Broken #2
The largest of my fiery tendrils of darkness lashed out at the guard nearest me, wrapping him around the middle and squeezing. Burning. And eventually splitting him in two, each half falling to the ground with a smoking thud and the smell of burned flesh.
Interesting.
“Gods!” I heard the queen gasp.
This…power, it felt good. Like a heady, drunken rush of lust and satisfaction. I let the feeling consume me, fill the empty void with desire and vengeance.
Two smaller tendrils reached for the next closest fae—the prince and the ambassador.
I heard their cries of shock as the tendrils found each of them, grasping their wrists and pulling them closer to me.
The fear in their eyes just incited me further, and I could smell it.
Just like Zareth had said he could smell mine.
That particular recollection made me relish his scream when the darkness surrounding his wrist burned straight through muscle and bone and separated the hand from his arm. He dropped to his knees, screaming, cradling the charred stump as his severed hand hit the floor.
I wanted to take my time with him and the prince, to punish them and bask in their screams.
“What the hell are you?!” Varyn’s voice cracked, wide eyes trained on mine.
I had his full attention now. And he was oh so terrified.
Good.
Before I could sever his hand, too, a cold metal cuff closed around my wrist, immediately quieting the beast inside and evaporating the darkness that had spread from my body.
I collapsed to the floor.
A shrieking crow squawked.
Then I remembered nothing else for days.
* * *
When I woke, I felt as if my brain were enveloped in a thick fog. My limbs were made of lead, sleep crusting the corners of my eyes. I remembered pieces of horrible dreams—there had been fire and screaming and dark powers.
Sitting up on the cold floor of my too-familiar cell, I shook my head to rid myself of these chilling dreams, sending a throb through my skull.
Except, what wasn’t familiar were the metal cuffs attached to both wrists. They didn’t usually cuff me in my cell. As I stared at them, the unease in my stomach built.
I tried to reach out to Noxie in my mind, but he didn’t answer. That wasn’t like him. He was always in my head, even when I didn’t want him to be.
Surely that thought should have earned me a sarcastic response.
But I remembered today was my Nella day, and all I’d have to do was get through this ball I’d been training for all week, and I’d see her, and nothing else mattered except that. The king had kept his word thus far, so I knew she’d be here.
Something nagged at the corners of my mind as if I were forgetting something, but I guessed it was nerves over the dances I had to remember.
Except I was already in a ball gown. That was odd. How…
When I turned my hands over, I found one palm caked with dried blood.
And then it all hit me at once—they weren’t dreams. This was my reality.
Nella was dead, murdered by the king.
The queen and Varyn stood by while it happened.
I was still in the dress I’d knelt in when she took her final breath.
And I…gods, what had I become?
Fear, panic, and crippling grief all chased each other around in my heart. My strange, beast of a heart that I was terrified of after seeing it finally come to life, after feeling its rage build for months. Years maybe.
The image of Nella, pale and still, in a pool of blood on the ballroom floor seared itself into my eyes and refused to leave. In her image, the confusion of the beast that came from me paled in comparison.
Nothing mattered in a world without Nella.
I screamed, and it scorched my already raw throat, as if my voice could reach her in the afterlife.
I thrashed against the bars of the cell as if I could rip them apart to get to her body, even though I wasn’t sure where it was.
I pounded the stone walls until my hands were bloody, as if I could break my way through these walls and...
And exist in a cruel and meaningless life.
I fell into a heap in the middle of the darkened cell and sobbed, yelling to the gods and Caelia at the cruelty, at how unfair it was that I lived and she did not. What wicked twist of fate took my innocent, sweet, and beautiful little lamb and left me—flawed, hateful, and scarred—alive?
I cursed the gods. Over and over again, I cursed them, one by one, all by name.
Except Rathion, god of war. To him I prayed. Prayed for the opportunity to escape this hell and bring the wrath of an entire army to the cruel king’s doorstep.
The tears didn’t stop for a long time. Until I felt like my body would shrivel up from the loss. And even then, I sobbed without tears.
I rocked back and forth with my knees hugged to my chest, staring at my mother’s bones, arms wrapped tight around me to keep from unraveling physically the way my mind was. I was coming apart, and without Nella, I couldn’t find a way to stay together.
I had denied; I had raged; I had cried. But I could not accept.
Caedryn. Varyn. Dumb and Round. Cassius. Aemilia. Purple-eyed blacksmith. Naci.
I added myself to my kill list because, once they were all dead, I would no longer have a purpose. My will to live left with Nella. My purpose now only remained to end those who ripped my life apart.
And ended hers.
After that, there was nothing left. And maybe I could find her in the afterlife, after I’ve avenged her death, if I were welcomed there.
But not a moment sooner, no matter how bad it hurt to stay in this realm alone.
I couldn’t look her in the eyes in Vale while her murderer still walked the land of the living.
So I wallowed in despair, but I lived.
* * *
Some days, despair consumed me, and I wouldn’t eat or sleep.
I would just stare at the wall, seeing nothing but her face, consumed by pain that physically hurt my chest. Other days, the anger won, and I raged to the point of self-harm.
Those were the days I wished the beast in my sleeping heart would awaken and bring hell to Caelia.
Twice, I had to stop myself from biting a hole in the veins at my wrist, the temptation to join Nella overwhelming. I had to remind myself that her killer was still alive, and I had to be too, so long as he was.
The thing in my heart had been terrifying and powerful that night, but where was it now?
And where was Noxie? I still hadn’t been able to reach him.
After long enough—I didn’t have any concept of time—I accepted that he, too, must have perished in that ballroom.
So I mourned him, too, sometimes, but mostly Nella.
Rage.
Grief.
Rage.
Grief.
Time passed in this cycle over and over for what felt like a lifetime. Maybe two.
* * *
I woke to the first person I’d seen since…the ballroom. Round rattled the bars of my cell to announce the queen’s arrival.
I rolled over on the floor and turned my back to her approach, legs curled up to my chest. I had nothing to say and no desire to hear.