Page 80 of The Daughters of Nyx

I wasn’t sure what it was. But it coursed through my veins and ignited a deep and terrible pain inside my bones that made me cry out as it swept over my skin. It wasn’t fire—I couldn’t feel any physical heat against my sensitive skin—but it burned all the same.

Maybe it was ice. Like being plunged into a frozen river, so cold that it started to burn.

But I felt only pinpricks of pain against my flesh, and an overwhelming need to get out of my own skin.

My eyes slowly peeled open, and I was met with darkness. Not the thick kind where you couldn’t see anything, so heavy that it made it hard to breathe. No, this darkness was thin,

revealing the outline of familiar furniture and walls I used to hide behind as a child.

I pulled myself up but stopped as a wave of nausea washed over me. My childhood home was quiet, the silence unnerving. There was always sound here; Mom’sKeurig, the washing machine dinging its finished load, my step-dad in the garage, puttering around like he knew what he was doing, the kids playing with old dolls that used to be mine. Thea and I in my bedroom, which now belonged to Eloise, hiding from Kerry and all the bullshit she wanted to throw at us.

I searched this familiar darkness for one of my sisters, but instead, found heavy boots and thick, dark pants, almost similar to the ones I’d seen Elias wear.Tactical gear. Were these soldiers of the Queen?

And if they were, why were they kidnapping me? Were they planning on taking me back to the island, with or without my consent?

Themagicin my veins burned, and this time it felt like rage. Like lightning and fire and ice.

I struggled to my knees, but the booted person kicked me in the stomach, sending me back to the carpeted ground. I cried out and rolled, clutching my hands to my abdomen.

When I blinked, my vision cleared momentarily. The woman who looked down on me sneered in a way that screamed annoyance rather than pleasure.

“Stay down, bitch, or you’ll be put down,” she hissed. I couldn’t make out much of her features, but she had blonde hair that was pulled back in a tight bun at the nape of her neck and a pretty face—well, it would have been pretty if she wasn’t looking down at me with disgust. Her lean body was lined with weapons; the hilts of daggers and knives poked through her clothing, and strapped across her back was a set of swords.

I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. Maeve’s dagger, her gift to me, flashed in my mind. I carefully reached behind me, where the dagger hid at my back, the sheath designed so I could wear it comfortably beneath my work blouse and skirt.

A smile almost curved my lips as I felt the hilt beneath the satin of my blouse. They hadn’t stripped me of potential weapons.

Thank the Goddess.

I leaned up on my elbows and levelled her with a glare. “Where is my family?”

She smirked, pulling her leg back to strike again, but a shout sounded somewhere in the distance. Her attention shifted, and I used that moment of distraction to yank the dagger from its sheath and slam it into her stomach.

Her shocked gaze fell on me. She opened her mouth as if to yell, but instead, she looked down at the blood now streaming from the wound.

Slowly, I pulled the blade out. “I’m sorry,” I said, and I meant it. I grabbed her shoulders as she fell, a wave of calm washing over me. I lowered her to the ground, and her eyes met mine again. Anger and sadness played in the depths of her hazel irises.

“Death to the Queen,” she whispered, before pressing against a mark on her collarbone.

Blood coated the brand, almost highlighting the raised, burnt skin. But the insignia was clear: a swan, its long neck raised as fire surrounded its body. It sat in a border of leaves that made almost a hexagon-like shape around it.

I swallowed hard.So, definitely not sent by the Queen.

Had this woman worked for the people who hunted me?

I almost rolled my eyes at myself as I searched her for a phone, or something I could use to signal the others. But she carried nothing but weapons on her person.

So if she were contacting others, it had to be through magic.

Fuck.

The strange calm forced the pain from the burning into the back of my mind. Somewhere between the alley behind theCamillaand being dragged back to my family home, I’d lost my heels, so I wore nothing more than stockings, despite the chill permeating the house.

I finally took the chance to really take in my surroundings as light from the rising sun finally cut through the darkness. I’d been left on the floor of my mother’s bedroom, by the foot of her messy bed. The door to her ensuite was closed, and the door beside it, which lead into her walk-in, stood ajar. The bedroom door across from me was also closed.

I didn’t stand right away. The windows behind Kerry’s bed were open, the blinds shuttering with a soft breeze. We might have been upstairs, but I didn’t want to risk someone seeing me. Our house bordered a small forest outside our small town, and it gave easy coverage—I would know, thanks to years of sneaking out.

Instead, I crawled to the bathroom door and opened it, the hinges thankfully silent. I poked my head in but found nothing, and huffed a breath. The walk-in held nothing either.

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