“I wish I could help you with that,” I say calmly.
Her body reacts before her mind does, her shoulders stiffening, breath hitching ever so quietly before she turns as if she’s already braced for something she doesn’t yet understand.
At least she’s not entirely dumb. She knows I’m dangerous. Good.
She finishes the creature in one vicious, efficient strike, severing its head clean off. The body falls to the ground, splattering blood across my boots and pants. I remain emotionless, my eyes on her.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, glancing around. There’s confusion on her face. “Shouldn’t you-”
“Yeah,” I interrupt softly, “But I needed to be here.”
Her eyes search my face, confusion giving way to concern and worry. She raises her hand, as if she thinks she might still beable to reach me, still able to fix whatever she’s sensing.
I step away from her touch.
“What do you mean you need to be here?” she asks softly. I raise my eyebrow.
“To fix things, remember?” I whisper sinisterly.
Her face crumbles, understanding settling in when she realises what I mean, but even then, she reaches up for me, her fingers trembling.
“You’re scaring me,” she whispers, her voice shaking.
I tilt my head, studying her. “Why?” I ask lightly. “Why are you so scared?”
Her brows knit together, denial flickering across her face as she shakes her head. “No. I just-”
“Well, you should be.”
My words hit her hard as she stares at me, her eyes glittering with tears. I never took her for the crying type.
“Please, talk to me. Why are you doing this?”
Another hiss cuts through the trees as a morghul charges toward us, but it doesn’t matter, because backup will be here soon, and I can’t allow that to happen.
I step forward and lift my hand, dark smoke pouring from my palm, tightly controlled so no one senses it. All this time, I’ve been able to pretend I’m normal; that there is nothing special about me, and it has to stay that way.
She looks at me, her eyes full of pain.
“What are you planning to do?” she asks softly, and I realise even though she’s worried and scared, she doesn’t think I’ll harm her. That’s laughable.
Because I’m her child.
The one she carried, the one she fed, the one she has always tried to shield.
But she still doesn’t move, as if somehow her not believing this will make it stop.
“I’m going to kill you,” I reply lightly as my power curls around her, and then I twist my hand sharply.
The smoke solidifies instantly, piercing through her chest, stomach and throat, rupturing muscle and bone with sickening force, and her body jerks violently as blood spills from her mouth in thick, choking spurts.
Her eyes widen in horror as she stares at me. I twist my hand, spreading it wide, watching as I break her tiny body in ways it never should.
She lets out a choked sound, her lungs failing her as she struggles to draw breath that won’t come, as blood drowns her airway. She gags on it, her entire body beginning to convulse. She claws desperately at her neck, but she’s too weak.
Yet, her eyes never leave mine, now filled with blood and tears.
She doesn’t scream.
