Page 132 of The Girl Who Should Be Dead

“Once you finish your killing spree, I’ll explain myquestions and you’ll probably understand,” Axel replies, still casual, before he shrugs. “Though from what I’ve heard, they probably sucked.”

It’s almost an apology, and Ambra leans her head back against the makeshift pillow.

“He’s okay?” she asks, after a few minutes of vastly uncomfortable silence.

“He’s absolutely fine,” Axel replies, amused. “Being an absolute prick about all of this, but he’s fine.”

And then, with them having a wordless conversation she has no hope of understanding, with a snap, the leash jerks around her neck.

She chokes, arching off the bed, her wrist tied in place.

“Shit!” Axel says, scrambling for her other side, as Alette grabs her by her shoulder, pressing her downwards.

Pain ricochets down her back, up her throat, reaching down to her fingertips, as the leash closes around her.

He can’t. She’s not recovered enough, she can’t fight back, she can’t—

An abrupt loosening, and she slumps back, keening, the edges of her vision black.

Each breath comes out in a rasping squeak, and the edges of her wound start to pull, blood welling up on the edges, even underneath the bandages.

“What was that?” Alette asks, almost imperial, like she’s imitating someone with far more authority than she has, and all Ambra can do is gasp.

“Obviously, that was the leash, A,” Axel replies, and she’s not thankful for his translation, and both of their hands are tight on her shoulders. “Ambra, can you hear us?”

She manages a nod, and there are tears on her face, starkly cold. Her wrist aches, the line of necromancytwisting it down into position even when the rest of her body reacted, keeping it at an unnatural angle.

“I—” she starts, then takes another shuddering gasp, her lungs on fire. “Get…”

With another snap, the leash tightens, pulling her chin up and closing off her throat.

She struggles against it, trying to bring her other hand to claw at it, but Axel pins that shoulder down, pressing her into the cot.

A wire wrap of compulsion, yanking her away, teleporting, but the line of necromancy burns, viciously bright, and a scream builds up in Ambra’s throat, caught behind the leash.

Before the leash abruptly goes slack, slumping her back against the cot, sweat coating her forehead.

“What do you need?” Alette says, her dark brown eyes completely serious. “Tell us what you need.”

Ambra opens her mouth to speak, but the compulsion twists itself inside of her, cutting off her words.

It’s not the leash, he’s not pulling against her, just…controlling.

In the space of a few seconds, Boltiex’s control floods through her, and he opens her eyes up to the room, immediately at the wards that circle the ceiling, then to the strip of Necromancy on her wrist.

Sharp, she can feel his curiosity.

He’s seeing through her. He’s observing, he’s putting them in danger, he’s…

“Interesting,” he murmurs through her voice. “Untie that.”

Alette freezes, staring at Axel again. “I can’t.”

“Hmm,” her voice speaks, and he flicks her eyes up to Alette, observing her face, then to Axel, and his recognitionthrums through her veins. “Alette Jyoshti? What are you doing in all of this?”

Alette jerks back, then her chin juts out to Axel. “Go get him.”

“What?” Axel asks, but he’s already scrambling back, releasing her shoulder.

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