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Kill them. Kill them all.

I groaned, eyes closing. That damn thought wouldn’t leave my head. My anger must have still been simmering close to the surface, making my magic hunger for blood.

After a few more breaths, I continued trekking through the forest, determined to find a way out.

“You’re a witch, damn it,” I whispered to myself. “Find a solution.”

I raised a shaky hand and curled my fingers together. My eyes closed, and I tried to take a steady breath. But it shook so much that even my bones seemed to rattle. My skin felt too warm, and sweat formed on my brow.

Focus, I thought. Focus.

My fear and panic coiled around me like a serpent, but I tried to push them away.

No matter how afraid I was, if I couldn’t conjure, I would be even worse off.

I concentrated on the magic that flowed beneath my skin, ready to be conjured. Surely, I could summon a flare of light to shoot into the sky. Gran would see it. She would sense my magic and come looking for me.

“Come on,” I growled. “You can do this.” Frustration bubbled within me, and I clung to it; it thawed the chill of my terror and uncertainty.

Agitation. Anger. Rage.

The volatile emotions roared through me like molten lava.

Kill them! the voice within me screamed. Kill them all!

My hand started to glow gold. It was so stark and brilliant that my eyelids squeezed shut from the intensity of it.

But the white-hot fury coursing through me would not be stopped. Now that I had opened the floodgates, I had no control over it.

Kill. Avenge. Destroy. Murder them all. Spill their blood.

I shook my head, but the red crept into my vision, blocking out all else. My hand burned as if I had stuck it directly into a raging fire.

I sank to my knees, trembling all over, but not from the cold. My body was burning up, sweat running in rivulets down my back and between my breasts. I was so feverish. So ill.

I couldn’t fight it anymore. I was too weak.

Tears ran down my cheeks. My breathing was heavy and ragged. I couldn’t get enough air in my lungs.

The gold light burned brighter, stinging my eyes. It seemed like the entire forest was illuminated from the force of my magic.

“By the gods,” I whispered weakly.

Was this what happened when I didn’t drink my tonic? Were the effects so immediate?

Was my own magic about to overpower me? Kill me? I was so damned weak that I couldn’t even fight off my own power.

“Gran, help me,” I groaned, the flames inside me overwhelming me.

Dark energy split from my chest and exploded in the air, enveloping me in white light. That same harsh voice echoed around me, tingling in my ears and in my skull.

Kill, kill, kill.

They will all be destroyed.

The voice was stronger than my willpower. I fought against it helplessly, but it was no use. What feeble control I still had slowly seeped away from me.

I could do nothing as the darkness pulled me under.