Page 74 of Dance of the Phoenix
She attacked.
My body moved automatically, avoiding her knife and evading all of her attempted attacks. She was ferocious and fast, unrelenting in her pursuit, and I had a hard time keeping my attention intact to make sure she didn’t get a hit in.
You have to kill her,a voice inside me urged.You must. There is no other way.
She’d just killed Logan. She’d also begged me to take her life. I had all the reasons I needed to kill her—even her own consent.
And that’s when I knew I could not get out of this without doing just that.
So as she attacked, I started slowing my movement and began to attack back, sending punches and kicks her way, which she evaded. Gradually, the pacing of our fight grew slower and slower, so much so that despite whatever control she was under, she couldn’t help but match my pace.
Once we reached the ultimate pace, I moved from the first Behest,Gradus Diminutio, to the second,Propero Incrementum, and I accelerated my pace immediately, connecting my punches with every part of her body I could reach. The impacts made her stagger back, gasping in pain as I relentlessly and rapidly went on the complete offense.
Then, I moved toCrura Implacabilis, the third Behest. Letting my upper body rest, I pushed all the power and momentum to my legsand kicked her over and over again, not letting her take the offense, no matter how much she tried. She was completely under my dominion, thanks to Iovan’s Imperium.
The next Behest,Coactus Impetum, was all about spreading the power evenly throughout the body and using certain sets of attacks to goad her into attacking me in a certain way I wanted. It worked almost too well; Eleanor was like a rubber band, snapping into action once she saw the openings I carefully created using the Behest. She aimed for my sides, her knife brushing against my skin and drawing blood.
I continued to compel her to attack the places I wanted her to, and she fell into the trap over and over again, unaware she was exhausting herself in the process. And it was only when I saw her knife hand starting to shake that I moved to the fifth and final Behest:Perniciosius Finis.
I concentrated the entire power I’d gathered and grew throughout the fourth Behest in my hands and arms, and when she almost slipped on the floor due to her tired state, I rushed toward her, grabbed her head, and using every bit of power, strength, and energy I had left, I closed my eyes and pulled.
A sickening tearing sound reverberated through me as I felt my balance tipping, and I fell back on my ass, feeling her hair in my hands and the wet blood dripping down on my clothes.
I was terrified to open my eyes to see the carnage I’d created, but I forced myself to. Eleanor’s head was in my hands, her face turned to me, her eyes glassy. Her neck ... her neck was nonexistent. It was all a mess of torn flesh and veins.
It was then that it occurred to me everything was silent. The crowd did not make a sound. All I could hear was my own heartbeat, quick and uneven.
And suddenly, I couldn’t hold on to the severed head anymore. With a sudden wave of rage, I threw it away and pulled my knees to my chest, burying my head there as my entire body shook with fury mixed with agonizing sorrow.
When Renaldi cleared his throat and said in a cheery voice that made me sick, “And the winner is ... Aileen Henderson of the Rayne League,” I couldn’t hold it in anymore.
I turned my head and vomited.
A butler led me out of the arena just as Renaldi announced there would be a fifteen-minute break before the next battle.
Right at the exit, I saw Ragnor was waiting. I couldn’t look him in the eye. Not after the shit show I’d just pulled. Not after I’d basically killed one of his prized Gifted vampires.
But Ragnor didn’t seem to care about any of it. Instead, he pulled me into his embrace, stroked my hair, and murmured that everything was all right now.
And yet nothing was all right. Nothing was okay. Because of me, Logan was killed. Because of my incompetence and overconfidence. Because I was an idiot.
Distantly, I wondered if Atalon had noticed when I’d stopped time. He must’ve been watching just like Ragnor, and he knew of my ability. Did he just let it all play out without intervening?
Ragnor squeezed me tight, and yet even his embrace did not bring me comfort. Nothing would, really.
“Do you want to go back to the dorms?” Ragnor asked me after a long silence.
Even though I was exhausted, my head was pounding, and every fiber of my being begged for rest, I couldn’t. There were four more battles to be fought—perhaps not by me but by people I cared about. I needed to see this through, even if I felt like my whole world was falling apart.
So I shook my head and said, “Let’s go back.”
But the moment I tried to walk, I suddenly lost all strength and my knees buckled. Ragnor caught me around my waist, and only with his help was I able to somehow make my way back to my seat in the gallery.
I felt eyes following Ragnor and me from the crowd—and the spectators of the Rayne League. Once Ragnor helped me sit down and took the seat next to me, where Logan had sat just an hour ago, I felt all the energy leaving my body and leaned against Ragnor, wishing I could turn back time instead of simply stopping it.
If only I’d stuck to the original plan ...
“Hey.” Isora’s voice made me flinch. But then I felt her hand on my arm, and I turned to look at her. She had exchanged seats with Zoey and was now sitting on my right, her face worried.
