Page 101 of Vengeance Becomes Her

“I think you’ve underestimated me. You have no idea what I’ve gone through to get here. I may have lived, but the Rhiannon you knew is long gone. I’ve bled and scraped my way back to you. I am a monster of your making.” She held his gaze. “The first chance I get, I’m going to make you suffer. I’ll take pleasure in your pain. And you only have yourself to blame.”

“Don’t tempt me. I’d love nothing more than to see you try and fail. To see you crawl and beg at my feet for your life like you did all those months ago. It was a beautiful thing, your desperation.”

“Fuck you,” she spat.

“What fun we could have with that wicked tongue of yours”

“I’d sooner let you cut it out.”

“That could also be fun.”

“Your threats don’t scare me. Cut me. Starve me. Torture me. You won’t break me.Not this time.”

“I disagree. But it’s not time yet.”

“What are you waiting for? I’m growing tired of your antics. You have me here. Alone. Restrained. Why not kill me right now?”

“You know I’ve always liked to build the anticipation.” He smirkedat her disgust.

“I think you can’t kill me. I don’t think it will let you.” She cocked her head, assessing him more closely. “You’re not as in control as you once were, you said it yourself. I don’t think it’ll let you dispose of me so easily.”

Shadows gathered in his palm as he reached for her, hovering over her heart. “Do you want to test that theory?”

Her heart stuttered. Panic flooded her system as she waited for the pain she expected to follow. But instead, Silas froze, his face contorting in pain.

He threw his head back, his neck whipping back and forth unnaturally.

“Silas?” Concern laced her voice. Not for him, but for what she feared would happen next.

“Shut. Up,” he gritted out, pressing his palms to the side of his head in pain.

A beat of silence, then the candles blew out all at once. Cloaking them both in darkness.

“You would dare take what is mine.” An ancient voice filled the room. She knew that voice. It was the voice from the woods. It was the voice of the Volskruga.

Silence.

“You’re a coward. You always were.” The voice drifted around the room, everywhere at once. “And you wonder why I no longer have need of you.”

She heard feet running toward her. Red eyes suddenly too close. The sound of a blade freed from a sheath. Then a guttural cry.

The candles flicked to life once again. Brighter than before. She blinked against the sudden light.

Silas was standing before her. But it wasn’t Silas. His catlike grace was replaced by unnatural movement and cracking joints as a force much larger than anything that could be contained by a human body tried to force its way into his form.

“Rhiannon.” The familiarity in its voice sent a shiver down her spine. “I do apologize. Silas is having a hard time accepting his fate, but I am here to welcome you. Do not doubt that you are wanted.” It rolled Silas’ neck. “Are you ready?”

“I won’t take Silas’ place.”

“You haven’t even heard my offer.”

The way the words swam threw her ears and drifted over her skin was tantalizing. The power seducing her. But she was stronger than that.

“I don’t need to. I belong to myself and myself alone.”

“Rhiannon, Rhiannon, Rhiannon…” it tsked. “I can give you what you crave.” It inhaled deeply, as if it could smell her deepest desires from her essence alone.

“Power.” Invisible hands slinked up her back.

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