My life isn’t truly worth much. I live among the dying. My entire existence revolves around waiting for people to lose their lives.
I’d give it away willingly if it meant saving a few. I’m not being a martyr. I’m being logical.
“Stop acting like you’re considering this, Vi.” Carver’s fingertips skim against the inside of my wrist. The hurt in his voice pulls at my attention.
It sounds painful. It sounds lost. It sounds like he needs me more than I need myself.
He’d be fine without me though.
We both know the pain of loss only lasts a little while.
It must come as a shock to my father when I go against the mold of how he raised me.
He raised me to be weak despite the power within me. He pushed me to doubt myself. He groomed me into this person who did what she was told and swallowed down the anger deep within her.
But I’m not that confused little girl anymore. My thoughts may be a little lost, but I know my life holds value. And my body holds strength.
It’s time he learned that.
My blade swings up from my side. I grip it with both hands as I slam it through his stomach. With too much power, I lift him from the ground before throwing him down to the floor at my feet. Thick, dark blood coats the length of my blade. It slides against the weapon and trickles across my knuckles.
It was much easier than I thought it was going to be.
Too easy, actually.
The king’s dark brows rise high, and with a careful touch, his fingertips pat at the wound in his abdomen. Slick crimson stains his palm, and he stares at it with an eerie smile tilting his lips.
“That was very unexpected, Violence. I thought I had raised you to respect your elders, especially your king.Especially your father.” His words hold cold confidence. Not even a hint of weakness from a dying man is in his tone.
He brushes his hand over his fatal wound once more, and the smell of burning magic tinges the air. A deep breath meets his lungs as his eyes close slowly. He treasures that breath for a moment. Then, with strong movements, he stands. He stands before me, meeting my narrowed gaze.
“I am an aging man, Violence. But it’ll take a bit more than that to kill a man who’s had a look into the Book of Severed Souls.” His gaze shifts to Cameron. “Isn’t that right, Miss Crows?”
My spine stiffens as I look to Cameron. Her gaze never meets mine. She holds her attention on my father.
She knew that book had the power to do this, to make someone immortal, and she didn’t bother mentioning it?
My father’s hand grips my wrist tightly, stinging pain into my bones.
“Come with me, Violence. I know you and I are capable of great things.” His tone creeps across my flesh.
I pull away from him, but he jerks me back to his side.
He wants to use me. He wants to use me for whatever it is he’s learned from the Book of Severed Souls.
If I go with him, I can learn what it is he intends to do. I could infiltrate his plans. It could benefit me, really.
If he doesn’t kill me first, that is.
“I’m going to ask Your Majesty very politely to release yourfuckinghold on her.” Magic flares with lethal power within Nollix’s gaze. Black eyes shine from his handsome features. His jaw tightens as he tips his chin up a little higher.
A smirk pulls at the king’s lips.
“When I came to you boys years ago, I specifically remember you saying you wouldn’t risk your lives to save an inexperienced Huntress. You said something like her life would never be worth risking yours. You made no promises to keep her safe.” He tilts his head at Nollix. “A change of heart? Did you grow fond of her? Do you... do you love her?” Once more, my father jerks me closer to him, and magic roars to life within my veins.
He wants to hear it. He wants confirmation that no one loves me, just as I told him no one loved him.
But I won’t give him the satisfaction.
