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“Good.”
“Good?”
“Yes. You just need to get angry again.”
“I’ve already tried that,” I answered. “It didn’t work.”
“Well, you’re in the depths of the dungeons of Rewyth,” Esther replied. “Perhaps it will be different this time.”
Yeah, right.
“Just try it,” Malachi barked, still standing near the entrance.
“Fine,” I mumbled. I closed my eyes and focused on anger.
The one emotion I had felt too much of lately.
Anger.
My father came to mind first, naturally. I did feel angry. I felt angry about the way he treated me.
But not angry enough.
Why was Ireallyangry? Was it the things my father yelled at me? All of those nasty words?
He had called me trash. He had called me selfish and stupid. Did those things make me angry enough to call my power forward?
I didn’t think so.
What else did he say? What else was he yelling at me in the dining hall?
The fae. He talked about the fae, about how they would never keep me safe.
That they would kill me the first chance they got.
My heart rate sped up.
He talked about how Malachi would never protect me.
I clenched my fists.
I didn’t outright defend the fae. I wasn’t one of them.
But…I had partially defended them, hadn’t I? By not hating them, I was defending them.
In Fearford I defended them to the humans. In Trithen I defended them to the other fae.
Because they were…they were my family when my family was nothing.
A bead of sweat formed at the nape of my neck, even in the chill of the dungeons.
Is that what made me angry? The fact that I had fought so hard to defend these fae and my father just ran in here and slandered them all?
After all they had done for me?
My mind flipped.
After all they had done to me…
