“Is the plane ready?” he asks one on his right, a captain. Mid-forties, close-cropped hair, rugged face.
Of course, Alden has a small private plane waiting.
“As you ordered, Prophet. What about the fallen?” The captain gestures to the fires and pits.
Alden glances around. “We do not abandon our own. Gather any survivors, provided the territory is safe. But if the fires are spreading, take no risk that could result in loss of life. Bury the ones you can. Have medics treat survivors. Then return to Easthaven.”
“Yes, Prophet.” He flicks his eyes to me, and I turn away, resisting the urge to squirm. “Pretty little thing. Hope she was worth the trouble.”
Alden’s jaw clenches. “My future bride is not athing. Do well to remember this, Captain Woods.”
The captain bows his head. “My apologies, Prophet.”
“One last thing.” Alden’s venom slides over me. He traces a circle into my arm, casual as ever. “Call our forces back from the north.”
He pauses. “And queue the drone to track the GPS in my SUV. Target mode.”
What? Terror surges through me as Alden follows the Captain inside the tent. A nearby laptop glows to life, blue light reflecting off Alden’s face as he types a string of commands.
A live drone feed fills the screen—aerial footage scanning over the wintry treetops, closing in on a winding road. There it is: the black SUV. Five glowing heat signatures inside.
My stomach drops through the earth.
“No!” I thrash, trying to break free, trying to reach the laptop. “We had a deal!”
Alden holds me tighter, mocking, “And I’ve upheld it. I gave them the keys. A running start. I never said I’d let them win.”
He tilts his head. “Arm it.”
The Captain clicks something. A soft mechanical beep. A red icon blinks on screen.
[DRONE ARMED – TARGET LOCKED]
The Captain murmurs, “Payload locked. ETA: forty seconds.”
Alden smiles. “Merry Christmas.”
Screaming, I swing the cane in desperation. It cracks through the air and glances off the laptop, knocking it sideways. It still glows with that blinking red light.
Alden’s grip tightens. His arm cinches around my torso like a vice. My feet kick, but he’s stronger.
“Let me GO!” I shriek, thrashing like an animal, but he lifts me like I weigh nothing.
Then the screen flashes:
[IMPACT CONFIRMED]
[SIGNATURES LOST]
I freeze. Just one heartbeat.
Then…I detonate.
I see all shades of red. I go berserk, twisting in his arms, screaming until I don’t even recognize my screams. No words—just sound, raw and cracked. My heart melts. My soul burns. I claw, kick, bite. Spit in his face. Slam my fists into whatever I can reach: his chest, jaw, shoulder. My cane drops with a dull thunk as I flail.
“YOU MURDERED THEM!” I roar, the words ripping from my throat like broken glass. “YOU FUCKING MONSTER! YOU BASTARD! YOU MOTHERFUCKING COCKSUCKING PIECE OF SHIT?—”
The curses don’t come in strings. They come in chains—in black iron and sulfur, in brimstone and the power I used to survive the Initiation.
