Chapter Sixteen
KYELLA
“Help me,” he croaked as he fell to his knees, swaying harshly back and forth like he might keel over at any moment.
Throwing his hands out in front of him, he fell onto all fours and stayed there for a few moments, alternating between wheezing and sounding like he was trying to clear his throat of a blockage.
This had to be the venom.
I knew I should have killed him the second he showed a moment of weakness, but the truth was I hadn’t made peace with the atrocities he’d committed.
I wanted him to hurt. Offering him a swift death wasn’t an option.
I wanted to bring him so much pain that he begged me to end his life.
I wanted him to know how much a person could hurt all the way down to their soul when they thought that being dead was an act of mercy over staying alive to face their agony.
Striding toward my daggers, I quickly grabbed them before facing him once more, looking for any signs of a ploy to lure me, but found none.
As I stood above him, relishing in his slumped body being at my feet now, I found the hand I’d bitten rotting away like it had fallen victim to a flesh-eating bacteria.
A pungent scent accompanied it as it slowly crawled toward his wrist and forearm, oozing a yellow-green liquid as the healthy skin slowly melted and peeled away.
The wound had to hurt fiercely, but it wasn’t enough to quell the anger battering my soul. Not even a little bit.
I couldn’t see how quickly the venom was eating away at him or if it had spread to any part of his body hidden by his clothes, but it had to have spread viciously through his blood stream, hitting his organs first before the physical decay had set in on his hand.
Without a doubt, it was going to kill him, so I needed to make my peace now.
Pulling my foot back, I slammed it into his stomach hard enough to cause him to collapse completely. His arms gave out beneath him as he curled into a ball on his side. His moans of pain as he clutched his stomach were like music to my ears, and I was just getting started.
“That,” I yelled, “is for my family!”
“This,” I murmured before sheathing a single dagger and crouching bent over at the waist, “is for all of the families you’ve hurt.
” As my hand wound back, I released a feral scream before it cracked against his cheek.
I felt the bones of his face crunching beneath the force of the blow, and my knuckles split with the contact.
The floor cracked beneath where his face lay, a pool of blood dripping from his mouth. The blood of a monarch in their throne room…just like what he’d ensured happened to Myrin.
“This is for Myrin,” I seethed between gritted teeth and tightened my grip on the lone dagger I had out. Crouching down, I saw him forcing a fucking smile to his face as I held the tip of the blade to the side of his throat.
How did he not realize that I was his demise, finally? How could he continue to act like this was a game that he was winning?
My chest heaved and tightened as angry tears began to spill from my eyes. I had planned on cutting through his neck to be done with him, but now he’d renewed the white-hot anger that coiled like an angry snake in my chest.
“I hate you!” I screamed before dropping my second dagger and doling out hit after hit to his face. I fell into a trance, mindlessly smashing my fist into him rhythmically, waiting for the pain I’d been carrying around for so long to be lifted.
There was squelching and the crunch of bones snapping, and flesh being pulverized, but beyond that I couldn’t make out anything. Those sounds were all I was focused on, pushing my thoughts past anything other than ensuring his pain continued.
If guards were to flood the room, coming to rescue this useless waste of space of a man, I would be at their mercy, but I would have at least ensured there was nothing left of him to save.
I wanted the blows to heal something within me. I wanted them to make me feel better, but all it did was enrage me further.
I wanted to be free of this fucking pain. From the memories. From him.
My vision was completely obscured with the tears that stung my eyes, and my breathing grew labored as my sobs overtook me.
Eventually, my fists halted their assault and his face lay mangled beneath them, but I wasn’t done. I couldn’t be done. He hadn’t paid enough.
Lifting my bloodstained hand, I curled my fingers into the hair on top of his head and pushed to my feet. Placing my foot against his shoulder as I added my other hand to his hair, I cried for the girl I was before.
I cried for the girl who I was before he killed my family.
I cried for the girl who had fallen for the lies he’d spun with his pretty words, believing that he would be my family and that I wouldn’t be alone.
I cried for the girl who had to wonder every moment of the day if she was going to be preyed upon.
I cried for the girl who had guarded that last flickering ember of hope within her, even when the shadows threatened to engulf it further with each passing night.
Closing my eyes, I realized that if I wanted to be free of this torment, only I had the power to do that. I had to make the decision to let go of the pain.
“It’s okay to feel sad or hurt by the actions of others, but you will always have the power to decide how you react to it. Those reactions can give them power and control over your life based upon that. If you choose to focus on the good in your life still, then they didn’t win, did they?”
You’re right, Dad.
“This is for me,” I whispered as the salty tears flooded my mouth.
It was as if I heard the metal click of the mental shackles he’d clasped on me unlocking.
With one swift yank backward, I pulled his head from his body before immediately throwing it back to the ground. My shoulders sagged as I took a stumbling step backward, eyes glued to the mess of his body I’d left in the wake of my rage.
I wasn’t sure exactly when he’d died or if the venom had done the job or if it had been when I pulled his head from his shoulders. For me, he died now—in this moment as I gained my freedom, truly.
I was killing the control I’d given him through my reactions and emotions.
Malakai’s life wouldn’t continue in my memories. I wouldn’t give him the fucking satisfaction.
With that, the shackles dissipated for good, untethering me from him.
“Goodbye, Malakai,” I murmured and turned away from the bloody, pulpy mess of his body on the floor, bending to grab my dagger as I prepared to go back to help my men and those brave humans.
A loud clap cracked through the room out of nowhere, bouncing off the walls in a never-ending echo. Chills raced down my spine at the sound, and I quickly unsheathed my second dagger, dropping into a fighting stance.
“Well, well, well,” a deep voice purred. “What do we have here, little dhampyr?”
My head whipped around as I tried to pinpoint where the voice was coming from. It felt as if it was close and far at the same time.
“That was a lovely show you put on,” the voice praised, and my skin crawled, feeling as if the person it belonged to was wrapping around my mind in a caress.
Why did I feel this sudden invasion of privacy?
Pain lanced in my head, and I hissed, squinting against the sudden searing lance. It felt like claws were digging around in my brain, trying to carve a pathway to my consciousness.
“Just let me in,” the voice soothed as I cried out in pain when the stabbing probe continued. “It’ll be so much better when you do. We can accomplish so much more than I ever could with that pathetic, self-proclaimed Emperor.”
Hearing them talk poorly of Malakai caused me to falter in my fight against them for a moment before I processed the rest of their words. The owner of this voice had been working with Malakai, and that relationship hadn’t gotten him what he wanted.
One person instantly came to mind.
The fight over my mind ceased the second I whispered, “Lazarus.”
The pain cleared in an instant, and I was able to unclench my eyes and glance around furtively for the old god.
It was as if he was one with the shadows, the way he emerged from a recessed corner. He was immaculately dressed from head to toe and looked like the highest Lord of the lands might. He had short, slicked black hair and cheek and jaw lines that looked as sharp as the edges of paper.
“You know of me?” he asked in a seductive tone, his crimson eyes flaring with interest as they ran the length of my body.
I couldn’t help the disgust that blanketed my entire being to the invasive stare. My nostrils flared as my upper lip curled, and I answered, “Yes, I knew you’d be here.”
I didn’t want to give away that Barnabus was here and on my side, so I was going to keep the specifics of my knowledge to myself for now.
Shit! What if he’d already met Barnabus and hurt him?
Calm down, Kyella. Focus on the now.
I halted all thoughts headed in that direction as Lazarus spread his arms in a welcoming gesture, like the one Malakai had given me when I broke into the room.
“Well, that makes this all so much easier!” he exclaimed as he slowly prowled toward me. “You know then that you won’t be able to kill me and that resisting me is futile. How lovely this is turning out to be.”
My eyes narrowed as I snapped, “I would never be on your side. I’d rather die than be a puppet for you to control.”
Mid-step he halted, the jovial mood he’d exhibited souring as his fists shook at his sides.
Those red orbs for eyes seemed to burn with flames as he cocked his head to the side and smiled, sighing wistfully as he muttered, “How nostalgic. Those are the exact words your mother whispered to me on her deathbed.”
The fire burning through me instantly chilled, my body filled with ice at the shock of his statement.
He’d managed to completely catch me off guard, and I stuttered, “Wha…What do you mean? How did you know my mother?”