Page 81 of A Fate so Cruel

Rion tilted the bottle to his lips and drank until his throat couldn’t bear it. He set the bottle down and leaned against the sink again.

She prodded another area. “It would be easier if I used my magic—”

“No.” Hell no, he was done with Brónach’s magic for a lifetime.

She clicked her tongue, then placed the tip of the tweezers against one of the many holes in his arm. Rion ground his teeth when the metal prodded his flesh and searing pain shot all the way down his arm. She dug deeper and he felt a section of the offending greenery shift. Rion squeezed the lip of the sink and couldn’t hold back a grunt when she pulled a piece free.

He took several deep breaths and she held it up to the mirror for him to see. It was barely longer than his finger.

“This is stupid. You’re going to die of blood loss before we’re done.”

He reached for the bottle again. “No magic.”

She huffed and placed the tweezers into another hole; this time Rion growled against the pain. He was panting by the time she pulled it out. It was even smaller than the first.

“I’m not doing this.” She let the tweezers fall back into the sink. “Either you let me use my magic and get this done in a few seconds, or you do the rest yourself.”

“Then get out.”

“Gods, does alcohol make you stupid? How do you expect to get every single piece out? It’s embedded deep, and the small roots will be impossible for you to find.” She looked him over. “You look ready to hit the floor as it is.”

Rion gritted his teeth. She was right and he hated it. He could handle the pain, that part wasn’t what bothered him.But even if he managed to get the largest sections out, the smaller would remain. They’d cause infection, which would only complicate matters further.

He squeezed the edge of the sink. “Swear it again.”

Selina sighed. “I swear I will not try to kill you with my hand, magic, command, or any weapons at any point tonight, tomorrow, or even into the coming week.”

Rion studied her again, searching for the lie. Nothing burned his nose. He’d never allowed himself to be vulnerable with anyone aside from Saoirse. To put his life in Selina’s hands, despite her words—

She’d been sent to kill him. She was a manipulator. Maybe her words weren’t true at all.

He saw the concern in her gaze as she stared at his arm. But maybe—maybe this one time she was sincere. Maybe, despite her orders—

“Do you always think this much or is that the alcohol, too?”

Rion gritted his teeth. “Get it over with.” He’d see if he woke up tomorrow.

She pointed to the bottle of alcohol. “Finish that first.”

He did. Rion downed the contents, then slammed the bottle in the sink so hard it shattered. Glass flew everywhere, scattering across the tiled floor. “Happy?”

“Almost. Sit.” She pointed to the wall.

His vision blurred. “Why?”

“So I don’t have to catch you when you inevitably pass out, that’s why.”

Rion turned, stumbled, caught himself, then slumped against the wall and sank to the floor. The coolness from the tile seeped through his back and he leaned into it.

No one moved for a long minute. His mind tottered on the edge of fading, but her voice broke through. “You mentioned you couldn’t always control it. Do I need to be worried?”

Rion studied the grains at his feet. They were just as sluggish as he felt. He didn’t have the strength to open his eyes. “It’s fine.”

She must have been surveying him because it took a while for her to approach. Adrenaline spiked through him anew when he scented her magic. He cracked his heavy eyes open and watched her place her hands over his skin. This was stupid. After all the training he’d done, after all the things he’d endured, he was going to die thanks to someone who’d likely never trained a day in their life.

Her hands kept moving over his skin, poking and prodding as she went. “I think I can get it all in one go.” Her voice was distant, floating through his mind. He tried to piece together her meaning then white hot pain erupted through his body.

Rion screamed, unable to contain it and tried to pull away from the source of the pain. It lanced through his arm, tearing at the muscles themselves. They were being ripped away, pulled out through his very skin.

---