Page 126 of To Bleed A Kingdom

Feeling Trip’s terror, seeing it etched on his face – a face that is the exact replica of the male sprawled at my feet – I open the door to my cage and allow the darkness to slip through. Those cold, obsidian shadows I was born with surge through my veins, injecting my heart with bloodlust, swiping away any mercy for the Air immortal kneeling before me.

Removing Trip’s hand from me, I push him behind me and crouch down before the male.“Tell me…” I ask, my voice low and cold, sinister. “Why would I allow someone who beats his own child to live?”

The monster’s gaze instantly snaps to mine, filled with a darkness that could rival my own. “You shouldn't have said that.”

“Lena,” Trip breathes. “Run!”

The Air immortal’s sapphire and starlight jewels suddenly flare and he whips two glittering palms up. I reach for him, grabbing him by the forearm and snapping it in half all in a single motion, quickly doing the same to the other arm before he can release a bloodcurdling scream.

“It's interesting,” I note, watching him scream and sob, his eyes rounded in horror at the sight of broken bones piercing through his skin. “You fae and immortal love to tell your silly stories of how the gods love you so much that they blessed you with their divine Gifts. But if your almighty gods truly favored you, one would think they wouldn't limit your ability to summon your Gifts through only your palms.” Leaning forward, I smack his flopping, useless hands and he shrieks. “So much magic right at your fingertips, but all I had to do was break your arms. Now look at you. No better than a dirty human.”

Snatching him up by the throat, I drag him towards me. “You believe yourself so powerful, but you're not. You're a coward. You prey on those you deem weaker than you, because in your twisted, cruel mind, you feel it makes you superior to them, but you're wrong. Too blind to see that some of us only appear weak.”

Grabbing one of his broken arms, I twist. More fragments of bone spear through his skin with a sickening crunch. A choked cry rips from his throat as blood spills from his wounds, blanketing us in its coppery warmth. “Some of us,” I hiss, “are wolves tethered within sheepskin, salivating for an excuse to bathe in your blood and wipe you and your filth from the face of the realms. Is that what you see when you look at me?” I ask, cocking my head to the side. “A sheep? Someone meant to be used and abused at your will? No.” I shake my head. “You won't make that mistake again with me. But you will with another, won't you?” My gaze snaps down to the blood soaking my vambraced hand, and I lift my fingers to my lips, groaning at the rich, iron taste of his lifesource soaking into me, coating my tongue and enlivening my nerves.

“Well, I cannot allow that, can I?” Digging my thumb into the skin beneath his chin, I jerk his head back and lick up the column of his throat, the salty taste of sweat and fear mixing with his blood.

“Lena!”

A sharp command pierces through the haze and my gaze snaps to Tristan where he stands guard at the mouth of the alley with Amara.

“Not here,” he says, jerking his head towards Trip.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to control the bloodlust flowing through my veins, the throbbing in my gums and the darkness within me starving for another taste. But it’s been too long. I'm weak and tired. So very tired. It’s too difficult to pull back. Even now as I grit my teeth and hold my breath, using every ounce of willpower to control myself, every fiber in my being screams at me to just give in. To allow those obsidian shadows free rein. But then I recall who I am, what I am, and how I choose to be. Remembering that even though I was born of darkness, I’ve also chosen to follow the light.

Slamming the lucky son of a bitch to the ground, I use his trousers to wipe his blood from my arms and lips, grateful it didn't soak too far into my vambraces.

“Let’s go,” I say to Trip. He grabs his satchel off the ground, collects the spilled items, then rushes to my side.

“You'll pay for this, bitch,” the Air immortal croaks.

“No, I won't,” I say without a backward glance, striding out of the alley.“But you will.”

Slender fingers grab hold of my arm, tugging. “You shouldn't have done that,” Trip says, glancing nervously down the alley. “Jareth is dangerous.”

“Don't you worry about that. I can take care of myself.” Stroking his arm, I give him a reassuring smile. “How do you feel?”

“I'm fine.” He shrugs and stares down at his feet. “Nothing’s broken, just a few bruises.”

“Good.” I nod, clearing my throat. “Head on inside.”

Trip shuffles awkwardly, then suddenly lurches for me, wrapping gangly arms around my neck in a tight hug. “Thank you, Lena,” he whispers. “And please don’t tell anyone he's my father.”

Emotion clogging my throat, I wrap my arms around him, fisting the back of his homespun tunic. “I won't.”

Trip pulls back, offers me a small smile, and turns to walk up the porch steps of The Quiet Harpy, disappearing through the door.

“Find out where Jareth lives,” I order.

“On it,” Amara replies, striding away from us without even glancing in Aurora's direction as she passes her by.

“Where is she going?” Aurora asks with a furrowed brow, thumb gesturing over her shoulder. “And what are you all still doing out here? Wait…” She pauses, squinting her eyes to peer down the alley. “Is that screaming I hear?”

Tristan and I share a look, and I shrug. “Yes.”

“Oh my gods!” Aurora gasps, placing a palm to her chest. “Are they alright?”

I laugh. “Nope.”

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