Chapter Thirty-Seven #2
The Elder’s shaky voice gasps, “Her Horse Whisper Gift is corrupted. That scar you gave her—it must have contained residue of your Thorn Gift, Your Majesty.”
Everything is aching, every part of me feeling like I’m burning alive. And that sick, cloying darkness writhing within me, the terrifying feeling of something squirming and coiling beneath my skin, presses outward against the thin barrier of my flesh and mind.
I look down at my hands where black veiny threads of thorns pulse, snaking their way up my arms. My muscles clench, tight and alive. The urge to smash, to shatter, to destroy is immediate and intoxicating.
Yes, something dark whispers inside me. Break them. Make them bleed.
Images flood my mind—faces twisted in agony, blood coating me like a second skin, the exquisite snap of bone beneath my fingers. I want to watch the light drain from their eyes, one by one. I want to hear them beg. The thought sends a shiver of pleasure down my spine.
My heart—no, not my heart, the shrivelled rotten core where my heart used to be—begins to hum with a low, resonant frequency.
It’s the sound of true power, lethal and unforgiving.
The Fae I was before would have recoiled from these thoughts, would have wept at what I’ve become.
But she’s gone now, drowned in this beautiful darkness, and I don’t mourn her. I celebrate her death.
Let it go, the corruption purrs through my veins. Let them all die.
And Gods help me, I want to.
Somewhere, loud voices sound distant and muffled, as if they’re shouting through thick glass. I feel the emotional shifts—urgency, anger, panic—but the actual words are meaningless, garbled noise.
One voice cuts through the fog, vibrating not in my ears but inside my skull.
“Don’t you dare give in. Fight it, Alaya. We love you.”
The words roll like thunder, each syllable roaring in my head. My spine straightens instinctively before my mind even registers who speaks.
Reth.
The decay within me recognises our shared vengeance within him. It doesn’t seek to ruin or destroy—it seeks to unchain the monster he’s been keeping in the dark. It’s an invitation for him to finally stop pretending and claim me.
“Weakness is a choice, my Alpha. I am shattered, but the pieces are sharper than the whole ever was—your strength and malice what fuels me now. My name is Alaya Morigan, and I am unbroken.”
Pain is replaced by an immense, heavy stillness. Scenes like awakened dreams and memories pull me in.
‘A baby in a cradle before me. I feel the power thrumming below her skin. My eyes widen, having only felt this much power in a Fae so young once before. This Gift will be my salvation. I look around—her mother is distracted. I quickly hold my hand above the child, my power surging, locking away that Gift into an empty void.’
My teeth clench, body trembles.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
“I am Alaya Morigan … and … I am unbroken.”
‘The beauty kneels before me, curls of her long black hair plastered to her face with sweat, blood coating her face like a mask. I clasp her face in my hands and lean down to whisper in her ear, “Your sacrifice was in vain, Wren. Your daughter will be my greatest weapon of all.”
Her pupils dilate within her purple eyes, her breath catches, and I feel my lips curl into a smile I cannot control.’
Colours dim, my tears fall.
Thump-thump … … Thump-thump … …
“I am … Alaya Morigan … and …”
‘In my personal office, the General is standing in front of the desk before me, his body stiff. “She will bring about the destruction of the Equitae once and for all. Our Thorn Guards have grown weak since we last had such a powerful Horse Whisperer within our grasp. The ability to turn the Equitae into Thorn Guards will allow us to create the ultimate weapons against their own. Heartwood will be ours.”’
My back arches, coldness creeps in.
Thump … thump …
“I … am … Alaya …”
‘My glee as I watch Kiernan’s face contort with rage at my words.
The bundle of papers I give him, carefully edited translations telling him how the Bond can be used to control them and how to break it—the severing of her magical anchor to him, that will finally unlock her Gift, and deliver her to me. ’
My eyes close, breath slows.
Thump … … …
“I...”
An all-consuming stab of pain erupts and my eyes fly open. I hear Kiernan gasp.
“Kaleel! What … what’s wrong with her eyes? They’re...blue.” He stammers, his arms gripping me so tightly. “They were violet. They were—”
“Terra, forgive us.” Kaleel’s voice is laced with horror. “Are they … glowing? I fear much more than a Gift was unlocked tonight, Your Majesty.”
“What the—? Oh shit!” Reth’s voice in my mind floods with stunned recognition, awe crashing into disbelief. “Your eyes! Fuck it’s true, what I felt was the Herd Bind.”
I feel him now, stronger than I felt him in Heartwood. That inexplicable pull, a frequency humming between us, wordless and ancient, own calling to own. The power settling into my bones feels like coming home to a body I was always meant to inhabit.
A soft muzzle touches my face, velvet-warm against my cheek, whiskers tickle over my skin. But it’s not just touch—it’s acknowledgment of blood.
I slip away into nothing, his voice following me into the darkness where everything ends.
“You are Alaya Morigan, and you are unbroken. You are kin. You are OURS. This is only the start of our forever. My Little Wildie, I’m going to fucking kill them all.”
Some Stories Don’t End
They Just Pause To Catch Their Breath
Kingdom Of Kaladia Book 2