It must’ve worked. Her mother must’ve done everything right, because Briar was so far away now, she couldn’t remember what it had felt like to exist. What a nonsensical notion. All emotions that had made her into who she was disintegrated piece by piece. Fear, pride, hope, hatred, love… Unraveled, stitch by stitch, thread by thread. The last one was longing. For someone she thought she’d miss. A name. What was it?
Seraphina.
One day, maybe Sera would join her. Far, far away…
Chapter Twenty-Six
The one time she allowed someone his last words, and he refused the honor.
“I will kill them all.”
Seraphina rose to her feet. Snow and mud sloshed under her boots. A twig snapped. She had Idris’s knife, her eyes, and her tongue. She could feel the apex relic vibrate underneath her skin. The power that spread through her limbs was eager, scorching. It gathered at the base of her throat, waiting to be spoken.
Willa jumped in front of her, hands raised.
“No, you should run!”
Seraphina locked eyes with her.
“You. Find Peter and Hans. Take them away.”
Willa froze for a moment, not understanding what was happening. Her inner fight only lasted a few seconds, then she turned on her heel and launched herself into the chaos, looking for the father and son.
“Seraphina, wait!” Idris ran after her.
She didn’t stop.
“You don’t mean that,” he said, panting. “You won’t…”
“Kill them all?” she chuckled, unhinged.
“You won’t, won’t you?”
She fixed him with her blue gaze, grinned, placed a hand on his chest and gently pushed him away.
“Stay back, please. I don’t want to worry about you.”
He opened his mouth to say something, but she’d turned away, increasing her pace. The first rebel to cut into her path was ordered to fight the wolves with his bare hands. So was the next, and the next, until Seraphina made all the rebels who met her gaze and heard her voice walk to certain death. At first, the beasts ignored them and merely growled and pushed them away, which meant they knew who the enemy was. But after the menand women in Seraphina’s thrall attacked them relentlessly, the wolves turned on them. Michael started shouting at the beasts. They were feral and annoyed. His commands were disregarded.
Not a bone that manipulated animals, then. Seraphina tucked that information away. The leader of the rebels probably had a lesser relic that allowed him to speak to animals but not control them. She didn’t know if her own thrall relic worked on beasts, and she didn’t have time to find out.
“You. Bring Michael to me.”
Not that she believed one person could do that, so she gave the order to five more. Every rebel who approached her was disarmed, held at arm’s length, and enthralled. She moved with grace, slicing left and right, not allowing anyone to get close enough to draw blood. When they were too many, she commanded them to attack each other. She made her way to the center of the battlefield, where she saw Rune, a few heads taller than everyone else, daggers lodged into his chest and back, staring at the ground. She couldn’t see what he was looking at.
Michael fought his own people, six of them, and when he couldn’t convince them to back off, he shouted at Rune.
“Free me!”
Rune didn’t react at once.
The rebels brought their leader closer to where Seraphina was. He shouted again, and Rune turned his head and saw her. Even as he held her gaze, he didn’t come to her. He grabbed two of the people swarming Michael and threw them on the ground.
Seraphina knew her window was closing. She started running, slammed into a bunch of people who tried to stop her, and when she was a few feet away from Michael, she shouted:
“You!”
He didn’t hear her in the commotion. She noticed the nuns had started to retreat. The wolves had left them alone, and the rebels were fighting amongst each other.
