Page 38 of Godsbane
“I’m going to take my time ruining you,” he snarls, an evil smile spreading across his scarred face as he plants his boot on my throat to hold me in place against the hard ground.
But I’ll gladly meet Death before I let him take another breath.
Refusing to sheath the sword, the man struggles to undo his fraying leather belt one-handed. He averts his gaze from me for only a second, but it’s more than enough time for me to slide my hands down to the sheaths on my outer thighs. I slip the daggers into my hands, readying my grip. The clouds shift again, concealing my glinting blades in their shadows.
Pants now at his thighs and manhood exposed to the world, my attacker lowers himself to his knees. His focus is so singularly on what he can take from me that he misses the way my arms tense before the steel slides cleanly into his abdomen. He screams, panic overtaking his cruel demeanor as he realizes what I’ve done.
Using the daggers still buried in his sides as leverage, I twist, sending him toppling to the ground as I scramble to my feet, ripping my blades from his meaty flesh as I move.
“CUNT!” he roars.
Anyone in at least a mile radius now knows where we are, and if he’s traveling with a pack of Deliverers, they’ll be here soon. My attacker tries to stand, thick red blood pouring from his gaping wounds as falls back to his knees.
Realization crosses his face when he pulls his hand from his side and takes in the color of the blood that coats his pale fingers. Even if I allow him to crawl away from here, he’ll die soon. Even a piece of shit chosen by War herself can’t live with a punctured bowel.
Using the thick vegetation, I wipe his filthy blood from my blades and sheathe them. The darkness inside me doesn’t justwant to skewer the bastard. No, I want to make him pay first, regardless of who else might be coming.
I crouch in the shadows, taunting the man with the quick death he now begs for. But I won’t grant it to him.
I want him to be afraid.
I want him to beg me to stop.
I want him to feel powerless.
And I’ll take down anyone who tries to come to his aid.
My eyes slam shut as power rushes back into my body. I wobble, gulping down air as if I’ve been deprived of it my entire life until my heart rate steadies. I flatten my palms on the ground and feel the soil rumble slightly under my command.
When my eyes open again, they trail upwards from the toes of two black boots until I meet Cal’s onyx-filled gaze. Every muscle in his tanned arm pulls tight as he holds the bleeding man around the neck, his chokehold cutting off what little breath the dying man can manage. Bright red blood trickles from the corners of my attacker’s mouth on its journey to join the puddles soaking the ground.
I’ve seen the menacing flash of black in his eyes before but in this state, with his pupils blown wide and his face contorted in a calm rage, he’s barely a man at all. Strange power ripples through me as Cal lets out a low, possessive growl and tightens his grip on the dying man.
“Release him,” I command, emboldened by magic.
“Are you hurt?” Cal asks through clenched teeth, never taking his eyes from mine even as the man withers in his hold.
“No.” I shake my head, raising my arms in slow, deliberate reassurance.
“Then leave, Ivy. I’m going to rip his limbs off one by one.”
He tosses the man into a bloody heap on the forest floor, cracking his knuckles in preparation to carry out his threat.
“The only one doling out punishments today is me.”
Cal freezes at my declaration, pivoting his head to me as the black in his irises recedes slightly. A dangerous, prideful smile pulls at the corners of his lips as he motions to the nearly-lifeless man below him.
“Then come take your kill, princess.”
I unsheathe a single dagger as I stalk towards him, only needing one for the death I plan to deliver.
Using the toe of my boot, I force the man’s slumped shoulders flat to the ground, giving him the same respect I would a piece rotten trash in the streets. Fitting for this scum.
Slowly, I lower myself over him, forcing my knees to press deep into his open wounds.
“Look at me,” I command, my voice not wholly my own.
His eyes snap to my face, the last face he’ll ever see before he meets Death.
