Page 173 of Spring Guardians & Songbirds

He jolted up and smacked me fiercely across my face, his ring scrapped and drew blood from my lip. The metallic taste of blood felt electric, I could fry this radish in a fraction of a second. However, he had just given me a brilliant idea. A better plan.

He sat back, my blood coating his fingers. “Till the end a feral mare, just like your mother,”

My jaw locked. “Oh, Reuben, you are stepping on very pungent shit right now.”

“Let me not remind you of the remaining dead breed of yours. Don’t worry, you will join them when I have had the rest of my fun with you.” He stood to retrieve a clear bottle of a red potion. “Where has he sent my mother?” he demanded.

“To her rat hole?” He struck me again. This one I had to give to him, it really stung. I spat blood at his feet. But I needed it to sting more. “Mommy left you without a tit to suck on? Aw, who’s powdering your arse now?”

“You will answer me,” he threatened, striking me again.

“Or what?” I pushed, grinning. Come one, hit me harder. “Will you run to daddy dearest or hit me again, hm?” A terrible satisfied laugh left my throat—he was so very dead.

His nose flared, an angry red cringe twitched and patched in his horrendous yellow face as he twisted the cap of the bottle open, pouring half the liquid to my arm. The moment the red potion touched the skin of my arm, screams of pain erupted from my throat. The liquid stuck to my skin, crawling all over and under my clothes, scorching my flesh with a branding burn.

I trembled, beads of sweat covered my body and my skin shivered from the pain that dug almost bone deep. I calmed my stuttering breaths, releasing a thin layer of chill above my skin, but it didn’t subdue the pain—not the slightest. The potion was magic. Crafter magic.

Reuben laughed as he took a seat again. “Liquid fire. Dark Crafters really know their evil,” he boasted, shaking the bottle with the rest of the red fluid. “This is how they burnt, right? Siblings should share everything, even pain. Feel how your rotted breed burnt, taste the feel of it before you taste the bite of my steel, you whore.”

“Reuben, Reuben,” I muttered breathless, shaking my head, “You are in for a treat, dear. Better clutch that crown tight, who knows I might bring Eren back just for the sake of it, and I am not speaking from the dead.”

His face fell just a little, but enough to recognise that fear. The fear of knowledge. The half breed knew. “Your brother is dead. Has the pain reached that far up your head?”

“Is he though?”

He faltered. “What game are you playing?”

“My favourite game of taunt or truth. It seems you’re hiding something.”

Another wave of anger flared in him as he stood, unbottling the cap of the liquid fire.

I rolled my eyes up at him, a wicked smile spreading wide as electricity floated about the room and he took a startled step back.

The door of the storage room burst open. Quickly, I shifted my magic shut as Demir and Elias broke inside the room, wide eyed and gasping for air. They assessed the room, the blood on my face and the burn marks on my hand and arm, their expression growing livid before they unsheathed both their swords towards Reuben who in Reuben fashion charged in a run before being plunged down by a very inhumanly agile Demir.

Elias quickly came to my aid, untying me. “What did he do to you, Snow, why did you let this happen?” he murmured, examining the burns.

Soldiers broke about in the room, seizing Rueben as the young general kneeled in front of me wiping the bloodied mess away, tucking my sweat matted hair behind my ear.

Reuben stood, shaking and furiously pulling between the two soldiers that were holding him. His face had reddened, veins had made their ways to the surface as he shook like a rabid animal. “I will have your blood one day, Snowlin!”

I let out a loud wicked laugh and strode up to him. Knocking my forehead right in his face and enjoying the sight of blood splattering his face. “Say that again, Reuben, it sounded real profound.”

His rage broke him free and he charged towards me again, but Demir moved quickly, nailing a punch in his fragile face that had probably never even felt the pain of a slap before. Reuben landed with a thud on the wooden floor.

Ouch.

“No honour among the wicked, ey?” I teased, as the young general turned wearing a pinched frustrated expression towards me.

“No, not when he has painted your beautiful face like that.”

Elias’s brows hiked to his hairline at that statement. He nailed his piercing gaze on me and whispered only for me to hear, “I thought you were smarter than to fall for this, was I wrong?”

No, he was not wrong, but he was very right at the same time. Great ideas are born amidst very compromising situations, and I was going to enjoy the unravelling of this plentifully. “Did I?” I asked, leaning back in the chair. “Fall for this?”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Thought so.”

“You found me quicker than I had thought, how did you do it?”