Page 64 of Hollowed

Alexander’swhip cracked in her direction her, but my father raised his hand, roots shooting up from the earth to wrap around the whip, pulling it down with a sharp crack.TheDullahangrowled, a menacing sound, and even without his head,Iknew the expression on his face would be deadly.

“Harmher, andIwill take great pleasure in removing your head from your shoulders.”

Mymother merely laughed.

Bloodthundered in my ears, my heart pounding as my heart tried to keep up.Clawingat the earth,Itried to get away from my mother, to get out of the range of her magic.

Alexanderstepped up to my father, shrugging off the roots my father tried to use to subdue him.Withan effortless movement,Alexanderpulled the root closest to him, yanking it from the ground and wrapping it around my father’s neck, pulling him to his body as he cut off my father’s airway.Myvision had blurred, fading asIstruggled to keep myself upright, butIsaw my father’s body slump beforeAlexanderpushed it to the ground.Fromthe ground, his unseeing eyes stared back at me.

Icouldn’t breathe—couldn’t focus on his body as black spots dotted my vision.

Myfather was dead.

Instantly, my mother’s magic relinquished its hold on me.Myhead spun asIsucked in a deep, gasped breath, then panted as my body tried to replenish its oxygen.Holdingmy throat,Istudied my father’s body, waiting for guilt, regret, sadness—anything to take hold of me.Butthe only thingIfelt was my breath shuddering against my hand.Itwas as if it were a stranger lying on the ground.Ifelt nothing for him.

Justas he’d felt nothing for me.

Mymother turned her focus toAlexander, face contorted and lips snarling, and she sent her magic toward him as he advanced on her. “Youkilled my husband?”

“Youwould kill your own child,”Alexandershot back, brushing off her attempts at cutting off his oxygen as he approached her.Herwind did nothing to slow him, nothing to stop his heavy steps. “Whatis the difference?”

“Mychild is a waste of life who should never have been born,” she snarled, blasting him with a wave of air that sent him stumbling back.

Herwords echoed in my head, rattling off every corner of my mind and fracturing what little peaceI’dcreated.Redtinged my vision now, my face heating with both anger and embarrassment.Fromthe ground, fire engulfed my hands, burning at the grass.Raisingone shaky hand,Ilaunched a fireball at my mother, striking her in the side.

Shecried out in pain, clutching her wound as she whirled on me. “Youinsolent child!Howdare you?”

Anotherball of flames left my hand, one after the other, fueled by my unending rage.Eachwas meant to hurt the woman who’d only ever made me feel less than.Iwas no longer shaking.Iwasn’t thinking.Therewas nothing on my mind except her words, the sneer on her face, the strike of her palm against my skin.Everyinstance of her abuse, of her disappointment in me, every barbed word and sharp slap flooded my mind.Ilet all of it fuel my magic, channeling it at her in unending volleys of flames.

Myfire struck true, over and over and over, pummeling at my mother until she lay motionless on the grass.

Myvision cleared, realizing whatIwas looking at: her body charred and blackened beyond recognition.

Thebreath rushed from my lungs and my knees gave out, no longer able to hold my weight.AllIcould do was stare at her body.

Shewas dead.Finallydead.Iwas finally free from her.

Unlikeseeing my father’s body, every emotionI’dever felt before rushed through me, slicing through my mind in a whirlwind.

Relief.Fury.Regret.Pride.Allof it and then some.Therewas too much—too many feelings to decipher.

ButIknew, without a doubt, without an inkling of a question, thatIwas glad she was dead.

AndIwas gladIhad been the one to kill her.

Withone last look at my mother,Iturned toAlexander, searching him out.Hewas standing, once again headless and shrouded in an undulating purple haze, over the bodies of the two people most responsible for my pain.Thetwo people who should have protected me, who should have loved me more than anyone else.Thetwo people who had been ready to murder me to protect themselves.

“It’sover,”Iwhispered, focusing onAlexander’schest, on the buckles of his jacket, on anything to keep my eyes from wandering back to their bodies.Ididn’t want to see them anymore, didn’t care that they were dead.Iwanted to feel remorse, and maybeIwould, later.Butonly the unending wash of relief moved through me asIslumped against a headstone, tired beyond words asIstretched my legs out in front of me.

Alexanderstooped in front of me, transforming back into his human form.Hishands cupped my face as he turned my head to one side and then the other, inspecting me with narrowed blue eyes, the pupils blown wide as they roamed over my face and then down the rest of my body. “Areyou hurt?”

BeforeIcould answer, the sound of cracking branches emerged from the forest behind us.Turning,Iheld my breath as we both watched the tree line.

Alexanderpulled me to my feet as the wave of purple magic took over him, turning him into theDullahanonce more.Thesound grew closer, each step over the earthen debris making me flinch, the snapping too similar to the noise of bones snapping.

Mybreath froze in my lungs.Thetrees rustled along the edge of the cemetery and my body tensed, waiting.

Thirty

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