Theo
Cold, hard rainpelted Theo’s flushed cheeks. He needed to breathe. His lungs forced the air in, and he choked. His blotchy vision sharpened on the sky. The storms circling above. Had he again been spared, or had Sephardi failed in her attempts to kill him?
Theo regained control of his hands. He slid them until they met cold metal. His sword. He clutched the hilt and pulled himself to his feet.
Sephardi kneeled before Amaris, her pistol pointed at her heart. Fear had no place. Anger simmered. His rage wasn’t containable against any predator who dared harm anyone he cared for. Theo had surrendered once in his life, and he never intended to again.
Come quietly or he dies.The words echoed by Mosfelkov’s ruthless king, Terje Ottum, a cold and beastly man with hair the color of snow and a heart as brutal as the ice storms swirling outside his castle.
The throne room of Oystein Castle had been a dark chamber lit with torches burning flames so hot they had appeared blue. Theo’s tight grip around his sword had faltered at the sight before him. Whatever had been left of the old Theo Fastrada had died that night, consumed by the monster.
Don’t do it!Nate had shouted with a blade pressed to his neck.
Theo had laid down his sword, raising his hands behind his head and dropping to his knees. He’d turned from Nate’s expression, unwilling to face his failure. Now, he’d give anything to go back and see his face, to have another memory of his best friend because his surrender had been for nothing.
“They called him the Hydra.” Sephardi’s voice rang in his ears, pulling him back to the fight before him.
Theo breathed deeply. He’d wasted his energy fighting the demon inside him, but no more. He’d never spoken of who he’d become that night. He couldn’t face the name his enemies screamed when they met his face on the battlefield.
After his squad had been slain, he’d taken as many of their soldiers, if not more, to their graves. He’d never intended to survive, slashing his blade through each gut and severing their heads from their bodies. He did it because he thought death awaited him, and he’d atone in After. But he hadn’t been met with death. He’d been their prisoner, tortured for his transgressions. They didn’t care for information, only that he’d suffered for what he’d done to their people, their friends.
He paid in his dreams, forced to relive his hand in being the means to their ends. What tortured him most wasn’t the pain when he’d been imprisoned, but the faces of all those he’d murdered in a fit of rage. Yes, it’d been war, but nothing could’ve stopped him as he barreled through the guards and soldiers who dared step in his path. Upon returning to the war, his name had been muttered across battlefields. Where he stepped, they cowered at it. The Hydra.
“I don’t care,” Amaris said.
“You should,” Theo hissed, the voice of the Hydra ringing out. He felt none of his injuries as he stood with his sword raised. Basilisk was the blade’s name. A serpent crafted into the metal of the hilt with an emerald for its eye. It was the perfect weapon for the Hydra.
Sephardi pivoted, firing her gun. She missed. Theo palmed the creature within his grasp, angling the sword. Blood dripped down the once pristine blade. As he jumped for her, Basilisk came slashing down.
His mind was overtaken by the Hydra. The raging calm settled over his once panicked demeanor. He allowed the infestation of the creature. He’d fight and protect. For them, he’d tunnel within himself and let the beast take form.
Sephardi sprang forward, snagging her sword and fighting with a newfound energy. Blood coated her shoulder, but it didn’t faze her. Her movements were precise and ruthless. But Theo met her fury with his own.
Theo had been betrayed that night in Oystein Castle. They’d been sent on a mission to retrieve the plans for troop movements that could’ve ended the war. Once inside the castle, a swarm of Mosfelkov soldiers had fallen upon them. There had been no plans. A traitor had been among their ranks and had sent them to their deaths.
Sephardi moved with impossible speed, but Theo had fought by her side for years and knew her ways. He guarded her blows and slashed with his blade. He nicked her thigh with a vicious jab, and she screamed. Sephardi might not have betrayed him then, but she was no friend to him now. A monster lived within Theo. Placed there by the forces of Mosfelkov when they showed his soldiers no mercy. But whatever Sephardi had become was a monster incarnate. She eyed him with her angry silhouettes.
“Of all people to betray me, I never thought it would be you.” Theo glowered.
“You think you can lead again? You’ve allowed her to consume you.”
Amaris rifled through her satchel behind Sephardi. Blood dripped from the cut in her chest, but a pool of blood piled underneath her. Her skin was pale, and her hands trembled.
“I’ve allowed Amaris to show me the truth of the realm.” Theo raised his blade and, with a single swipe, he disarmed Sephardi.
She went for a dagger, but Theo was there with his fists and grippedher wrist, pinning it between her shoulder blades. Her scream was weak. He dropped his sword to wrap his arm around her neck.
“You were supposed to be my friend,” Theo whispered in her ear. “My mentor.” His arm tightened around her throat, and she dug her nails into his flesh. “Now, you’re nothing to me.” His arm flexed, and he felt the darkness creeping into his mind. But a breath of a whisper stilled him.
“Theodoric.” Amaris slid her hands around his arm.
He faced her as she stood before him while he strangled Sephardi.
“Look at me,” she breathed.
Pain, anguish, fear. Every unbearable feeling rushed into him, and he dropped Sephardi. She hit the deck and didn’t move. Amaris dropped to her side, but all Theo could see were his hands soaked with rainwater but stained in blood. His knee throbbed, sending stabbing pains up his leg. His shoulder was a dull ache, and blood dripped past his elbow. He teetered and gripped the main mast as his vision threatened to darken.
What have I done?Theo collapsed to his knees.
