Elora swallowed hard and shook her head, trying to suppress the fear that rose in her chest. “No.” She had felt relatively normal, besides the fatigue and the pain that radiated through her back. But nothing like what he was asking.
Thorn pressed his lips into a thin line, his fingers rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he turned back to his workbench. “I haven’t yet been able to figure out how the Al’teran can shift at will. The electric shocks… Well, they’re a crude method. Effective, but hardly efficient.” His gaze flicked back to her, eyes narrowing. “I wonder,” he mused, “if the transformation works like controlling elemental alchemy, where you think it, will it, and it obeys your thoughts. You know how it works.”
Thorn’s eyes gleamed with curiosity as he stepped closer. “Try it,” he commanded. “Imagine your nails growing into claws, your teeth sharpening to fangs. Picture your vision sharpening, as it did last time.”
She hesitated. Was this part of the experiment, or was Thorn genuinely trying to see if she could harness this horrific power on her own? More importantly, what would he do if she figured it out? Would he chain her to the wall immediately, like the Al’teran?
“Go on,” Thorn urged, his voice more insistent now.
Elora closed her eyes, focusing. She imagined her nails extending, turning into sharp, deadly claws. She pictured her teeth shifting into fangs, her vision sharpening into the unnerving clarity she had experienced. But… nothing. She felt nothing.
Thorn let out a disappointed grunt, clearly unimpressed. He crossed his arms, his expression hardening with irritation. “Useless,” he muttered under his breath. Then, without warning, he reached for the enchanted ring on his workbench, slipping it onto his finger.
She knew what was coming. The electric shocks. The painful, unnatural force that had triggered her transformation last time.
Her body tensed, her mind flashing to Tehvan’s warning:release the vapor before Thorn gets his hands on you.
But as she watched Thorn prepare to reach for her, a dark thought crept into her mind. If Thorn triggered her transformation again, she would have a distinct advantage. Her claws, her strength, the heightened senses. She would be more capable of fighting, ofsurviving the escape. The only risk was whether she could change back once she was free.
Elora had made up her mind. She would use this twisted power against him, againstall of them. If she was going to escape Thorn, she wanted to do it on her terms with the powers he’d forced upon her. She closed her eyes, steadying her breathing, and waited.
When Thorn’s hand gripped her shoulder, the familiar shock of electricity surged through her, jolting her entire body. The pain was there, of course. Thorn’s touch was always painful, but the transformation itself wasn’t as agonizing this time. Her body was adjusting to it, bending to the new reality of what she was becoming.
When Elora opened her eyes again, the room came into sharp focus. The chamber was now bathed in detail, her vision crisp and unnervingly clear. She saw every shadow, every crack in the stone walls, and even the subtle movements of the air itself. Her senses were heightened, everything more vivid and intense. She grazed her tongue over her teeth and felt the sharp edge of a fang.Perfect.
Now it was time to set the actual plan in motion.
Thorn, satisfied with her transformation, stepped back to his workbench, his eyes gleaming with twisted pride. “I want to experiment with your blood again, now that it’s imbued with something far beyond the Empire’s current understanding.” He spoke casually, as though what he was doing to her was routine, nothing out of the ordinary.
He motioned to the guards. “Strap her to the gurney.”
Elora tensed, her mind racing, but she knew stalling was futile. The guards grabbed her before she could pull out the vial, and pushed her down onto the cold metal gurney, securing her wrists and ankles with leather straps. When they were done, the guards returned to the door, distracted by their conversation. She clenched her fists, testingthe restraints. They were tight, but Thorn had made a mistake. The thin leather holding her left wrist was within reach of her claws.
Thorn turned away, engrossed in setting up his equipment. Now was her chance. She wiggled her wrist just enough to slip her claws along the edge of the cuff. An oversight.Not like Thorn to make mistakes.
With a swift, silent motion, she sliced through the leather strap, freeing her left hand. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she kept her expression carefully neutral. Thorn was distracted. She reached into her pocket, cupping the vial in her hand.
Just as Thorn turned, Elora quickly dropped her hand to her side, pretending that her wrist was still secured. Thorn didn’t seem to notice. His focus was on preparing her right arm for the needle, oblivious to the approaching storm.
Elora didn’t bother to uncork the vial. She let it fall, hearing the satisfyingcrackas it shattered against the floor. Instantly, the vapor rose. She held her breath, easier to do in this shifted form, and watched as the guards collapsed one by one, their bodies crumpling to the floor with heavy thuds.
Thorn’s eyes widened as he realized what had happened. He turned to Elora, recognition flashing in his eyes. He knew she had just made her move in this game they’d unknowingly been playing. Their gazes locked, and Elora smirked, her fangs poking out from beneath her lips. The silent message was obvious.
You underestimated me.
Thorn opened his mouth, perhaps to shout an order, but he didn’t get the chance. The vapor took effect quickly, and his body slumped forward, collapsing over Elora. She grinned to herself, knowing Thorn’s personal vendetta against her and Tehvan will now be his undoing.
With Thorn unconscious on top of her and the vapor dissipated, Elora cut her remaining limbs free. She shoved Thorn off of her, his limp body crumbling to the floor with a dull thud, the sound deeply satisfying.
Elora stood over him, panting, the taste of victory sweet on her tongue. She looked down at him, his face slack and vulnerable, a sight that should have brought her relief, but instead, a strange, exhilarating thrill coursed through her. Power, raw and untamed, surged through her veins, a heady intoxicant.
She couldn’t waste time gawking at her success. Tehvan was waiting, and every second spent here was a risk. But before she left, her eyes drifted to Thorn’s workbench, the clutter of notes, vials, and alchemical tools scattered across its surface.
The essence.
The part of her that thirsted for knowledge couldn’t leave without it.
Elora stumbled toward the workbench and rifled through the papers with shaky hands. Pages of old formulas, diagrams, and calculations blurred before her eyes, but she kept digging, pulling aside anything that didn’t seem important. Her hands fumbled, her mind racing.
