Page 76 of She Who Holds My Wrath

“What happened?” a tall guard demands, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him forwards. “What the fuck happened?”

“She… she just came strutting down the corridor with his head in her hand,” he rushes out, words tumbling over each other. “Covered in blood. She told us to move, but Gruff wouldn’t listen. He charged at her—” he swallows hard. “And she turned him into a pile of ash.”

For a second, everything inside me goes quiet. The heat floods my chest so fast it almost knocks the breath from me. I can’t fight the grin that splits across my face, probably looking a little unhinged. That’s my fucking girl. Pride coils through me, cutting clean through the pain and exhaustion. She did it. She got out alive. And she’s making sure everyone fucking knows it.

“So how the hell are you alive?” an older guard with pale grey hair demands.

“She told me she didn’t want to kill me,” the young guard says quickly. “Told me to just drop my weapon and move aside. So I did, and she went into the throne room.”

I watch out the corner of my eye as murmurs break out. They’re starting to realise this isn’t a joke. The old guy raises his voice, addressing the room. “Gather your weapons men. We have a whore to kill.”

I laugh loudly, stopping them in their tracks.

“What’s so funny, shadow man?” a buff guard asks, striding over with that same misplaced confidence I’ve seen a hundred times before. He grips my face, fingers digging into my jaw like he thinks he’s in control. Cute.

I wink at him. My voice drops, cold enough to bite as I let my grin turn maniacal. “You’re not going to fucking touch her.”

Before he can even process my words, my shadows explode outwards. They don’t creep. They don’t crawl. They detonate from me in a violent surge, swallowing the whole room in an instant. Light vanishes, plunging the entire room into absolute darkness. Screams erupt, but they’re quickly silenced as my power tears through every living person, except one. When the shadows recede, slithering back into place around my feet for the first time in days, the young guard is the only one left standing, surrounded by bodies strewn across the floor.

He’s frozen where he stands with his eyes blown wide. A dark patch spreads down his trousers as piss trickles freely down his legs, a faint cloud of steam curling upwards into the air. The scent of his urine mingles with his fear, creating an intoxicating concoction.

“You’re going to take me to her,” I say in a calm voice. “Do that, and you live.”

“Why does this keep happening to me?” He whimpers, but he nods in agreement.

I call my shadows, letting them crawl up my body like a second skin, sliding over my shoulders, down my arms, and wrapping around the chains binding me. They tighten, then snap them clean apart as though they’re paper.

I roll my neck and my shoulders. Everything cracks as my limbs finally loosen. A low groan rumbles in my throat from the deliciousness of it. “Fuuuuuuck, that feels good.”

I reach down and rip a thick fur cape from one of corpses that litters the floor, the fabric still slightly warm from his body. Throwing it around my shoulders, I let the heat sink into my slowly healing skin, revelling in the glorious warmth.

Strolling towards the shaking guard, I pat him on the shoulder in a way I think is reassuring—though he flinches—and gesture to the door. “Come on Tiny, let’s go.”

We wind through the palace, my shadows trailing like smoke around my feet. Gods, it feels good to let them be free again. I swear I can feel them purring in happiness about it, too. Never, ever again, will I let someone take them away from me.

“It… uh, it’s in there, sir,” Tiny whispers, pointing a shaking finger to a set of large doors at the end of the hallway.

I pat him on the back, maybe a little firmer than necessary. “Cheers, kid.” My shadows climb his body, immobilising him instantly. “Sorry about this, truly. But you’re kind of a loose cannon and nearly got my girl killed.”

His eyes widen in panic, breath hitching as the shadows tighten. “No, no please! I didn’t attack her,” he cries out.

“No, you didn’t,” I drawl, tilting my head slightly as I watch him struggle. “But, you did run to a room full of guards so they could do it for you, like a little bitch.”

I don’t let him reply, to try and beg or save himself. My shadows snap his neck quickly. Poor bastard. He probably wouldn’t have been much of a threat. But he already ran his mouth once, and I wasn’t going to let him do it again. It was merciful, in my own sick kind of way.

I roll my shoulders, working out the last of the stiffness, and stride to the doors. The air here feels different, like it’s charged with something heavy. Without an ounce of hesitation, I swing them wide open. The sound is harsh in the quiet space, but it barely registers. Because my eyes instantly land on her. The magnificent creature. There she is, on top of the dais, mounting Kaelith’s head onto the spike of his own throne. The motion is slow and deliberate. A statement carved in blood and bone.

I lean against the frame, crossing one ankle over the other like I’ve just entered a casual conversation instead of a massacre. A slow smile pulls at my lips as she glances over her shoulder to see who’s entered the room.

“Hey there, princess,” I murmur, throwing her a wink.

She’s a fucking mess. Violet, red, and cerulean blood coat her, streaked across her skin and soaked into her clothes. Some of it even stains her golden hair. She looks exhausted, yet utterly feral. Alive in a way only a queen of Hell could be. Power clings to her, even now, even battered and drained. It hums in the air around her. Korithax would be so fucking proud of her.

“Maelkar,” she breathes, a small wobble to her voice that tells me she is on the verge of breaking.

I subtly shake my head, giving her a silent warning to hold it together a little longer. I can see it in her eyes, the fracture threatening to split wide open. But I can’t let her break in front of these people. Not now. Not after what she’s done. She’s sent a message. A damn loud one at that. She can fall apart at home, and I’ll hold her tight and piece all of her back together.

Gods, I’m so fucking proud of her for surviving this. The Daisy I once knew wouldn’t have even been able to take a life, never mind stand there covered in blood with a decapitated head on a spike. Yet here she is, in all her glory. She’s terrifying and magnificent. And I’ve never been more certain of what I’m about to do.