Page 79 of Of Night and Blood: Special Edition

Our heaving chests met in steady intervals, the smell of cinnamon and smoke wafting to me and heating my body. In that moment, I forgot about the audience we had, ignored the warning bells in my own mind, and pushed away the hurt we had caused one another. Because the feel of him against me was intoxicating. The kind of addiction that tore you apart and left you shattered on a floor unable to think of, or want, anything else.

The prince seemed to understand, to follow my thought process and agree. His breaths came harder, loud in my ears and hot on my face.

“I do so love the sight of you holding that dagger to my neck, Princess. Perhaps we could do this every day,” he said, his mouth forming into a smirk.

I knew what he wanted me to do, to say. My mind considered what it would mean to say I was his, to give myself to the demon who stole me two months ago. Who might still plan to use me. The strange fae’s words from my dream all those nights ago still rang in my head, clear and foreboding.

“Any who you allow into your heart will surely betray you. The prince will sooner cut your head from your neck than love you.”

Before I could say anything, or even think further, a slow clap sounded from behind me. The group went silent, all of us adjusting our bodies to seek the source of the sound. There, at the edge of our campsite, was a group of at least five dozen demons.

My body went cold at the sight of them, dressed all in black, with hooded cloaks and mighty swords that seemed to gleam in the fading sun. A rush of adrenaline, fear, and hatred washed into the air, stripping it of the joy that had been there before. Now, I was surrounded by the growing tension, digging into my head and making my body buzz with the need to fight.

The demon in front, a tall male with blush pink hair and dark brown eyes, lowered his hood. Bellamy and I both stood, his body moving to slightly cover mine. I wanted to argue, to shove my way to the front and prove that I could never again be harmed at the hands of a spineless male. Instead, I remained quiet, assessing.

The pink-haired demon was likely their leader, and I found my power urging me towards him, like an itch that needed to be scratched. I tested his mental barriers, finding them weak and flimsy. Inside his head was a mess of red, as if blood dripped from every surface. This male was vicious, killing for sport and regularly selling slaves on the black market. I internally shivered, not quite sure if I should attack now and ask questions later, or if that would be worse. Though I vowed no matter what, he would die for his crimes.

“What an interesting display. They told me you were powerful, but not once did they mention your ability to fight. Convenient detail to leave out,” he said, his voice higher than I thought it would be, a sort of raspy whine. The second he said “they,” images of Mia and Xavier flashed through his mind.

I watched as he struck a deal with them, vowing to bring me back alive and kill the rest. I listened as he promised to also deliver his own prince’s head in a box to them.

Rage filled my vision with red, and I had to force myself to let go of his mind before I did something hasty. Bellamy reached back, his fingertips grazing my arm, as if he knew that I was close to losing my control. The one problem with having the hemlock out of my system was that now I had far more power than I ever possessed before. Maintaining a hold on it all was difficult, to say the least.

“Who are you?” Bellamy asked, his voice bored and uninterested. The pink-haired demon cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowing. Oh, he must have been quite notorious to have the audacity to show this type of vanity. Not only did he expect us to know him, he wanted us to. Needed, even.

“I am the O’Malley Harligold, renowned privateer, and I come for your lovely lady there. Maybe this need not be bloody. Hand her over to me, and you may all go about your evening in peace,” he offered with a grand gesture around our campsite, his voice boisterous.

Bellamy’s anger seemed to peak at the suggestion, tensing his shoulders. One fist lay clenched at his side, as if attempting to fight his urge to lift the sword in his other. His Trusted stood ready, each armed and eyeing the large group in front of us.

O’Malley Harligold straightened, and through his mind I felt his resolve mixing with excitement. He wanted the fight, the bloodshed. Gore was his entertainment. Unfortunately for him, I had recently discovered my own affinity towards violence.

“I highly suggest you reconsider, because I guarantee you that this will only end with your cock shoved down your throat and your eyes gouged from their sockets,” Bellamy said, his voice a low timbre that sent chills up my spine. O’Malley scoffed, the group of demons behind him looking far more uneasy than their leader. “And when the Princess has had her fun with you, I will gladly remove your ugly head from your shoulders.”

I laughed then, unable to contain it. The confidence Bellamy had in me was incredibly reassuring. I readied myself for the first test. A chance for me to measure what I had learned with no restraint.

The Manipulator eagerly awaited.

“Pity, it seems we will need to do this the hard way, Ayad. Let us hope your bloody death does not frighten the fae princess too much,” O’Malley said, anger alight in his eyes. His pride was hurt, I could sense that without attempting to maintain footing in his mind.

I decided then that perhaps he would like an example of just how frightening this would become.

Chapter Forty-Four

With little effort, I grabbed at O’Malley, whispering into his mind.

Did they warn you of my tricks, filthy pirate?

He froze mid step, eyes bulging and flying to me. His mind raged with memories. Mia telling him I would be skittish from mistreatment. That I was powerful, but they had likely been feeding me little and left the blocker on. Xavier had reassured him I was unskilled without my power, that I would be frightened and desperate to get home. They had prepared for a complacent and weak fae.

They had underestimated me.

Foolish of you, O’Malley, to trust royalty.

I stepped forward, a smile on my face as I took in his worried expression. He did not back down, readying himself. In his head he wondered if killing me would lead to his own death, and then I watched as he concluded it would be worth it to suffer the consequences of ending me if it meant saving his pride. He decided it would be an easy kill—after all, I was still a young and sheltered princess. Then he glanced over to Bellamy, and the way he gleefully pictured ripping his intestines from his stomach had me seething.

I shall show you who the weak one is.

Then I was upon him, drawing my sword from my back and striking swiftly. Lian had given me this weapon. It was a perfect match to the dagger, though far larger, the runes even more eye catching—even more unsettling. She said it was lighter than most, but it still had taken me awhile to learn to wield it. I was not perfect, but I was fast and strong. Not to mention I watched as he decided his moves, reacting before he could blink.

---