“Have you come to let me play with you again, princess?” he asked. “I will never forget the way you screamed when I pressed the hot poker into your flesh. The way you sobbed as I pulled out your finger nails. How you cried for mercy. How you begged for death.” He leaned in, hardly an inch from her face. “I can smell your fear even now.”
And then she was back there. Back on that table in the tent, screaming as The Scourge stabbed her in the side while Andras and Deidamia watched. Clawing at his arm, she tried to free herself, so frantic she’d forgotten to use her magic, as if his words threw her into helplessness. The edges of her vision blurred as his calloused fingers tightened, leaving her gasping for air.
“I have enjoyed the last few weeks of torturing your soulbond. The screams that tore out of him as I sliced his flesh just like I sliced yours were pure joy to my ears. And now that we have both of you, Deidamia and Andras are going to make him watch as we drain your blood to open the portals.”
The mention of Casimir’s torture brought her back. He was right there. Hurt, and terrified, and trapped, yanking on the chains as he watched with terror while Vazgeth had her pinned.
Ava’s rage was a living, breathing thing inside of her. Coiled and primed to attack. She screamed, the warmth of her magic soaring in her soul. Hot and outraged and fierce. Itburned, aching to be released again, longing to be freed.
And yearning for vengeance.
She allowed it. Opened that gate wide and let the monster out as she unleashed everything she had.
Vines as large as her thigh burst from the ground with such force the entire cave trembled, dust and debris raining down from above. They wrapped around Vazgeth, yanking him off her and holding him in the air. He yelled and struggled, trying to cut them off but they were too thick and covered in razor-sharp thorns. Black blood dripped down his body as they pierced his skin. His dagger fell to the stone floor with a clatter.
Fury passed over his face as he growled at Ava. She stepped forward with barely contained rage at her former abuser. The one who had burned her and cut her at Deidamia’s instructions. Who had poured acid into her wounds and laughed when she screamed as he sliced her flesh.
The one who had done similar things to her love. Her soulbond.
And now he would pay.
The vines twisted around Vazgeth’s legs and torso, tightening their grip, and pulled. He screamed and begged but with the jerk of Ava’s head he was ripped in two, the loud crunch ofhis spine reverberating in the cave. The vines retracted and The Scourge’s severed body fell to the dirt floor with a sickening smack.
Ava swayed on her feet, the use of her magic taking its toll, but she pushed away her fatigue and stumbled to Casimir, gripping his face. The sight of him nearly tore her to pieces.
There was no smirk, no twinkle in his eye as he teased her, no grumpy murmurs when she teased him back. He was hardly there. A shell of himself.
“Princess,” he whispered, barely hanging on to consciousness.
“I’m here. It’s okay, I’m here.” She kissed his lips tenderly, afraid of hurting him.
“You…came…”
Ava blinked back tears. “I will always come for you. Always.” She pecked his lips again. “Hold tight. I need to get you out of these chains.”
She willed vines to snake through the space between his wrists and the metal of the cuffs, snapping them with ease. He cried out as she barely caught him before he fell to the ground.
“Luna, I need help. He’s heavy. I don’t know if I can move him by himself.”
They’re caught up in fighting. You need to hurry. It’s time to leave. The daemons are getting organized now.
Though Ava was much stronger in her fae body, she still couldn’t carry Casimir alone. “You must try to walk. Lean on me. We’re almost out of here.”
He groaned and took one step after another, his arm around her shoulders while she braced him against her, an arm around his waist. Ava couldn’t help but stare at the mess her magic had left behind. Black blood sprayed the floor, a painting of Vazgeth’s demise. Vines, flowers and mushrooms sprouted everywhere: on the ceiling, the walls, in between every nookand cranny. As if a garden had exploded in the rocky prison, a reminder of the princess’ retribution.
They reached the entrance of the cave and a familiar voice whispered in the forest.
“Miss Ava. Princess! Over here!”
Two figures approached from the trees. Tension left her at the sight of the giant orc. Pax would be able to help carry Casimir with ease. The other figure scurried forward, a hobgoblin about the height of a child.
Remy.
“What are you doing here?” Ava whispered harshly. “It’s not safe, Remy. You shouldn’t be here.”
“I came to help. Yes yes yes. I heard the general was captured. I want to help the one who saved my life.” He looked at her with conviction in his wide eyes.
“It’s time to meet the others,” Pax said as he came around the other side of Casimir, holding him up.
