As I approach a street full of small farms, I spot a short man with a generous girth standing near a pen with pigs. He holds a long stick and beats one of the larger pigs with it every time it comes near the feeding trough.
Dust kicks into the air as I come to a halt and glare at the man. “Stop it!”
He freezes and sneers at me. “Be gone.” As if challenging me, he wallops the pig, sending it screeching.
“I most certainly will not.” Frustration grips me as I toss my braid behind my shoulder. “Stop beating on a helpless animal.”
The man raises his stick. “I said be gone!”
Anger flares in Everly’s eyes. “Do you know who she is?”
“I don’t care if she’s a queen. The pigs belong to me, and I’ll treat them how I please.” The man lurches toward me with his stick raised.
One of my guards steps in his path, blocking him. “Threaten her again,” he says, his words lined with edges of steel, “and I’ll break your stick in half and shove it in your eye.”
I smile at the guard with hazel eyes and brown hair.
Unfazed by my guard’s threat, the man turns back to his pen and smacks a smaller pig. It squeals and runs away.
My nails dig into the palms of my hands as I tighten my fists. Tighter and tighter, I clench my fingers until the darkness reaches up and blinds me. “Curse you, you coward. May you be a pig, so you know how it feels.”
Pain sears through my serpent mark and rips up my palm as the flesh evaporates from the large pig. The man’s body blisters, bubbles, and shifts into loose flesh. His muscles tighten and tear under his skin, twisting him into a screeching pig.
Everly’s mouth falls open as I stumble back a step.
No. This cannot be happening again.
The man-pig runs around in frantic circles as my guards exchange a quick look.
I hurry from the darkness, the man-pig, and my inability to control my temper.
Everly runs after me. “Sol, slow down.”
I keep going, needing to escape.
By the time I reach my bedchamber, my hair hangs around my face, and sweat beads my forehead.
I burst through the door and right into Hector’s arms.
He grabs me as I let out a ragged breath.
“Let me go.”
He doesn’t listen as he holds me tighter and looks behind me. “What happened, Everly?”
Worry glints in her eyes as she stares at me. “She cursed Timo, and now he’s a pig.”
Needing space to think, to breathe, I place my palms against Hector’s chest and shove. He drops his hands, and I flee to the washroom. I slam the door shut and lean against the wall.
This cannot be happening. The curse. The darkness. I obliterated the pig I was trying to save when I cursed Timo.
I raise my right hand and freeze at the black on the tips of my fingers.
“No!”
In quick, jerky movements, I scrub my hand against my surcoat. The black remains. Horror strangles me as I rub again and again, but it doesn’t fade. My heart races as I lift my left hand. It doesn’t bear the same affliction.
Frustration flares through me as I ball my fingers into a fist and slam it into my palm. Timo deserved what he got. If I could do it again, I would.
