“Well, I already have this wonderful dress to wear, so I suppose we can just head straight there,” I snap sarcastically.
The heaviness of sleep dulls my senses, and I don’t even register her movements, when?—
CRACK!
Her backhand snaps across my mouth. The unmistakable taste of blood blooms across my tongue and coats my teeth.
I smile a maniacal, crazed thing, split lip and mouth full of blood only adding to my chaos. “Or would you rather me go naked this time?”
I will endure.
I will endure.
I will endure.
Vessira yanks me up by the chains Correk reluctantly fastened back in place. “If it was up to me,whore,” she spits, “you wouldn’t be here at all.”
“Well, lucky for me it’s not up to you. I hope His Majesty likes scars,” I say sarcastically, winking. I want her unassuming. I want her feeling like she’s in power.
“I wouldn’t let my king see you like that—it would be a sign of disrespect,” she spits, and begins to drag me by the chains on my wrists across the gritty dungeon floors.
And that’s when I close my eyes.
I control my breath as she pulls me up the first step.
I still my mind when she slams me into the wall.
I slow my heartbeat until I can hear the steady hum reverberate through my bones.
“Open your eyes, you weak rat. It’s far too soon for the fun to be over,” she taunts, assuming I’m losing consciousness.
But I keep them closed.
Because the hum is there again, steady beneath the terror.
Vessira yanks on my chains, an attempt to wake me.
But I have other plans.
“Duskae,” I whisper. “Grant me your power.”
Vessira mumbles something, but I don’t hear.
Because a distant voice whispers, quiet but clear, “Always, my daughter.”
And fiery, molten magic sparks to life in my veins. I channel it, just as I do with my Lightborne magic until it pools in my palm like a spark, waiting for me to command it into a wildfire.
Flame. Duskae’s magic is a wildfire?
I urge the magic out, pushing it towards Vessira with almighty force.
A channel of fiery light blazes from my chained hands, and hits Vessira straight in her chest, blasting her up the stairs andinto Kryntar Castle’s halls. She cries out, agonized, confused, disoriented, and I don’t try to stop the smile that stretches across my face.
Vessira’s muscular frame collides with the obsidian wall of the castle. Something cracks on impact—bone or stone, I don’t know. Her breathing comes in ragged pants, fogging against the cold floor of this unholy place. I pull myself to my feet, chains obliterated, and stalk towards her with a power that will not be tamed.
I loom over her, just as she did to me, because I want her infinitesimally small. I want her cowering from my shadow.I want her afraid.
I brace my palms on my knees and lean close to her face. I imbue venom and malice into every word, “It is a coward who inflicts violence on those who cannot defend themselves. I am no rat in your gutter, Vessira. I am the daughter of gods, and not even your pathetic chains will hold me. No, Vessira, I am the wolf at your campfire, circling, waiting for the perfect moment to bare my teeth and rip your fucking throat out.”
