Page 169 of What Blooms from Death

As if he could hear the frantic questions in my head, he smiled. And then he demonstrated more of his supernatural ability, attacking so quickly that I had no hope of avoiding him. His magic-encircled fist struck my chest. I fell back, strugglingto find my balance and trying to will my shadows into something that would protect me.

Before I managed either of those things, Lorien struck again, his fist unclenched, claws of light sinking in and slamming me against the pedestal in the center of the room once more.

I hit harder than before. The painful spasm that shot through my back was so intense that, for a moment, I feared I was entirely paralyzed. The shadows that had started to rise and gather around me scattered, and as their darkness parted, he was suddenlythere—a terrifying figure wrapped in golden light that blinded me as he drew closer.

I didn’t even manage a gasp before he sank the sharp strands of his magic into the side of my neck. They pierced like needles through my skin, burning as they delved deeper. I could feel them with disturbing precision, every twist and turn and subtle movement they made. It seemed as if they were hunting,almost, hooking themselves around each strand of my magic they could find, trying to rip it out of me—to separate it from my very soul.

Little by little, they started to succeed.

The pain was…indescribable.

It tore my mind from my body, pulling me away from all rational thought.

I don’t know how much time passed before I became aware of myself again. Aware that I lay dazed and burned and bleeding like a sacrifice upon an altar, overtaken by a death-like stillness.

Iwantedto be dead.

But no—I was still alive. I could feel my pulse, my shuddering breaths, my twitching fingers. And I could feel my magic—gods, the way that magic still twisted and curled, resisting every attempt Lorien made to pull it into his possession.

Its resistance did no good, in the end.

Like deeply-lodged thorns, those pieces of me still came out when he applied enough force, ripping painful tears through my flesh as they went.

An involuntary convulsion bent my body into an unnatural angle, and Lorien leaned closer, increasing the pressure on my throat.

“Don’t move,” he ordered.

I didn’t move, because Icouldn’tmove.

“Good girl,” he said, his voice low and full of the same possessive hunger he’d watched me with earlier. The weight around my throat slid lower, needling and burning its way through my chest. Catching and pulling more of my magic toward him. His own power seemed to settle in the places where mine was ripped out, and my body grew heavier with each violent exchange, becoming more and more difficult to move.

A horrid image flashed in my mind—myself, sprawled over the stone, flayed open like a fresh kill with my heart and everything else laid out for him to feast upon.

I kept trying to move despite the heaviness. Until finally,finally,I felt somethingother than the pain, something beyond the blood and the cold stone underneath me…just the slightest itch upon my wrist.

The bracelet my father had given me, reminding me of its presence.

I closed my eyes, trying to remember his face.

Seven years.

Seven years with nothing but a memory of that man and the kingdom I once called home, all because of the beast who loomed over me now.

My hand was already shaking, my fingers still twitching from pain, from shock. I shook it all harder—on purpose—scraping my wrist against the stone pedestal, sliding the bracelet off, bit by bit. In that moment, I no longer feared what would happenif I removed it; it couldn’t be worse than what I was already enduring.

It slipped over my hand, and almost instantly I felt a surge of cold power—a pulling, desperate power that urged me to lift my head, to turn my gaze in the direction of my fallen sword. I couldseethe energy sleeping within that sword, all of a sudden. The glow of it pulsed like a heartbeat that seemed to speed up to match my own.

I sensed Lorien moving above me.

Excruciating pressure followed, cutting toward my heart.

I summoned every ounce of strength I could to turn back to him, to meet his gaze without flinching as I growled, “Get your fucking handsoff me.”

Knocking his touch away, I reached toward Grimnor and beckoned my fingers, bringing the sword hurtling toward us.

It nearly impaled him between the shoulder blades, but he twisted wildly aside at the last instant.

The sword flew over my head, clattering against the ground several feet away. Before I started crawling after it, I stretched a hand toward the knife he’d thrown away earlier. It was lighter than Grimnor. Easier to grab. It flew faster under my command, too, striking Lorien in the neck before he even realized it was coming.

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