Page 90 of Slay Me

“Any last words?” I ask him.

“You don’t have what it takes to kill me, and you know it,” he yells.

But I’m lost to the rage.

Drunk on the power.

The wind grows stronger, whipping at him until his clothes are shredded from his body.

“How does it feel to be exposed to the world?” I question as I cross over to the grassy patch at the base of the building and pull a handful of small, green blades, before stalking back over to where he lies.

My gaze lands on Dante, still unconscious, Killian kneeling beside him.

“Fucking wind bitch. I should have finished you off years ago,” he snarls. “You weren’t worth it.”

I turn to face him. “Your mistake.” My magic surrounds me as I release the blades of grass. They float in the air, turning in a slow circle before I send them flying toward him—tiny daggers, and still, they’ll only inflict a portion of the pain he’s caused me.

He thrashes and screams as they rip at him, embedding beneath his skin.

“Not enough magic to conjure a breeze?” I scream, raising my hands as wind whips at me. It wraps around his body, raising him up before I slam him back down. Bones snap, and he screams louder.

“Stop! Liv! Fucking stop!” he screams.

My power grows, stoked by my pain. His skin is slick with crimson, so saturated with it that I can no longer make out the natural pigment.

His body is raised again, then I rip him the fuck apart.

Limbs litter the sidewalk where we stood. It coats the grass at the base of the building.

“Fuck. You,” I snarl at what’s left.

“Damn, Liv.” Fiona rests her hand on my shoulder. “You’ve been holding out on us.”

“I don’t—” I trail off as the front door opens, and a sea of supernaturals come pouring out. Their bodies are coated in thin white powder I recognize all too well. Remnants of a prison they’ve been trapped in.

They gather around me, staring down at what’s left of their captor.

Some smile.

Cry.

Embrace each other.

And if I weren’t so fucking gut-wrenchingly broken, I might feel joy at their freedom. After all, no one knew what that captivity felt like better than me. But while they gained their lives, I lost my very reason for breathing.

Someone brushes a hand over my lower back. I turn, expecting it to be Fiona.

Instead, my gaze meets a copper one, and my heart stops.

“Fury magic, huh? I always knew you had it in you.”

A sob rips from my chest, and I throw my arms around Dante’s neck. He crushes me against him, and I wrap both legs around his waist as he claims my mouth. I take what he offers then give my own heat right back.

“I thought you were dead,” I whisper against his lips.

He kisses me again. “Dragons don’t go down that easily, love. We’re quite resilient.”

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