Page 94 of Thorns of Deceit: The Beast Within

Skylar’s gaze swept over the crowd, taking in their reactions. Lady Emma, trembling. Advisors, pale and shaken. Even the Captain couldn’t hide his fear.

“We must prepare for war,” King Lyinell continued. He turned to his advisors. “Send word to the Thousand-Year King immediately. We’ll need Aequilibrium’s support.”

Arye stepped forward. Sword dripping. In his other hand?—

Princess Quince’s severed head. Once-beautiful features twisted in agony.

He tossed it before the nobles. Several recoiled. Lady Alison gasped.

Even Skylar’s stomach lurched.

“Thorncrest has made its choice,” Arye said, his voice as cold and sharp as the blade in his hand. “Now they face the consequences.”

Memories flooded Skylar’s mind. The countless battles against Thorncrest forces. The blood she had spilled and the men she had lost. The assassination attempts on Arye’s life, narrowly thwarted. Princess Quince’s machinations. The ambush on her way to the Anathemark estate, where they had nearly?—

Hatred crashed over her. Vision blurred.

The Gryphon stirred. Fed off her rage. Amplified it.

Its bloodlust merged with hers. Overwhelming. All-consuming.

“They deserve to burn,” she hissed. “All of them. Thorncrest. Their people. Their cursed tree. I’ll reduce it all to ashes.”

Copper filled her mouth. Body trembled. Muscles coiled.

Ready to spring. To rend. To destroy.

“Skylar?” Her mother’s voice. Concerned. Distant.

Skylar’s thoughts spiraled into darkness. The ancient pact’s curse clouded her mind. The line between her own desires and the Gryphon’s instincts blurred until she could no longer distinguish between them.

Kill them all. Burn their kingdom. Leave nothing but scorched earth and broken bodies.

She could taste it. The carnage. The satisfaction of Thorncrest crumbling beneath talons and beak.

Hands clenched. Nails bit into palms.

The Divine Beast’s lavender scent. Cloying. Suffocating.

Mingled with blood. With fear. With death.

Heightened senses overwhelmed her.

Her gaze swept over the assembled nobles once more, but this time, she saw them differently.

No longer intimidating figures of the court.

Now they looked small. Weak. Mortals.

Prey.

“I can end them,” she growled, seeing herself through the Gryphon’s gaze. Her eyes gleaming golden. “Right now. Fly to Thorncrest. Burn it all before they know what hit them.”

The Divine Beast’s wings unfurled. Wind gusted. Debris skittered across blood-slicked floor.

Its presence loomed. Physical manifestation of rage and bloodlust.

Skylar felt powerful. Invincible. The years of hiding, of pretending to be someone she wasn’t, fell away.

---