Page 110 of Brutal Birthright

She was already more powerful than she had ever been before they took her.

The House of Elharean would be nothing in the face of the power she now wielded.

And she would ensure they paid in rivers of crimson for every second they had kept her locked away in captivity.

Ri found herself standing before what looked like the remnants of a throne. One made of red crystalline shards, now shattered into rubble on a raised dais. The body of what must have been the House of Elharean’s leader lay mutilated and savaged in a twisted heap. Only a crown coated in blood remained where their head should have been.

The sight made Ri’s stomach churn, but the body of whoever she was viewing this scene through merely laughed.

She bent down and lifted the crown with a slender finger, running a thumb over the dried blood and hummed with satisfaction at the sight.

Perfect.

Then, the figure raised it and affixed it upon her own head. Humming softly to herself as she stepped over the pools of blood and lingering evidence of whatever battle had taken place here.

From somewhere on the far side of the hall, a low, croaking noise drew her attention. The figure—Ri now knew this was the body of a witch—portaled across the space in a heartbeat. It left Ri slightly disoriented at the sensation as she saw it through someone else’s eyes, but the feeling of immense pleasure inside their chest told her everything she needed to know.

Whoever this was had been without their magic for a long, long time. It had been forcibly taken from them. And now they were intent on exacting revenge on the House of Elharean.

But it would seem that something extremely violent had happened, that had toppled their Elharean dynasty and freed this being in the process.

And this was somehow all connected to the yawning chasm still leaking immense power in the centre of this space. The portal spewing steam and a sulphuric odour.

Standing over a figure lying face down on the ground, hair matted with blood and a leg badly snapped below the knee, Ri looked on at the grisly sight. Without so much as a second’s hesitation, magic flowed from the hands that were not her own, and flipped the man’s body over.

Sickening glee at the sight of whoever this was thundered through her.

This man was someone they despised with every inch of their soul.

A master manipulator.

Her husband.

And here he lay, broken and tormented at her feet. Just how she’d lain awake imagining for centuries now. She’d so often wondered how this moment would taste if she ever had the pleasure of being the one to take her vengeance on him. Now, the fates had given her exactly the kind of blood-soaked retribution she’d thirsted for.

She’d be sure to gorge on the pleasure of his death at her hands.

“Fiadh?” The man’s voice cracked as his eyes struggled to stay focused. A flash of fear morphed into absolute terror as he blinked up from where he lay on his back.

“Hello, husband.” A voice that sounded familiar to Ri, but one she couldn’t place in the haze of this memory, spoke out loud for the first time. “It's been a long time. How interesting you still know my face.”

His already pale skin turned ashen grey. The look of a man who knew he would meet death in mere seconds.

“Please.” Another croak. Only the words rang hollow across the lifeless hall. This was not a man asking for pardon or to be spared. He was begging for a merciful death.

One that he did not deserve.

But the power called even more strongly from the chasm behind where she stood. Ri could feel it swelling and building with ever-increasing pressure. The air around her body began to hum and buzz with the potency of her magic.

Ampher power absorbed everything and amplified it, giving the rare few witches ever to exist with this gift an unmatched and unrivalled ability.

Harnessing this primordial power emitting from the portal behind her? She would be unstoppable in her quest to seek revenge on those who abandoned her to this miserable fate.

Her own family.

A sneer lifted her top lip as she looked down on the grey face of the man. His wheezing breath caught in his throat, and his lips were a mottled purple colour. To think she once idolised this fool. Her young, naive self had allowed him to manipulate her. Groom her. Convince her that she would be given everything she desired if she left with him and joined the House of Elharean.

Only to be locked away for two hundred years as soon as she’d signed herself over to him in marriage. Stripped of her magic before she had been able to understand what their dark sorcerers were doing to her. Imprisoned in this rock fortress, never to see the light of day or taste freedom again.

---