A pang of guilt shot through her heart with the sight, but it faded away as a choked, sinister laugh trickled out from the cell.
“Finally, come to finish what you started? Or are you going to run away again, like the scared little girl you are?” Kyra’s eyes were closed, her voice hoarse, and the harsh rasp sent her into a cough that seemed to overtake her whole body.
Stealing her spine and adopting an air of nonchalance that she didn’t feel, Auraelia closed the distance to the cell. “I see you didn’t heed my advice,” she said, gesturing to the festering wound on Kyra’s leg.
A menacing smile tugged on Kyra’s lips as she cracked her eyes open and peered at Auraelia. “Your healers must have lost their way to my cell.”
Auraelia shrugged and sat in the chair that was still sitting where she’d left it. “Must have.”
“So—” Kyra winced as she pushed away from the wall to adjust herself. “Is this it then? Am I to finally meet the Goddesses in Arcelia?”
Auraelia’s chuckle was dark as her gaze clashed with Kyra’s. “I think you and I both know you won’t meet the Goddesses in Arcelia. You’ll be lucky if the Goddess Keres claims your soul for the underrealm.”
Kyra let out another choked laugh. “And what about you,Your Majesty? How black will your soul be once this is all over?”
Auraelia clenched her jaw, every muscle in her body drawing taut as she struggled to maintain some semblance of control. She knew that Kyra was going to push her. Had thought that their last encounter had been enough of a lesson to prepare her. But she’d been wrong.
One look at the smug smile beginning to stretch across Kyra’s face had cracked her carefully placed mask, and her rage manifested tenfold.
Heat began to flood her veins, white light creeping into her vision as sparks lit the ends of her fingers. Everything that she’d been suppressing rushed to the surface.
Hate.
Pure, unfettered, and blinding hatred for the people who insisted on uprooting her life.
Lord Harland. Davina. Lady Lavena, Lord Kaemon of Pearl, and the assassins they’d sent to kill her.
But tangled within it was also hatred that she’d thought she’d squashed months ago. Hatred for her mother. For how she’d kept Auraelia in the dark all these years. For the secrets she’d refused to share that inevitably led to her death.
That realization fueled her rage into a living, breathing thing. The air around them stirred, and from her periphery, she could see Piper and Aiden stiffen where they stood just inside the doorway.
Blocking out the anxious gazes on their faces, Auraelia focused on the woman who’d set this all into motion. The one who would receive the brunt of the rage she’d kept bottled up for far too long. “I will turn my soul the color of the blackest night if it means keeping my people safe.”
Kyra shifted then, turning her body to face Auraelia as a Cheshire grin spread across her lips. “Then we are one and the same.”
“I amnothinglike you.”
Auraelia released the hold on her magic. Let it flow out of her in controlled waves and delve into Kyra, her lightning lighting up the dark cell. Kyra’s screams bounced off the walls, echoing through the small chamber until Auraelia pulled the air from her lungs to smother the sound. Kyra’s body convulsed so violently that she flung herself from her cot, her head landing with a loud crack against the stone floor.
She could feel the life beginning to leave Kyra’s body.
Could feel her heart slam against her ribs as it attempted to pump blood to her dying limbs. Felt Kyra’s lungs scream for the air Auraelia continued to deny them.
It was a rush like no other.
The feeling of holding someone’s life in your hands. Of being the one to either grant them the gift of life or snuff out the light in their eyes.
Auraelia fed into that feeling, letting it build and grow until it nearly consumed her. The magic in her veins flooded every pore, and she poured it into the writhing woman in front of her.
She no longer cared what happened to her soul.
She no longer cared for anything other than the euphoria from delving into her darkest parts. From the feeling that seeking retribution gave her.
She was on the brink of fully succumbing to that alluring darkness when a ghost of a voice filtered into her mind.
You’re not Kyra, Auraelia. And you sure as hell aren’t Davina. You’re one of the strongest people that I have ever met.
As if Daemon had been standing right beside her, the silky cadence of his voice wrapped around her like the shadows he commanded, luring her away from the nothingness that called her name. A welcome sense of calm washed over her, smoothing the rough edges of her soul and clearing the blinding rage that coursed in her veins. It was like being bathed in sunshine, and realization took its place as the darkness ebbed away.
