Page 70 of She Who Holds My Wrath

“It would appear some of your people want you dead as much as I do.” I arch a brow, my pulse hammering but expression steady.

His mouth twists. “Selunea. I always knew she was a worthless slut.” He waves a dismissive hand, as if sentencing someone to death is nothing more than a minor inconvenience. “No matter. I’ll make sure I bury her next to you.”

Before I can react, his body dissolves into a swirl of mist threaded with pinpricks of starlight like a night sky torn apart. The temperature drops sharply. A cold breeze brushing my neck is the only warning I have, raising every hair along my skin. He solidifies behind me, arm snapping around my throat with brutal force. My airway crushes shut as his forearm digs into my windpipe, his grip iron-hard.

“Don’t worry,” he breathes against my ear. “I’ll make this quick.”

He knocks the dagger from my hand in one quick motion, causing it to skitter across the floor. My heart sinks. He squeezes harder, attempting to snap my neck in the crook of his arm. Panic claws at me, the oxygen depleting from my body as I feel the pain around my throat from his punishing hold. I thrash like a wild animal, tears blurring my vision as the shame of failing everyone takes over.

“Breathe little flower.” Korithax’s voice breaks through the panic, warm and low. Calm washes over me, envisioning him here, cheering me on. “Let the flame consume your skin. Let it become a part of you.”

Panic claws at me, despite his words. My lungs scream, my vision tunnelling into grey at the edges as my body fights for oxygen that won’t come. Every instinct tells me to thrash, to claw, to fight blindly—the same animal terror from before, from Ethan, and from every moment I’ve been powerless. But I’m not powerless. And I won’t be. Not again.

I focus inwards, dragging my mind away from the arm around my throat, away from the roaring in my ears. I anchor myself to his voice instead, to the way it used to sound when he believed in me more than I believed in myself.

Focus. Focus. Focus.

I reach for that well of power in my belly—that deep, molten core that has always been there even when I pretended it wasn’t. It answers sluggishly at first, smothered by fear and pain. I push harder, teeth gritted, nails digging into my own skin as if I can claw the magic free. It stirs. A low hum vibrates my bones, faint but real. Heat unfurls inside me, slow and dangerous. And I seize it, drag it upwards like hauling a brutal tide against gravity, guiding it through my veins into my skin, over every inch of me he’s touching.

Let it be mine. Let it protect me. Flame pours outwards, coating me in searing white heat that feels less like fire and more like becoming something else entirely.

Kaelith’s scream rattles my ears as he jerks back. Air slams into my lungs in ragged, painful gulps. I collapse forwards onto my hands and knees, coughing and choking, dragging in breath after breath that tastes like smoke and frost and freedom. My head spins violently, spots dancing across my vision, but I cling to the stone flooring as I steady myself.

“Thank you, Korithax,” I whisper silently, the words trembling through my mind as if he might somehow hear them across whatever void separates us.

“You fucking cunt!” Kaelith snarls, charging towards me, fury shredding whatever composure he had left.

I stay on all fours, chest heaving, letting my body sag as if the last of my strength burned out with the flame. My arms tremble convincingly—not entirely fake—while my fingers inch, millimetre by millimetre, towards the dagger lying just out of reach.

His boots slam against the stone, each step echoing through the chamber like thunder, closer, closer, until the vibrations travel straight through the floor into my palms. I watch the light shift as his shadow stretches over me, swallowing the aurora glow. Any second now, he’ll grab me.

Instead, his boot crashes into my ribs. White-hot agony detonates through my side, sharp enough to steal every thought from my head. The impact sends me skidding across the floor, air blasting from my already pained lungs in a helpless, broken gasp. I roll onto my back, clutching at my side as my vision fractures into sparks. The dagger slips from my fingers as I roll, spinning away with a metallic scape until it clinks against the wall near the passageway.

“Fuck,” I cough, the word tearing out of me along with a mouthful of copper. Blood slicks my tongue, thick and metallic. “That was a shitty move,” I rasp, forcing the words through the pain. “Even for you, Duskwalker.”

I wheeze, gripping onto my ribs as I try sitting up. The pain is almost too much to bear, the searing agony of a definite broken rib has my eyes watering. I know damn well it’s broken, because it feels like the time Ezra and Talia caught me wrong from a basket toss. The scream that came out of me then, echoed throughout the entire gym. But I’m not going to give Kaelith the satisfaction of hearing me scream.

I manage to push myself up onto my elbows, ribs protesting violently, before I’m slammed back down to the floor with a boot on my chest. The back of my skull cracks against the stone with a dull, hollow thud, stars bursting across my vision. A sharp hiss escapes me before I can stop it.

Kaelith looms above me, breath fogging in the cold air, his eyes blazing with hatred. “I should’ve ended you and your husband all those months ago. You’re a pathetic, worthless thing who doesn’t deserve the throne you sit on.”

Warm spittle hits my cheek as he spits, the droplet sliding slowly against my skin. Revulsion coils in my gut, stronger than the pain for a split second. Fucking gross.

My thoughts scramble, searching for anything. Any angle, any opening. I land on the endless drills Maelkar forced me through. Over and over again. Hours of being pinned, restrained, overpowered. He used to laugh when I struggled, telling me I ‘squirmed like a bug.’ I hated him for it then. Right now, I could kiss him.

I force myself to still, to look past the blur of agony and really see. One foot planted on my chest. The other braced on the floor. His stance is wide, weight forwards, balance committed. Perfect. I move before he can register the shift. Every muscle screams as I swing, driving my knee upwards with everything I have left in me. My leg connects hard, straight into his groin.

The sound he makes is not dignified. Just a strangled, shocked grunt as his body folds in on itself. He collapses forwards, landing in a straddling position over me, head dropping, breath wheezing out in broken bursts. I don’t waste any time as I lurch forwards, head butting him hard in the nose. A satisfying crack sounds, followed by violet blood that pours down his lips and chin as he yells out in pain. The force of the attack has him toppling backwards, and I use the moment to buck him off. I quickly roll away, ignoring the excruciating pain in my ribs as I scramble for the dagger.

A hand clamps around my ankle, yanking me to a violent stop. “No, you fucking don’t!” Kaelith growls.

I twist onto my side and fling a burst of white flame at him on instinct. Heat scorches the air between us, forcing him to lurch sideways to avoid it, giving me just enough of an opening. I scurry forwards, nails scraping the stone as I reach. The cool kiss of metal brushes my fingertips and relief surges, sharp and desperate⁠—

Then fingers knot brutally in the back of my hair. Pain tears through my scalp as he wrenches me backwards, dragging me across the floor. “You fight like a girl!” I scream in fury as the stone grinds against my skin.

He barks a laugh. “And you fight like a bitch.”

The word tilts as he hauls me up like I weigh nothing at all. For a split second I’m suspended, and then he throws me. I hit the bed hard, breath jolting from my lungs, the mattress swallowing the impact but not the shock. I call for my power, but nothing responds. What the fuck?