Page 120 of Oath of Rebellion

Strangely, there was no guilt like she'd expected. She'd never killed a man before. Instead, a cold sense of calm and justice settled on her.

He had it coming. You were within your rights to avenge your husband.

Bella's head swung to Gastone where he lay on the floor. Her own body was cold as ice. Blood and gore dripped down her cheek and clung to her hair. She panted, her heart still racing.

"It's too late," Bella whispered, sinking to her knees beside her husband. She pulled the curtains down with magic, dissolved them into ash, and settling them over his body to put out the fire.

She threw her head back and screamed, throwing magic out in a pulsing arch. The others in the room groaned and then turned to run out the door. She heard their footsteps, but didn't open her eyes, too lost in her grief.

The echo of his heart beat hit her like she was inside a drum.

Thump thump. It's not too late. Thump thump. You can keep him with you, learn his magic and grow stronger. Thump thump. Isn't that what you want? To keep a part of him with you forever? Thump thump.

"Yes," she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks and mixing with the blood of her enemies.

Put your hand on his chest and repeat after me. Thump thump.

She followed the mystical voice as if in a trance. Gastone's jacket and shirt ripped apart as she repeated the words, magical words that had no meaning in modern society and language.

It was all gibberish, but she watched in horror as his chest was neatly sliced open.

Thump thump. Take out his heart.

She shook her head. This was awful, it was the exact opposite of everything Lailant had taught her about saving her fellow man.

Except you're not a normal human, are you? You're the most powerful mage in the land. Isn't that what you want to be? All the power and knowledge at your fingertips. All you have to do is reach out and grab the heart.

Her hand followed, and she struggled to pull it back. It seemed to have a mind of its own, though. Her fingers clasped the slippery, sticky, pumping organ and pulled. Magic severed the arteries as she lifted it above his limp, smoking body.

Now go to the vanity. You have all the tools you need to make this potion. Go.

Her body seemed to flash with an inhuman speed. Her pulse raced as if trying to catch up with her body. Her hands flew through the vials and bowls on her vanity, things she'd been collecting over the past few months of marriage, things that didn't make any sense but brought her a sense of comfort when she'd laid them on the desk.

Horror and terror clawed at her stomach, and she pushed down the nausea as she squeezed the heart, blood dripping into the bowl. Then she put the heart in the bowl. It burst into blue flames, and she blinked, turning away from the blinding light.

The light faded, and the mirror rippled with magic.

Now drink it.

She picked it up, the spicy cinnamon smell making her lick her lips. Her body had a mind of its own as the horror and guilt over this entire nasty day seemed to float away. All that was left was her pain and heartache. Anger and rage built within her too.

She tipped her head back and chugged the drink, the spice burning her lips like she was swallowing flame. She slammed the bowl onto the vanity and the mirror rippled again.

She smacked her lips, wincing at the after taste. Her stomach twisted, knotting with pain as she bent double.

Now let it all out, dear. That's a good girl. Let the anger flow.

The good girl sent a stab of pain through her chest, making her gasp. Her father had always said that. It'd always made her feel safe and like she was making him proud. Then he'd gone to war and was probably dead.

She screamed in pain, coming to terms with the fact that none of the king's men had located her father. He was lost, just like her husband. She'd thought she'd finally found someone to hold her tight and tell her it was alright. A charming husband like Gastone was exactly what she'd needed. He'd praised her in all her accomplishments the past few months, celebrating with each new spell learned and magical level gained.

And the fucking cretins had killed him. She howled with rage.

How dare they kill her husband? He'd given her everything! She was the queen. In destroying Gastone, they thought they could destroy her too?

Over her dead body. She'd done nothing but bend over backwards in that tavern for twenty-five hellish years. The blood, sweat, and tears that went into that business, and for what?

The little selfish pricks still wanted handouts. They wanted free food and free drinks, thought they should get a discount just because they'd fought with her father in the bloody war?

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