Chapter 41

Not a Good Day

Sinta

“You weren’t going to tell us.” Fade accuses.

“I didn’t think I needed to.” I insist. “I took care of it, Tomashi intervened. It’s done, there is nothing to do.”

“Sinta.” Elijah sighs.

Rubbing at my aching forehead, I remind myself they are just worried and that I shouldn’t snap at them.

“She’s going to be a problem from now on. Imelda needs to know, too. Touching a member of a fellow Princess’s court is tantamount to declaring war.” Fade sighs.

“I’m part of Imelda’s court?”

“Yes. She doesn’t hang out with people she hasn’t claimed. The minute she agreed to tutor you, you became one of hers.” Elijah explains. “Rapid is going to lose his shit when he finds out.”

“How did you find out?” I demand.

“If the Princesses have courts, what makes you think we don’t too? Ours just happen to be more like gangs than actual courts.”

“Of course you do.” Checking the time on my phone, I grimace and pick up my coat, downing the remainder of my juice. “I have to go; I’m going to be late. Don’t tell Rapid until tonight?”

“Someone else will have told him long before we see him.” Fade states.

My eyes roll so hard I swear I can see my brain.

“Okay, bye. I’ll see you both later.” Rounding the counter and placing my glass in the sink, I smack a kiss to both of their lips.

“Stay out of trouble.” Fade orders.

“And tell Imelda about Grande, if she doesn’t already know.” Elijah adds.

“I will.” I call over my shoulder and head to class.

Trotting up the stairs into the main building, I halt when the students around me start yelling and calling out Imelda’s name.

Spinning, I follow the pointing and picture flashes upwards.

I go slack, my chest stalling.

Two beautiful, fierce, unbelievable dragons are soaring over the island.

One, a brilliant sapphire blue with proud horns and gem-like scales.

The other a fire-engine red, her wings claw-tipped and her tail armed with a pronged blade.

They were breath-taking and magnificent.

As people snapped photos and chatted excitedly around me, all I could think was; ‘soon’.

Soon, that will be me. I’ll be right there alongside them, defying gravity, and flying free.

I watched them until they disappeared beyond the clocktower. Marvelled at the elegant, effortless way they played about the wind. The strong strokes of their wings.

The molten cloud of smoke Yelana bellows – eliciting gasps and shouts from the crowd.

It was a moment I’ll never forget.

Fitness class was horrible.

I spent half of it feeling like I was going to vomit and overheated to the point both Yelana and Imelda was sure I had a fever.

And the rest of it fending off Grande and her mindless lackies.

My symptoms were getting worse, to the point that functioning was becoming unbearable.

I was glad for the quiet reprieve of Art class.

Everyone was so focused on beginning their end-of-year evaluation pieces that the room was silent with only the occasional murmur.

It helped with my throbbing head and gave me time to look through yet another art book for inspiration.

“Still haven’t chosen, Sinta?” Miss Ume questions.

“No. It’s harder than I thought it would be.” I sigh. “So many styles and centuries are calling to me.”

She nods, tucking her hands into the pockets of her signature overalls. “Well, you have until the end of term to choose a focus piece and complete your image board. That is over two weeks.” Examining the book I was reading, noting that it was mostly medieval art, she adds, “Might I suggest doing a virtual visit of a museum, or perhaps perusing the school’s art gallery? We have quite the collection of ancient art – including tapestries and such. It may inspire you.”

“I will definitely consider that. Thank you.”

She nods, turning to walk away, then hesitates. “Oh, Sinta, you have a little…” She gestures to beneath her nose.

My hand immediately rising to touch my upper lip, it comes back wet with blood.

“Crap.” I mutter.

Imelda reaches over with a wad of paper towel from her art supplies, pressing it beneath my nose until I take over from her.

“Are you okay?” She questions, eyes wide.

I nod, leaning forward and tipping my head back, wadding the towel up against my nostrils. “Yes. It’s just a nosebleed.”

“Are you sure?” Yelana pushes.

“Yes. It’s probably a result of the headache.” I assure them.

They return to their pieces after swapping a hesitant look, obviously not believing me.

I didn’t blame them. I’d been feeling so off all morning, but after calling Mr O and describing my symptoms he’d assured us it was still the middle-ground of what I was meant to go through and there was no reason to be worried yet.

They watch me like I might crack for the rest of the class, and continue to do so even after we’ve arrived in the cafeteria and I’m sitting with Kenya and Natalie.

“Are you okay? You really don’t look good.” Kenya worries.

She has no idea what is really going on with me, and yet even she thinks I look like shit.

“Yes, I’m okay. Just a little bit off today, is all.” I sigh, eating some more of my chocolate muffin.

“You look like you’re about to drop dead from exhaustion.” Natalie deadpans, her lips pressed tight. “We have combat next, I think you should go see the healers – Fuck. Off.”

Following the aim of her glare, I turn.

Two of Grande’s minions stand behind me, sneering.

One of them is holding a carton of milk.

Flashbacks of high school hit me one after the other, but I manage to shove it aside and let loose a growl.

Their sneering faulters.

“Gold digging whore.” One of them snaps.

Then they flounce away.

“I’m fine.” I continue as I turn back to my friends. “I promise. Just a little tired, is all.”

They both stare at me like they know I’m full of shit.

Kenya reaches out to rub my arm, her eyes soft. She frowns after a moment, slowly pulling away.

“Are you okay?” I question, taking in her suddenly serious expression.

She stares at me, lips tight. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Clearing her throat, face returning to normal, she tries for a smile. “Are you sure about the healer?”

“Yes.” I huff.

She just nods and hooks into her food, looking distracted.

Grumbling beneath my breath, I focus on the muffin and try to block out the noise and drama of the cafeteria.

I swear it was never quiet in here; something was always happening.

“Um, Sinta?”

“I’m fine.” I groan.

“No, that.” Kenya says and points over my shoulder.

Turning, I jolt when someone enters my personal space and plants a kiss on my cheek.

“Hey, Devil Eyes.” Rapid greets and takes the seat next to me.

“What the hell….” I mutter.

One, he’s actually dressed in nice jeans and a long-sleeved white henley. Two, he never eats in the cafeteria.

Everyone turns to stare, gasps echoing in the space.

The guys made it a point of not eating in here. They said it drew too much attention, and that they all liked their privacy.

“Rapid?” I question, staring at him along with everyone else.

“Can’t I come see my girl?” He teases, but there is a hard glint in his eye.

He looked like he was out to make a point.

“You heard about yesterday.” I sigh.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He counters.

“Because I didn’t think it mattered. I dealt with her, Tomashi dealt with her.” I grumble, pushing away my food.

My appetite was officially gone.

Especially with all the females now glaring at me like they were plotting my vicious, painful murder.

“I should know when some uppity bitch attacks my girlfriend and threatens to have her killed.” He grits out between clenched teeth.

“You can’t do anything, and you know it. Please, just leave it. I promise to tell you if she tries something again.” I offer, mostly because I want to reassure him but also because I want this conversation to end.

“She better not try again.” He growls and tucks an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his warm body.

I melt into him.

My own body heat seemed to be absent today.

My dragon had gone back to a slumbering coma patient. She hadn’t stirred for anything, not even when Grande tried to start trouble in Fitness class this morning.

“Rapid, can you convince her to go to the healer and get an exemption from Combat? She looks like she is about to drop.” Kenya pleads.

Immediately studying me with a critical eye, I make an exasperated sound and try to pull back, but he holds me to him.

“Devil Eyes, you really do look bad. You should skip combat.” He tells me – the same damn thing everyone else has been saying.

“No. I. Am. Fine.” I intone, beyond frustrated.

“But you aren’t. You’ll be no good fighting in this condition – do you really want to put yourself in danger like that?”

“Rapid.” I groan.

The rational side of my brain knew he was right. But I wasn’t being rational right now.

“Tell me the truth; how bad do you feel? How does she feel?” He prods, his features firm. “You shouldn’t be putting yourself in unnecessary stress and danger – remember what Mr O said?”

I look away and play with the leftovers of my muffin.

“I will call the guys, Sinta.” He warns.

Glancing around, cringing at the attention and whispers just having him here was causing, my stubborn streak wilts.

“It’s just a headache, I promise. I’m not even having any muscle aches or anything today.” I whisper, mindful of Natalie and Kenya. “I just feel like I have a migraine, is all. It’s no big deal.”

“You’re going back to Rising House.” He decides and stands, gently tugging me up with him.

“Rapid—”

“Rapid! Baby.” Grande croons, appearing beside us.

She wedges herself between us and breaks Rapid’s hold on my arm, shoving me away from him.

I snarl at her.

“Not now, Grande.” Rapid snaps, reaching around her for me.

She grabs the arm and curls it around her, crushing herself against his chest. “You know, I’m having a party on Friday. You should come, we could have a little fun. Revive our relationship.”

It takes everything in me not to grab the skanks hair and rip her off of him, and the look I toss upstairs to a seething Imelda and Yelana must say that. They immediately begin to make their way down.

“Get off, Grande. I’m not interested.” Rapid growls.

He pushes her back and tries to disengage her claws from his arm, but she’s holding him so hard her long nails are close to drawing blood.

“That’s not what you said at my party at the start of term. We had so much fun in the hot tub, remember?” She coos.

My gaze snaps to Rapid, remembering the morning he was hungover and practically lying on the counter under his blanket.

“I was blind fucking drunk and would have made out with anyone – don’t go thinking you’re special.” He snarls and finally shakes her off, his eyes steady on mine.

Ducking her grabby hands and reaching my side, he curls himself against me and tucks my head beneath his chin.

I can’t tell if he’s doing it to make a point or because he wants to comfort me, but either way I feel better for it.

“Don’t tell me you’re involved with that.” She scoffs. “Fade wouldn’t know any better – having high rank doesn’t make you royalty – but you, baby, were raised better than that.”

“Insulting my girlfriend only makes you look like a cheap nasty bitch.” He snaps.

Everyone rears back with the force of that verbal hit. I think we all collectively held our breath as Yelana and Imelda finally reach us.

Face turning volcanic red, her hands shaking, Grande turns her ire-filled gaze on me. “Girlfriend? You would seriously choose this trash over me? A Princess?!”

“Being a Princess doesn’t make you a good person. Or a desirable one.” Imelda intervenes, her face hard. “This is the third time you have harassed one of mine, Grande. How hard is it to keep your nose out of my business? Shall I ask Yelana to cut it off?!”

She scoffs. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me, Grande Salvatore. You have overstepped once too many.” Imelda intones.

“What is so special about this whore, hm? I see nothing worth wasting a single drop of your power on.” She spits.

“And yet you have done so and ordered her death.” Imelda growls. “I forgave you once, I will not do so again. Walk away.”

“Or what? You’ll whip me with your sharp tongue?” Grande cackles. “You have never been a Princess of action, and I could demand the head of your precious Yelana if she dares lay a finger upon me.”

Yelana snarls a deep feral sound, her eyes flashing yellowish-gold.

“Back away, Grande. As a Prince of House Iron and Wind, I demand you back away and forsake any action against my claimed female, or risk initiating a war of our courts.” Rapid announces, his strong voice ringing through the room.

I don’t know what that means, Imelda hadn’t gotten very far in our Fae culture lessons, but it must be important.

Shocked breaths and surprised exclamations ring out, some people even scattering back.

Every Fae in the room mirrors a look of shock.

But after a long, tense moment, they collectively bow their heads.

Like they are acknowledging an order.

It was so easy to forget Rapid was a prince. He acted nothing like one.

It was painfully obvious now.

Watching the reactions of others, I thought perhaps this would make Grande back off, which was likely Rapids intention.

But if possible, she grows even angrier – incensed beyond reason.

“We are Elite, we are Royalty!” She screams. “How dare you invoke an order of power for this,” She thrusts a finger towards me. “Piece of nothing that I could squash beneath my heel! How dare you give me orders!”

“That order is backed by my authority as Princess of House Fire and Gold. Sinta Cora is, and has been, under the protection of my court. You were warned, Grande. Do not act a fool.”

“You spit in the face of everything we stand for with this abomination.” She scoffs. “I will not have it stand.”

“You refuse to acknowledge the status of protection given over Sinta?” Imelda demands, her back snapping straight, her posture turning regal, her words formal.

“I will see this bitch dead for daring to think she can wriggle her way into the Elite.” Grande seethes. “If you are stupid enough to protect her, then I say the shame be only on your head.”

Imelda nods. “Very well.”

Smoothly stepping forward, Imelda hunches forth and bellows a stream of blue-gold flame.

Unprepared, screaming in shock and pain, Grande goes flying across the cafeteria and slams into a wall, the ancient brick denting around her.

Eyes wide, I turn to stare at Imelda.

She just breathed fire.

In her human form.

“Hear me now. Sinta is mine, of my court, and under my protection. Harm her at your own peril.” She growls, her luminescent sapphire eyes slitted with her dragon’s pupil. “This is a vow upon my honour and authority. I will not be disobeyed again.”

“You will not only face the wrath of Princess Imelda, but the fury of my Kraken. Sinta is officially off limits.” Rapid backs her, his face set with a seriousness I didn’t think he was capable of.

Head pounding, my neck starting to ache from the pressure, I clutch Rapid’s waist and shift to bury my head in his shoulder.

“What does this mean?” I whisper to him.

“It means we will kill anyone that threatens you from now on. No mercy.” Smoothing a large hand over my hair, he kisses my forehead. “We should have done it from the beginning.”

“Yes, we should have.” Imelda intones.

She’s watching Grande when I turn my head, her gaze still draconic.

The other princess is struggling to rise from the floor, her designer clothes singed and tattered, the stone wall above her dented.

I thought her posse would be rushing to help her, but they’re watching her from the balcony above with this strange look.

Like predators circling an injured beast, waiting to see if they can eat it or if it will recover.

They’re not like the guys, or Yelana and Imelda. Grande surrounded herself with people that will show loyalty until it no longer suits them.

I struggle not to feel bad for her when no one rushes to help, reminding myself she wants me dead.

“Come on, you’re going back to the House.” Rapid shushes me when I go to argue. “No, you are shaking, and your skin feels cold. You need to rest.”

“Go, Sinta. I will call Mr O and have you excused.” Imelda orders.

She hasn’t looked at me, her gaze still focused on Grande, but Yelana gives me a reassuring smile from her side and nods for me to go.

“Call me later?” I ask as Rapid begins to lead me away.

“Yes. Rest well.” Yelana assures me.

“Come on.” Rapid prods.

Nat and Kenya call a farewell.

Letting him lead me out of the cafeteria, people scrambling to get out of his way, I only glance back once.

Grande is leaning against the wall, clutching her middle.

Staring at me. Her eyes blazing like a thousand nuclear suns.

This wasn’t over.

“Are you okay, baby?” Rapid prods. Again. For the millionth time.

“I’m feeling pretty violent.” I sigh, wrapping a towel around myself.

“Sounds like a good time to me.” He purrs, and I hear the bathroom door open.

“I thought you were going to wait outside?” I groan.

I can’t bring myself to actually be mad – not when I’d never had someone to obsess over my health before.

So I let him come in and lean against the wall, his gaze a physical touch as it roves my skin.

“You’re too tempting, Devil Eyes.” He murmurs, his long fingers playing about his lips.

Snorting, I turn away from him and search in the cabinet drawer for a new hair elastic.

My towel slips, falling.

I manage to catch it and hold it against my breasts, but the back falls open.

Rapid whistles at my bare ass, humming appreciative noises.

“Horn dog.” I accuse.

“Stay like that, Devil Eyes. Just like that.” He demands.

Confused, I glance at him.

He's pulling out his phone, tapping the screen.

“Rapid?”

“I want my photo baby. That okay?”

I chew on my lip, eyeing him.

“Nothing scandalous. I want you to stay just like that, with those gorgeous eyes of yours staring at me.” He purrs, face ravaged with lust. “Can you do that for me baby?”

My body turns into molten liquid. He just fucking does that to me.

I could be on death’s door, and one lusty look from my guys would have my engines revving.

“Just like this?” I question, breathless.

“Arch your back a little for me, Devil Eyes—that’s it. Now give me them dangerous sex-eyes…..” He grins as I comply. “You look like a wet dream, baby. Fuck I want to bend you over that sink.”

The corner of my lips tick up into a smug, feline smile.

He sucks in a breath and snaps the photo.

“Fucking siren.” He accuses, storming over and seizing my neck.

I fall back against the sink, my towel dropping to the floor.

His phone follows, then his pants.

And suddenly we’re moaning and gasping and going at each other like animals.

It didn’t help my headache. But I felt like a sexy goddess with every touch and kiss.

Sadly, when we’re done, he has to return to his classes. So with a kiss to my cheek, a cheeky tap on my ass, and a promise to bring back dinner, he heads out and I’m left feeling drained and hungry.

Checking in with my dragon, she raises a heavy lid in response, the familiar sharp pain of her own hunger setting a rumble off in mine.

“Food it is.” I murmur and begin to slowly make my way downstairs.

Stepping into the kitchen, I go straight to the fridge and open it up to grab my mushrooms.

The container holding the poisonous gift from Elijah sits atop my other fungi pot, the bow still stuck to the lid.

Smiling, I grab it out and head to the bench.

I pull out my personal chopping board – so no one else would get accidentally poisoned – and grab a knife.

Setting the dark purplish-grey mushroom on it, admiring the large umbrella-like head and its fat stem, I take it over to the sink and carefully wash it before transferring the board to the side and cutting the fungi into slices.

It's insides are a light grey and spongey with a strangely fruity smell.

Rumbling a pleased sound, my dragon sluggishly rises in me and opens her maw. Her signature move for food.

Smiling, I pick up a thick slice and savour the first bite.

It tasted good too – kind of like a mix of lime and pepper.

It reminded me a little of Mexican food.

These mushrooms would taste amazing on a taco with guacamole and salsa.

Happy my beast was happy, I turn to grab some bread so I can make a sandwich.

My phone goes off in my pocket.

Pulling it out, thinking one of the guys were checking on me, I open the notification.

Aletha

You couldn’t even text me happy birthday?

First you move out of Paulos Estate, then you just disappear. When did you become so selfish?

Blinking, the text is a kick to the gut.

No word from her. Not one word for an entire month.

And this is what she says.

She didn’t even bother texting me happy birthday. I’d been debating all day whether I wanted to or not.

We’d been born two hours apart – me before midnight on March the 9th, and her after midnight on March the 10th.

Twins, but we had different birthdays.

Twins, but we’d never been close. Not like I’d deluded myself into thinking.

Sinta

They kicked me out, I didn’t choose to leave.

And you didn’t say happy birthday either.

Setting the phone on the counter a little harder than necessary, I blow out a breath.

Something moves near the patio doors.

“Penelope?” I exclaim, tensing.

She gives me a tentative smile, stepping further into the house. “Hi, Sinta.”

“What are you doing here?” I question, looking to the sliding glass door she’d come through. “How did you even get in?”

I was sure that door had been locked, and the house was warded.

“Magic is a wonderful thing.” She murmurs, watching me with wide guileless eyes that were just a little too innocent. “Don’t you think?”

“I… I wouldn’t know.” I mutter, taking her in.

She’s dressed in expensive clothes just like usual, her hair and makeup flawless, her posture refined.

But there was something…. Off. Something that had my dragon rising, peering at this girl with an avid distrust.

It was like she had this manic energy. Something felt fundamentally off.

Broken.

Tilting her head, blonde ringlets falling over a shoulder, she hums a sound and examines the kitchen with a detached gaze. “Yes, I suppose you wouldn’t. You’re powerless. Weak.”

Her words aren’t aimed to hurt.

She sounds like a robot. Emotionless.

Everything in me is screaming to get out of the kitchen, to get away from her.

My dragon is puffing smoke within me, tense, her eyes wide like a horse sensing danger.

“Penelope, what are you doing here? You have to leave; this isn’t your House.” I tell her, my voice low.

“I can’t leave.” She mutters. “I started watching you weeks ago, you know? I had the perfect plan. Until I realised Aletha didn’t give a shit about you.”

My eyes wide, my chest seizing, it takes a solid minute for her words to penetrate. Then I’m wondering if I should be panicking or preparing for the worst.

“Watching me for what, Penelope?” I question.

Not daring to move and attract her attention, I look to my phone just a few inches from my hand.

“She doesn’t care about you, I realised. She doesn’t even know you are here.” Scoffing, shaking her head, Penelope waves a lazy hand. “I shouldn’t be surprised, that bitch is beyond selfish. But I understand why she doesn’t associate with you – if I were a unicorn with a twin like you, I wouldn’t either.”

“I suppose that makes sense.” I agree, but it’s like she’s not even listening to me now, her gaze turned inward.

She’s lost in her own thoughts, and I don’t know if I should run for it or go for my phone.

I don’t know this girl, I don’t know what she can do. There are too many factors and double the risks.

“That’ll change. I left her a nice little letter telling her about you, and what I’m going to do. I hope it at least makes her feel bad.” Penelope hums. “But she’ll be furious when Grande keeps her promise, and that will make me happy.”

“What promise?” I demand, slowly sliding my hand along the counter for my phone.

Wide manic eyes suddenly focusing on me, the pale blue void of any natural emotion, she smiles softly.

“My father has many children, you know? And my family has been allied with House Earth and Bronze for thousands of years. My mother is High Lady Dalimia’s closest confidante.”

Face tightening, eyes narrowing, Penelope takes a step further into the kitchen.

“But I’m the one that angered the Princess. I’m the one that lost my position. Now our business is going bankrupt. I have to fix it. I need to fix it. I begged her for a chance, and she gave me one. She promised me.”

“Penelope.” I breathe, my fingers brushing the edge of my phone. “Whatever she promised you, it isn’t worth it—”

Screaming in pain, I yank my hand to my chest and stumble back, blood dripping down my arm.

Penelope holds up another blade of ice, twin to the one imbedded in the counter, her features creased with fury. “You don’t get it!” She screams, her sanity gone. “She controls everything. If I don’t fix it, if I don’t kill you for her, my entire family will fall. I have to do this!”

“You don’t.” I cry, backing away. “You could go to Imelda. She can help you—”

“House Fire and Gold can’t help me. The Houses do not interfere in each other’s business.” She sneers. “All I have to do is kill you, and she’ll give me my position back and oust Aletha. She’ll reverse the damage to my father’s business, my mother will be by the High Lady’s side again. All I have to do, is get rid of you.”

“I am under the protection of Princess Imelda and Prince Rapid.” I blurt out, backing away further when she reaches the counter. “Even if you do kill me, they’ll kill you. You won’t get your position; your family will fall anyway.”

“Princess Grande is stronger than them both. She’ll protect me.” She insists, rounding the counter. “Don’t worry, I don’t want to hurt you. It’s not you I’m angry with.”

Backing further away, moving towards the hall behind me, I shake my head at her. “You are trying to kill me, Penelope. Kill me.”

She pauses, nodding. “Yes. But I’ll make it quick. Painless.”

As if that made it all better.

“I wanted to hurt Aletha, but she’s Grande’s new favourite. I can’t touch her. You would understand, if you were powerful. Power is everything.”

“It’s not worth your life.” I refute, my hand screaming in pain, my shirt soaked with my blood.

“No.” She murmurs, raising her hand. “But it is worth yours.”

The ice shard extends into a long jagged spear, sharp and razored, blood from her hand dripping down the blade.

It’s gruesome, and horrifying.

Heart in my throat, panic thumping in my ears, my limbs shaking, I try to plead with her.

“You can stop – you don’t have to do this.” I beg. “It’s Grande, Penelope. Do you really think she will keep her word?”

“She has to. She promised.” She murmurs with a chilling smile. “Stay still, yes?”

No.

Turning, I make a break for the hallway.

I’m not fast enough.

I’m swept up and slammed into a kitchen cupboard.

I scream in pain, crumpling to the floor, but I shove myself away from the spear she thrusts towards my head.

“I said I don’t want to hurt you. Why don’t you get that!” She screams, coming after me as I scramble away from her, back into the kitchen.

I’m tossed again, sent flying over the counter.

My head slams into the marble top, pain splintering across my temple.

I can’t grab hold of anything, dragged along the floor and hurled into every available surface.

I’m scraped and jabbed and slammed into objects. I’m bleeding, writhing in pain, struggling to think.

She hoists me into the air with a deranged laugh and slams me into the ceiling, pinning me there.

“This could have been painless.” She sighs, shaking her head.

“Fuck… you….” I rasp, my head spinning.

Suddenly I’m weightless, and gravity drags me down.

I’m dumped onto the floor before her, the wind knocked out of me.

Coughing, gasping, my lungs refuse to work.

Kicking out weakly, I strike at her legs.

I somehow land a strike just as she takes a step.

She stumbles, falling against the counter.

I flip over onto my feet.

Her spear pierces my thigh with a blinding sting of pain, my leg buckling as I scream, collapsing against the counter beside her.

She tries to land a hit to my face, the punch strong but sloppy.

I block it and twist, elbowing her in the joint of her shoulder.

“Fucking bitch.” She snarls, her hand thrusting into my hair, slamming my head into the counter.

I scream, ripping at her hand, kicking out with a leg.

It’s like all of my training has fled and I’m left scrambling for my life.

Managing to grab hold of her hair, I slam her head against the counter.

Leveraging upwards, I grab her with both hands, frantically slamming it down again.

She’s screaming, cursing, and lets go of my head to thrust a hand into my middle.

Something tears at my skin, ripping into me.

Releasing her to stagger back, I clutch the wound.

Shards of ice cut my palm.

She flies at me, the spear raised, and I don’t know how I manage to dodge her wild hits.

I don’t have time to think. I barely have time to fight back.

Grappling, I catch the spear in both hands, locked in a deadly tug of war as we fight over the weapon, spinning around the kitchen.

“Let go!” She barks, slamming a heel into my calf.

Grunting, I wrench her forward and head butt her.

Yelling a curse, she stumbles back but doesn’t release the spear.

Risking her wrestling it from me, I rear back a fist and slam it into her jaw.

Her head wrenches to the side.

But she doesn’t let go.

Abruptly spinning it, she manages to rip it from my hands.

“Just die!” She roars and thrusts a hand towards me.

Her magic flings me about, tumbling me across the floor only to then drag me back to fall in a heap at her feet.

Surging upwards, I manage to catch her in the stomach with a fist, then dodge the swipe of her spear.

She catches my foot, tripping me, sending me crashing into the sink.

It jostles the wound in my stomach.

I scream my pain, my dragon arching inside me, both of us hurting.

I reach for her, pulling, trying to draw her strength.

But I’m too panicked, I can’t concentrate, and I pull something else.

Something that brings more pain.

Arching, screaming, something cracks in my spine.

Just as Penelope thrusts her spear into my shoulder.

My dragon rears, trying to reach me, her claws shredding my organs.

Sobbing, pinned to the counter, my spine feeling as though it was being ripped apart, I desperately run my hand over the surface.

I’d been cutting mushrooms – where was the knife.

Too far away.

The mushroom.

Head rolling, half mad with the pain, I look for the chopping board.

It's been knocked away, the slices of mushroom scattered, almost too far for me to reach.

Almost.

“This could have been so easy. I hate it when lower borns don’t understand their place.” Penelope seethes, jostling the spear.

I yell, my fingers missing a mushroom slice by inches.

The pain comes again, my spine bulging with each crick and crack, a crippling burn spreading to my arms.

My injured hand burns like it’s on fire, the pain unbearable.

But it’s no longer a hand.

It’s a green scaled four-fingered paw, with long wicked black claws.

I don’t even think about it.

Roaring a battle cry, powering through the pain, I rake those claws down Penelope’s face.

She falls back, screaming, the spear going with her.

Jolting, crying out, I shove myself up.

Lunging down the counter, my injured leg dragging, I scoop up slices of mushroom and turn to meet her.

She’s already flying back towards me, screaming, my claw marks dripping red down her face.

My clawed hand grabs the spear.

Green fire races up my arm.

And it snaps in two.

Holding one half of the weapon, she goes for my stomach.

Roaring a battle cry worthy of a Valkyrie, I side-step the hit and grab her by the throat.

And lift.

She dangles in my grip, spasming.

I shove my free hand over her mouth, forcing her to swallow the Dethsol.

Choking, trying to shake me off, she conjures another wind and slams me into the floor, holding me there.

My limbs pinned, unable to move so much as a finger, I growl and struggle against it.

But the magic is as immovable as concrete.

I couldn’t fight her if I wanted to.

Something’s happening. My dragon is roaring, thrashing, expanding within me. My skin pulls tight with excruciating pain.

Screaming, tensing, my head tossing with the unbearable agony, I writhe on the floor.

Shake with tremors. Seize with wave after wave of pain.

Pressure builds within my skull, pushing outwards, my eyes rolling as if they might burst.

Burning magma floods my insides, smoke billowing from my mouth.

“Fucking pathetic.” Penelope sneers, kicking my stomach.

I heave, curling up, shaking.

Raising a jagged spear shard, triumphant, she beams down at me. “Goodbye, Sinta.”

She thrusts it downwards just as lightning riddles my back, my body jolting sideways, my mouth gaping in a silent scream.

“What—” I hear her choke, the spear falling by my head.

Veins of purple crawl over her jaw, her neck swollen, greyish foam leaking from her mouth.

Collapsing, she seizes at my side, those manic eyes staring into mine – desperate with a familiar plea.

The same thing I begged for.

Mercy.

But it’s too late. She’s dying.

Writhing in agony, both of us suffering, she stops breathing long before I do.

The weight of her magic evaporates.

But I cannot rise.

I writhe and arch and scream for hours or minutes, lain next to a corpse, the pain wrecking my mind.

Everything feels like it’s tearing. Some wild creature is shredding my limbs and dipping them into vats of scorching acid.

I don’t know how long it goes on for. I don’t know how much blood I lose, or what is even happening.

I whimper a pathetic sound, echoed by my dragon, her body twisted and deformed within me.

The last thing I remember is a head of fiery red-bronze curls, and a familiar face.

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