Page 13 of Vengeance Becomes Her

Endless darkness consuming everything.

The monstrous transformation of Silas and those snakes.

And then, everything faded to black.

The memories weren’t quite clear. The pieces were still coming together in fragments. Rhiannon was certain they’d spoken, but she couldn’t recall what about. She knew it was important though.

She pushed and pushed herself to call those memories forward well into the evening hours, but no clarity came. That night, sleep refused to come to her. Instead of drifting off to rest and dream, she tossed and turned in her sheets, the fabric becoming a source of irritation as she lay awake far too late.

Rhiannon couldn’t help but think that she hadn’t been his only victim. She could hope, but she wasn’t naive. She hoped the red-haired woman would come back to her. Maybe she could tell her more. She would just have to wait and see. For now, thatwas a dead end.

Her thoughts drifted back to Silas and the depth of his deception. She’d never forget the way it felt like her heart had physically fractured completely when she found his journal. The one he’d always held so close, he’d detailed his betrayal there. Day by day. What she’d built up in her mind as memorable moments of their relationship he’d ticked away as accomplishments in chipping away at her walls and bringing her closer and closer to falling for him.

She had never suspected he was anything but genuine. He’d done everything right to make her fall in love with him. The way he’d eagerly hung on her every word, seemingly starved for every morsel of detail she was willing to share about herself. His eyes bright with interest. When he’d asked about her dreams for the future, her greatest fears, and the things that she loved, he didn’t care. When he made note of the small gestures that made her smile or swoon, he hoarded them greedily to use against her. When he got to know every inch of her mind and body intimately, and the way he learned to satisfy her, it was all for his own gain.

As she stared into the orange flicker of the waning candle, her mind drifted back to all the nights she’d laid in this exact spot with Silas. He’d have her lean back against him and wrap his arms around her—keeping her close in his embrace—as he read to her from one of her books. Her skin prickled as she recalled the way he would lean forward just so, his lips gently tickling her ear as he spoke. She’d found his rich voice soothing, the words like velvet on his tongue. She felt foolish now, remembering how she’d light up with excitement when she’d see him waiting for her with a book and glass of wine before bed. Back then, she’d found it touching that he always offered without her asking, knowing it was her favorite pastime.

What she once interpreted as adoration, she now knew for what it really was; it had always been manipulation. She had unwittingly constructed the pyre on which he would eventually burn her.

Rhiannon suddenly felt exposed, her skin too raw, her mind ravaged, her entire being utterly used. He had taken everything and she let him.

With each thought, she dug herself deeper into a trench of despair.

Unbidden tears pricked at her eyes. They would not fall. Instead, she grasped for the rage that was lingering at the surface, clinging to it to pull herself out.

She brought her pillow to her face and screamed, letting out the pain and frustration that had been building inside her as the minutes passed. When she finally relaxed her grip on the pillow, her throat was raw and stinging.

Recalling those memories hurt more than she would have expected. Of course, she despised him now. But she had loved him not long ago and her heart betrayed her still.

Night after night, thoughts like these consumed her as she lay awake staring out the window at the starlit sky. She knew she wouldn’t find any answers in the stars, but they provided her a small comfort while she busied her mind with these dark thoughts.

Rhiannon had mourned the loss of the person she used to be. Someone who loved herself and her life. Now she hated what she’d become and had no life to speak of.

When she felt the sadness begin to rise, she told herself that if she was going to be anything else at his hand, she was grateful that she was this. Angry and bitter, enough so that she was going to do something about it.

She was done cowering and being afraid of the power he held. She would find her own power. She had lived through his attempt on her life. And now, she would live in spite of him. Even if she was a shell of herself, the parts that were left were sharp and venomous and she looked forward to showing him what she’d become.

She couldn’t wait to see the shock on his face when he was brought back to face trial for his crimes. She would be sitting right up front. The last thing he saw of the outside world would be her triumphant smile.

She might not know how she was going to do that yet, but she didn’t believe that he was invincible. Nothing was. Everything in nature was about balance, and Rhiannon was confident there was something out there that could help her even the scales against Silas.

Her mind was ready to do the work it would take to find a way to force him to take accountability, but her body, unfortunately, was not capable of leaving the grounds of their home. The toll his magic had taken on her physically would be unfathomable if she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes and felt it within her bones. She had not let anyone see her with the exception of her mother, sister, and the physician. Not even her closest friends. She couldn’t bear it.

Before, she had no problem lingering on her reflection. She’d loved the way her long hair cascaded down her back in rich brown waves that perfectly framed her full figure and shifted like a halo around her when she danced the night away. She’d smiled back at the spark behind her russet brown eyes. She’d appreciated her rounded cheeks that made her eyes crinkle slightly when she smiled widely. She’d basked in the warm glow of how her olive skin deepened under theafternoon sun.

Now, all of those qualities she’d loved about herself were gone. Her hair was no longer rich with color, but leached of any hues that would have made it beautiful. It no longer bounced when she moved, it hung there brittle and limp. Her eyes had grown haunted, empty and cold, a flat brown that lacked all luster. Her cheeks had hollowed out and her body felt frail. She wasn’t anywhere near thin, even with the withering quality of his magic, but she looked malnourished and weak compared to before. With all her time inside and weeks without sufficient nutrients,her skin had also paled significantly. It was now a sickly, unnatural color that was further washed out byher white hair.

The stranger looking back at her was a reminder of all that she’d lost.

In a fit of frustration when she had first seen her full reflection, she had thrown a vase at the mirror which now sat in jagged pieces. It only made the image staring back at her more disturbing so she had covered it with a sheet. These days, she avoided mirrors and tried not to think about it, there wasn’t much she could do to change it after all. Her body would heal when it was ready.

Once she had a solution for how to contend with his magic, she would be able to go to the town council and ask them to bring him to justice. She hoped they would see the validity of her case and send a bounty hunter after him to bring him back so he could be charged for his crimes. She was not so foolish to think her plan was infallible, the council rarely did anything about predatory men—especially those who didn’t reside in Oakhaven. But surely this was an extraordinary circumstance that should, at the very least, be granted aninvestigation.

In the meantime, she picked her brain for any and all knowledge that might be lingering there. She would keep at it, no matter how long it took. Her memories were stubborn, but so was she.

Rhiannon still couldn’t remember what they’d spoken about the day Silas left, but she had months’ worth of memories she could pick through. There might be some clue there that she was missing. A clue that could point her toward a weakness perhaps. She recalled mundane dinner conversations, days they’d spent shopping in town, and the nights they’d spent entwined together. The more she searched her memories, the more she realized how little Silas had revealed to her about himself. But there was one memory she uncovered that she thought might be worth deeper consideration.

There had been one time that Silas had become uncharacteristically angry. They’d gone to the spring festival together, spending hours sampling foods and buying trinkets from the visiting travelers who’d brought their goods to sell. Rhiannon remembered a woman who’d been selling tinctures and tonics for various ailments and medicinal needs. She’d stopped to purchase one to prevent conception since she’d run out, to which Silas hadn’t reacted well to. He’d been adamant about being cautious of witches who might trick you into drinking magical concoctions. Back then, she’d written it off as a Saldovan superstition, but it made sense now, that he’d be projecting his deception onto others. Or maybe therewas more to it.

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