Chapter 42
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
When forty minutes have passed and Ferver still hasn’t shown up, I’m ready to burn the entire house down.
The Osteria family watches me with worried eyes as I pace back and forth across their kitchen.
Whatever they were cooking is now likely inedible since the fire in the stove when out twenty minutes ago, so the scent of food and herbs has now been replaced by the sharp tang of fear.
The front door is yanked open. Whirling around, I snap my gaze to the open doorway that connects the kitchen and the hallway while hope and anticipation pulse through me.
“The Icehearts just left,” Alistair calls as the front door thuds closed behind him.
Disappointment and worry tear at my chest. Both at the fact that it was only Alistair, rather than Ferver, who walked through the door and at the news he brought. He rounds the corner and walks into the kitchen.
“I just saw the two of them fly away from the Ice Palace,” he says.
I curse under my breath.
“There is still time,” he adds, his voice low enough that only I can hear. “As long as he arrives within the next ten minutes, we’re fine.”
If he arrives, my mind corrects silently.
He has to arrive. Goddess fucking damn it, he has to.
Because I will not lose Draven again. If the Icehearts and the Silver Clan try to take Draven from me again, I swear by every god and goddess and every demon in hell that I will burn this entire world down until there is nothing left but ash.
With great effort, I manage to nod in response to Alistair’s statement.
But I immediately begin pacing again. Stress and worry rip through my soul like vicious beasts.
Flexing my hands, I stalk back and forth across the floor while I increase and decrease the Osteria family’s fear just to pass the time.
They whimper and cower down, and then suck in deep breaths, over and over again as I toy with their fear levels. They deserve it. Goddess damn it, this entire fucking clan deserves to suffer after everything they have put me through. They—
The front door is pulled open.
“I’m back!” a man’s voice calls while hurried footsteps move towards the kitchen. “Sorry I’m late. The meeting ran long.”
Snapping out of my anxiousness, I yank out the dagger from my thigh holster and quickly move so that I’m standing behind Ferver’s mother.
She whimpers in fear as I place the knife across her throat.
Alistair moves so that he is standing by the wall right inside the doorway.
That way, he can move up behind Ferver once he steps inside.
“I hope you didn’t…” Ferver continues as he rounds the corner and enters the now messy kitchen. Trailing off, he staggers to a halt a couple of steps inside and stares at the scene before him with wide eyes.
I get a sudden overwhelming urge to slit his mother’s throat, just so that he can feel what I felt when Jessina killed my mother. But we still need Ferver to do what we want, which means that we need all the hostages alive, so I manage to ignore the sudden murderous urge.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” I begin, my voice coming out shockingly hard and cold.
“You’re going to run up to the Silver Clan barracks and tell every soldier you come across that your scouts have seen four different clans flying in to attack Frostfell at the same time.
You’re going to tell them that the Icehearts have been alerted and are on their way back, and that every available soldier needs to shift and fly out across the plains in all directions to defend the city. ”
For a few seconds, he just stares at me in shock and utter incredulity. Then anger crackles across his face, and he reaches for the sword at his hip.
A wall of fire roars up behind him. He gasps and whirls around while staggering away from it. On the other side of the flames, Alistair flashes him a cruel smile.
“If you disobey even one single part of those orders,” I continue. “We will burn down this house with your entire family in it.”
His parents and sister let out terrified whimpers where they remain on their knees before me.
Ferver whirls back around to face me. Fear battles the anger on his face. I run out of patience.
Releasing the grip on the magic I have flowing into his family, I summon a bone white flame of fear out of nothing and slam it into Ferver’s chest.
He sucks in an unsteady breath, and his knees almost buckle. Throwing out a hand, he has to brace himself on the back of a chair to keep himself upright.
“Alright, I’ll do it!” he blurts out, his green eyes wide and desperate.
Pleasure thrums inside me, both from creating an emotion out of nothing and also from the sheer satisfaction of finally being the one in control. The one with all the power.
“Good.” I stare him down from where I’m still standing with my knife to his mother’s throat. “If you deviate even slightly from your orders, or if you tell anyone about this, you will come home to a burnt-out house with three charred skeletons inside. Understood?”
With every word out of my mouth, I increase his fear even more. His face is ashen as he nods desperately.
Satisfied, I lower his fear back down again as much as possible so that he will be able to carry out his orders.
Leaving the rest of the flame that I still can’t remove, I force myself to cut off the flow of my magic.
Coldness rushes in to replace the sparkling warmth.
The sharp contrast just makes the anger and fury inside me even stronger.
Across the room, Alistair lets his fire magic fade out as well. I jerk my chin at Ferver.
After casting a fearful glance at his family, he pries his fingers off the back of the chair and staggers towards the door. Alistair slides his gaze to him. Ferver flinches, but when no more flames appear, he quickly hurries out into the hallway and then back out the front door to do our bidding.
“Alright, let’s get them into that closet in the hallway,” Alistair says.
It takes enormous effort to force my knife away from Mama Osteria’s throat.
I fucking hate this family. This happy, loving family that has a future together even after all of this is over.
That roaring rage and hatred inside me is screaming at me to kill them all so that Ferver will return and see it and then be forced to live with the same pain that I am constantly battling.
My fingers grip the hilt hard as I force my knife back into its sheath while Alistair crosses the room and grabs Papa Osteria by the arm.
Even though I’m no longer manipulating his fear, he doesn’t resist when Alistair yanks him up from the floor and starts hauling him across the room.
I pry my fingers off the hilt of my knife and then jerk my chin at Ferver’s mother and sister.
“Get up,” I order.
With their hands still tied behind their backs, they struggle to their feet.
“Let’s go,” I say, and jerk my chin towards the doorway.
Mama Osteria looks at me with wide and terrified eyes, but Ferver’s sister glares at me now that I’m no longer manipulating her fear.
Anger flickers in her green eyes, and she tosses her long blond hair back over her shoulder with a jerky motion.
But she and her mother still walk willingly across the kitchen and through the hallway to the small room filled with cleaning supplies.
Alistair is already there with his prisoner, who has now gotten down on his knees inside the closet, while Alistair remains in the hallway outside.
“Get in and get down on your knees,” I tell my two prisoners.
The mother quickly hurries inside and does what she is told while keeping her gaze on the floor.
The sister, however, stares daggers at me as she does the same.
I just stand there in the doorway, watching her get down on her knees between her parents, while more fury roars up inside me.
Why is she glaring at me like that? I am the one who is angry.
I am the one who has been wronged. They deserve everything they’re getting.
“We should just kill them all,” I say, not taking my eyes off the glaring sister.
Her parents whimper, but she just clenches her jaw.
Next to me, Alistair raises an eyebrow in silent question.
“If we let them live, they will just ruin everything.” Rage and hatred churn inside me as I flex my hand in an effort to block out the memories of my own parents, which are trying to flash before my eyes.
“It’s what they do. This entire fucking Silver Clan.
All they ever do is destroy everything around them. ”
“We destroy things?” the sister suddenly snarls. “You’re the one who—”
I shove my magic towards the tiny spark of pain in her chest. She has been kneeling on a stone floor for the past forty minutes, so I knew that she would at least be feeling a little pain. Latching on to that violet spark, I increase it in a rapid burst.
She screams in pain.
Her parents whip their heads around to stare at her in shock and panic before turning desperate eyes on me. They don’t know exactly what I’m doing, but they can see my eyes glowing, so they know that I’m doing something.
“Please, stop!” Papa Osteria yells at me.
I increase the strength of my magic again. Even though there is no pleasure this time, since I didn’t create the pain from nothing, satisfaction still courses through me as I watch the blond dragon shifter bow forward and scream in pain again.
“Why are you doing this?” her mother cries.
I keep the pain steady, making my victim gasp and bow forward until she is pressing her forehead against the floor. “Because you killed my parents.”
Jerking upright, the sister suddenly locks furious green eyes on me. Her blond ponytail swishes through the air from the sharp movement and slaps against her back. Anger crackles across her whole face, pushing out the pain for a moment.
“I haven’t killed anyone!” she growls.