Page 114 of Fury of the Bound
The familiar creature scrambles up and bolts out of the dungeon, vanishing down the halls. Vespera's gaze cuts back to me, and her eyes are like looking into the abyss.
“You shouldn’t have this magic.”
She's not exactly wrong. Someone like me shouldn't have this power, but I never messed with dark magic like she has. I never asked to be like this.
I hold her stare, tightening my grip on the magic surrounding her. “Unfortunately for you… I do.”
I reach deeper, pulling hard on the bond with Xarothar, forcing the magic tighter around her form, holding her feels likegripping smoke laced with glass. Her darkness twists against me, attacking my control.
Kieran’s bloodied hand clamps around mine. “Look at me.”
I don’t, I just push harder.
I push the magic straight into her and I feel it all.
Darkness. Rotten, endless…alive inside her. Crawling up my power like it means to devour me.
Through the pain, the chaos, I can finally sense him.Malrik.
He’s here, standing in front of me—his red eyes locked on mine, burning with a wild and dangerous intensity. I know he wants to pull me out of the mess I'm in, but we have a plan, and fortunately, this man is willing to do anything I ask.
Twisting my magic, I send a shadowed tendril curling up Vespera's nose, sliding behind her eyes. Her head snaps up, a strangled sound ripping from her lips as darkness blinds her—seconds, that’s all I’ve got.
“Temptress. Eyes on me.”
I bite down a groan, glancing his way. Every nerve screams, every muscle strains as I hold the guards, the hunters, and Vespera herself in my grip.
“Focus on me.” Kieran’s voice snaps.
I suck in a shaky breath, and it hurts.
By the stars, it hurts.
His grey eyes bore into mine, hands framing my face as he looms over me, and I feel somewhat protected by him. My eyes catch on the scar cutting across his face. It’s the first thing I see, but it’s not a flaw. It's him.
“He’s done. Now let go, Raven.”
The scream rips from me before I can stop it, a sound that tears through the air as lightning explodes around us. The walls shake. The ground splits. Kieran’s expression twists with fear as he wipes under my eyes, trying to keep me concentrating on him, but I can’t.
Everything around me blurs—too much magic, too much everything. But through the fog, I spotted him.
Darian.
Standing at the top of the stairs, just outside the doors.
No. He can’t come in here, she can’t know. I shake my head, forcing the silent warning toward him. And then—my power snaps.
It rips the air from my lungs, like plunging into ice water. I’m weightless. Falling. Kieran's hand slips away as we’re thrown back—and then I’m caught. I have no idea who. My world tilts sideways, the room darkening, colours bleeding red, the sharp tang of blood and honey hitting my nose.
“Don’t you dare die on me, little witch… if you do, you’re dragging me straight to hell with you.”
The voice slices through the haze—rough, furious, unmistakably Malrik—but it feels miles away. Something presses to my lips, and before I can stop it, a bitter, burning taste slides across my tongue, crawling down my throat and igniting every nerve, every cell, like fire waking inside me.
It burns.
God, it burns.
A sound tears out of me—raw, jagged, nothing human. Nothing like me.
