Devastation replaced my rage, helplessness returning and settling deep in my bones.
Morgana must have seen it on my face as she rolled her eyes at me. She released her grip on my soul, my will, and took a step back, my blade slashing down and embedding into the earth. Loose dirt flew into the air, hitting me in the face and I angrily whipped it away.
“I don’t know why you are upset, dear. You and Atticus have been together for years. I thought you would be happy about this?”
“Why would I be happy with someone having the ability to rape me?”
I clutched the hilt of my blade harder, readying to attack again.
Morgana frowned. “Do you really think I'm that cruel? Did his command not break the moment he tried something untoward?”
Heat bloomed across my skin, my cheeks. She had seen, seen exactly what happened.
“Why?”
It was a loaded question and she knew it.
“Someone needs to keep an eye on you. I can’t always be watching. You’ve gone soft since this bond formed, I canfeelit.” Morgana spat the word as if it had personally offended her. “I need to make sure my orders are followed. And who better than your lover?”
Hatred burned a hole in my chest, and that thing inside it coiled tightly, the pressure making me gasp and clutch my chest. Morgana was staring intently at me, but I could say nothing back, as if the ability was taken from me. My body once again froze.
“You really mustn’t make this harder for yourself, dear. It’s much easier when you agree with these sorts of things.”
Morgana stalked forward, her hand picking up a lock of my hair and twirling it between her fingers. “I’ll reconsider Atticus when this whole ordeal with your mate is through. Maybe then you will be more amenable.” She dropped the strands of my hair and stroked the back of her fingers against my cheek.
I wanted to flinch away, to scream, but she wouldn’t let me.
Morgana turned away from me, laughing, and my eyes focused on the village behind her.
Moss covered homes and cobbled roads became noticeable and the more I stared, I realized where she had taken me.
Morgana glanced over her shoulder and snorted. “I take it you recognize where we are now?”
The restraint she held on my vocal cords loosened and I barked, “What are we doing here Morgana?”
“We are here to send a message, Zara.”
Morgana looked at the village, a smile on her lips, as if it were all a game. She'd smiled at me like that, too, as if I were the same. And wasn't I? A toy. Something to be played with. Used. To entertain her boredom, to carry out her bidding without question. A slave… and worse, I have let her.
Morgana reveled in the suffering of others. It was intoxicating to her. And for the first time, I felt a raw, unforgiving guilt tear through me for bringing her here. For being responsible for plunging this peaceful kingdom into suffering. A place where stars still burned brightly in the sky, and villages echoed with children's laughter instead of their hungry cries.
She was going to destroy it all. Twist it into a mirror of Velra.
“No,” I ground out, flashing my fangs.
Her gaze shot to mine, a sneer coating her lips. “I don’t know why you think you have a choice.” She turned back to face me, her cloak fluttering around her legs. Her will crashed over me, her command ripping through my mind. I grit my teeth and fought it, fought harder than I ever had before.
Pain exploded through my temples and I felt vessels pop as the command pounded into my mind like a hammer. The pressure in my chest increased, stealing my breath and I gasped as my magic tried to rise. I held it back, and Morgana’s icy glare bore into me.
Destroy this village.
No.
Destroy it!
I said NO!
That thing in my chest exploded, and something oily leeched into my veins. It traveled until it consumed me, and I was shoved backward. Not my body, butme.
