrils flared as my upper lip curled, and I answered, “Yes, I knew you’d be here.”
I didn’t want to give away that Barnabus was here and on my side, so I was going to keep the specifics of my knowledge to myself for now.
Shit!What if he’d already met Barnabus and hurt him?
Calm down, Kyella. Focus on the now.
I halted all thoughts headed in that direction as Lazarus spread his arms in a welcoming gesture, like the one Malakai had given me when I broke into the room.
“Well, that makes this all so much easier!” he exclaimed as he slowly prowled toward me. “You know then that you won’t be able to kill me and that resisting me is futile. How lovely this is turning out to be.”
