I feel a pinch in my chest when my Divine pushes against the blockade that keeps it in check. The danger circling me makes my Divine crawl to the front and demand I release my leash over it. But for the first time in a decade, I’m not sure I’m mentally strong enough to use my Divine without losing control.
Unlike the rest of the population, I’m unlucky enough to have an overactive Divine with its own sense and demands. If my grip over my powers slips, it won’t be Nevaeh defending herself but my Divine aching for revenge.
The only way to stop that is to shut it down completely. Knowing I can’t reach my potential without ripping myself apart, I lock my Divine into the back of my mind and decide to depend on my skills to get by.
I barely manage to hold myself back when I have complete control over my Divine, I can’t even imagine what would happen if I let my powers run wild when I’m not the one holding the reins.
In between crushing skulls with my bare hands and actively pushing my Divine back, I lose sight of the people I came here with until I hear Hazel shouts from somewhere behind me. “Nevaeh, watch your six!”My what?
A powerful kick to my back forces me to widen my stance to stop from stumbling to the ground face-first. Before the warlock has the opportunity, I turn on my feet and with a swift kick to his stomach, force him on his knees before twisting his neck, ending his miserable life for good.
“More coming from the south. Seiji is rounding everyone here, so stay on my three o’clock, sweetheart.”
I’m going to regret spacing out in meetings, aren’t I? Why are they suddenly talking in numbers and time? I don’t remember numbers and codes coming up in our planning sessions.
I’ve never been this disoriented before. The constant attacks are exhausting, coupled with the horrible stench clouding my brain. Not to forget the sudden change in strategy that is starting to make me dizzy.
“Stop screaming numbers at me. I’m not understanding shit, Angel!”
“They’re directions, baby, not numbers—you know what, we’ll discuss that later,” he shouts from my far right. Did he forget I can hear him just fine without him screaming? The loud voices and constant screams are too much. I can’t stand it for another second.
How is it possible that after a decade with these monsters, I forgot the chaos and anxiety it brings me to be around them? The first sign of safety, and I get so wrapped up in comfort thatI forget how to access my fight response, acting like a teenager learning the ropes of combat.
Grabbing the warlock creeping up behind me by his neck, I throw him to the ground and stomp on his skull repeatedly to release my anger until I hear bones crunching beneath me. I feel better for less than three seconds before a chilling pain in my spine blinds me, and I drop to my knees.
Abruptly grabbing the ankle of my attacker—a warlock too busy reciting spells and enjoying how he brought me to my knees, I pull with all my strength causing him to fall backwards and hit his head on the concrete, effectively knocking him out.
A warlock sprints to me, and I shake my head and dodge when he tries to kick me. Grabbing his ankle when it’s right next to my face, I twist it at an unnatural angle.
The warlock slumps forward in pain, his head touching my shoulder as his pained screech echoes in my ear. Cupping his head, I twist, and his body falls with a thud among the dozens lying around me.
“There’s too many!” I hear Hazel bellow from somewhere, but her voice is muffled in my head. My hands haven’t stopped pulling out decaying hearts and crushing skulls, but I’m losing myself. “I have a plan. Just be ready!”
I think Anxo says something, probably another useless command I don’t understand in my current state. Even if my head wasn’t fogged with a blind rage that demands me to soak in blood to fade away, I don’t assume I would’ve understood another fucking code.
I’m beyond pissed at this point. My rage is not limited to my past and fighting the feeling of helplessness that’s eating at me being around my tormentors, but at my friends too. Weneverdiscussed any of this.
The unclear instructions have pushed me off my balance. I’ve never taken this much damage in a fight before. I’m bleedingfrom multiple places There are fucking thorns sticking out from my arms and thighs, and because I’ve healed over them, now they’re tearing me from the inside with every movement.
It’s been a fucking shitshow from the moment we exited those gates. Anxo asked me to follow his lead, andI tried. I tried my best, but my efforts have been utterly useless, not to forget severely damaging to my body.
I’m frustrated and angry, but most of all, I’m disappointed in myself. I thought I was finally settling in with the group, but tonight has been a harsh reality check.
My spine crawls with disgust, feeling familiar eyes on me. The rush of panic that rolls off me in waves screams at me to turn around and hide. The familiarity of the gaze makes my skin itch, and I clench my trembling fists to hide my fear.
Frantically searching the tall bushes and dark trees surrounding me, I wait for my Divine to settle down so I can convince myself I’m hallucinating. That I’m not seeinghermangled face peaking from behind a thick trunk. That Visha isn’t smirking at me with lips half burned off because of a particularly dark spell.
Swallowing with my heart in my throat, I flinch back, but before I can do anything else, I’m pushed back by a thundering blast.
Anxo’s invisible shield over us eats up the roar of the explosion, but the strong vibrations make me lose my footing and twist my ankle, trying to stay up.
I shift my upper half just in time to save my face from the blow of fire, but it catches on to the side of my dress. Anxiously patting down the fire with trembling hands, I forget about the thorn the size of a lemon stuck on my shoulder and hiss when a hand grips me over it.
Anxo drops his hand and steps back like I burned him. His hands hover over me as he tries to find a place to touch, but hishands remain in the air, eyes tracing every bleeding spot and cut on me.
Stomping on my fear, I quickly glimpse where Visha was hiding—or where I was imagining her because no matter hard I squint, there’s no trace of her ever being there.
“You didn’t duck?! Why didn’t you duck? You could’ve seriously injured yourself, Nevaeh.” Anxo cups my face with one hand while his other moves all over me. He looks genuinely concerned, but I don’t trust myself enough not to release my frustration on him.
