She kept it in check, even as they reached the commander’s tent and he threw her inside. Glowing gas lamps flickered as she hit the ground, pain vibrating up her spine.
“What are you hiding?” he growled, towering over her.
She shook her head. “I didn’t know,” she gasped.
It was a lie, one she had been telling herself for years now. She was not evil, even if the beckoning death swelling inside her begged differently.
The commander’s heavy-booted foot struck her side, and the sharp pain of the blow knocked the breath out of her.
“You’re lying,” he snarled before kicking her again.
She coughed, the pain blurring reason as she struggled to find an answer. She had never considered the power she held to be a gift. It was a shameful secret. ‘Death magic’, someone had just called it, and they were right. But what would the commander—and the king, for that matter—do now that they knew what she could do?
Commander Eton kicked her again, and her ribs ached with the force. But even as he hit her again, fear and shame kept her mouth sealed shut.
Finally, he stopped, sighing harshly. He leaned down next to her and lifted her face with calloused fingers. She flinched at his touch.
“Who else knows about this?” he murmured, his voice unnervingly soft in the face of all the violence he had just inflicted.
She shook her head and rasped, “No one…alive.”
“Because you killed them?”
Lowering her chin, she said in a low voice, “No. Because you did. Although, I’m no pup anymore, am I, Commander Eton?”
His expression clouded momentarily, but she saw the shift the moment he remembered. A cruel smile spread slowly across his face, twisting his features.
“Ah, how could I forget?” He brushed a strand of her hair back, and she stiffened. “I do remember thinking it strange, a Misean bitch with hair like the moon. I brushed it off at the time as some defect of birth.”
She remained silent, staring at him, hate burning in her chest, tempting her to unlock the cage within her. But even now, she tamped it down.
He sighed heavily through his nose then grabbed her roughly, hauling her up as he stood. She fought his grip, but he held her firm.
“You know,” he said, nose to nose with her, his breath clouding the chilled air. “Your family could have saved themselves if they’d sold you out. We might have given them their lives at least in exchange for the knowledge of what you are.”
“And what am I?” she dared, holding his gaze.
He smiled slowly again. “A weapon.”
Her mind emptied for a few seconds, catching up with the meaning behind his words. When it did, terror flooded her at the realization of what he wanted.
“Don’t worry. I won’t kill you,” he said, finally releasing her.
She stumbled back, and he chuckled, shaking his head.
“King Johannas will not be pleased his newest pet is Misean, but beggars can’t be choosers in a world so dry of this kind of power.”
“There are others?”
Commander Eton snorted. “Hardly.”
“Who—”
“You will never be cleared to know that kind of information.But if you agree to help us, I’ll elevate your rank and speed up your training.”
A shiver raced down her spine. There was a price to be paid here.
“What else?” she pushed, her breath coming in thin gasps as she shivered.
