Page 79 of A Fate so Cruel

Anger rose in him, too. He was sick of their judgement.

Rion slammed his magic into the next two so hard he heard their noses break, something else too, likely a jaw or eye socket. They writhed on the ground, screaming in pain as blood gushed from their faces.

He spun when slender fingers wrapped around his wrist. She’d been so silent that—fury poured from her. So much fury that it made him step back.

Too slow.

He’d been too slow as a sharp pain shot through his wrist and up into his arm. His skin bulged, then ruptured in half a dozen places where stems pushed out from beneath his flesh. Bloody leaves unfurled.

His magic reacted quicker than he could think and pierced through her torso in several places. All vital.

Her fingers slackened and Rion recoiled, gripping his arm, unable to bend or move it without blinding pain.

No time. There was no time to process it as another figure lunged. His heart was racing, beating through his chest like a violent drum. And his magic reacted again, tearing the flesh from a male’s outstretched arm.

A knife sank into Rion’s right shoulder, then Rion let his magic explode. It surged beneath and around him, tearing through the rest of the cobblestone, swirling in a storm that prevented any from getting close. It peeled away their skin and muscles, leaving large hunks of flesh dangling from bone.

Screams echoed from somewhere in his mind. A voice that begged him to use restraint, but something else was there too, egging him on, claiming they deserved it.

Maybe they did. After all, they’d attacked him first. Everyone always did. He’d been born into a world that’d deemed him cruel so perhaps cruel is what he should be.

Let them suffer for a change.

“Monster,” a female sneered, blood dripping from between her teeth.

Monster. He’d been called that before. He saw the surrounding carnage. Knew exactly what it would look like to those who cleaned up the streets tomorrow. It was so easy to blame the creature they all feared.

Rion exposed his fangs and growled back.

He was done with mercy.

They fell one at a time. Died in vain as they sacrificed their lives for a false belief.

It was only after he was covered with their blood, only after the street had been bathed in gore that the civilians began to retreat.

Rion stepped and they stepped back.

He growled and they ran.

But when he turned his back, heading straight for the governor’s manor, they lunged at him again.

And Rion bathed the streets with their blood.

Chapter Eleven

Rion slammed his hand down on the sink’s edge and let the tweezers clatter to the drain, splattering droplets of blood along the white marble in their wake. He gritted his teeth then grabbed the bottle to his left and took another swig. The amber liquid burned his throat, but it paled in comparison to the inferno pulsing down his arm.

Everything ached. Or it had before he’d downed a quarter bottle of liquor. He’d taken it directly from the governor’s personal reserves. The male wouldn’t be needing it anymore anyway.

Another breath, then Rion grabbed the tweezers again and angled himself in the mirror. He grimaced. It looked as bad as it felt.

Starting at his wrist and extending all the way to his bicep, the skin along his arm was raised and bulging. It had turned various shades of purple and red and blue, and small openings had formed along the skin where the vine had broken through.

A civilian. He cursed and stared at the place he’d been working on for over an hour. He’d hoped the alcohol would dull the pain, but it hadn’t helped nearly enough.

A puddle of his own blood sat by his feet and the lower part of his arm had gone numb. On the outside, at least.

Rion drank from the bottle again. He just needed to get it out. Fast. Then he could move on from this nightmare of an evening.

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