Page 61 of A Storm of Fire and Ash
Maybe I was going crazy.
“Be brave and fear not. In the darkest hour, your spirit shines the brightest. Get through this, and then find me.”He growled.
“Who are you? Where are you? Wh-what are you?”I suddenly asked, unsure who I was talking to and if this was some trick of the Kings. I knew it wasn’t human or Worlock.
He didn’t answer back.
“Elara Peachwood,” the King said as he stepped closer, his towering figure cast a long shadow that enveloped me in darkness. “You are to receive twenty lashes for your attempted murder of one of my guards and for your precious Prince’s empty threats.”
My heart raced, and fear surged through me as I realized the gravity of my situation.
My shirt was then cut from my back—the blade touched my skin as the fabric tore. “Do you wish to say anything before your punishment begins?” King Aymon said.
Rage coursed through me like a wildfire, igniting every corner of my being.
“Go. To. Hel,” I spat, each word laced with venom and disdain.
Makar and Eryn’s eyes went wide, but my grin grew wider. I didn’t know who this woman was, but I was pissed.
The King—a sinister grin spread across his face— chuckled softly, as if my anger was nothing more than an amusing spectacle.
His shadow moved, and I heard the sound of the whip crack before I felt the pain.
I didn’t have time to brace.
The first strike landed. A searing stripe of fire tore across my upper back, cutting through my flesh like a blade dipped in boiling water. My body jerked forward instinctively, but the cuffs held my wrists tightly. I took a gasping breath, my lungs filled with air, as my mouth opened in a silent scream. Then the sound came, a raw, ragged gasp that cracked in my throat.
The King got down on my level and grabbed my chin harshly as he gritted, “What was that? I didn’t hear you.”
A deep, animalistic growl that was not me filled my mind.
“Fuck. You.” I gritted my teeth, then spat in his face.
I blinked back tears and forced a smile. My magic boiled, but I kept it locked down.
The King made a clicking sound with his mouth as he wiped my saliva off his face and gripped my jaw tighter with his other hand.
I knew I shouldn’t’ve done any of that, but I was already being punished, so why not?
“You’re going to wish you never did that,” the King said, releasing his grip, causing my head to jerk back as he stood up with the whip in hand.
“I will kill him. Strength lies not in the absence of fear, but in facing it head-on. Stand tall, Flameborn.”His voice had an almost angry tone, giving it an otherworldly quality. I don’t know how he got past my shields, but I didn’t have time to think about that.
Stand tall.I repeated the words in my head.
I stood up with shaky legs and looked up at the King. He laughed, “Such a brave, stupid whore you are! Gavrin, move. I’ll be finishing her lashings,” he barked at him.
I would not shed a single tear for that malevolent man who reveled in my suffering. His twisted satisfaction hadbeen evident in the wicked gleam of his eyes, a perverse enjoyment that had ignited a fire within me.
I knew then—I was going to kill this motherfucker.
I had found myself speaking in a voice unfamiliar, laden with a fury that surged through every fiber of my being.
“You will burn for this!” I declared, my words cutting through the charged air like a warrior.Each syllable had been thick with anger as I made my vow to the King, my resolve unbending. I leaned forward, my disdain evident, and spat on him again, this time on his feet—the act a defiant symbol of my contempt.
The King’s jaw ticked, and I saw the fury in his eyes.
“N-NO! Stop!” Fintan gasped from behind me. Fury now laced his tone. “You fucking coward! I’ll kill you!”
