Page 47 of A Tale of Treachery

But it was too late to stop what happened next.

A small but deadly spell rushed through the rupture, hitting me with a forceful blow. The blast sent my body flying backward and crashing into the dirt, my shield withering to nothing. I reached up and grasped my neck, noticing the small cut that had formed. Blood trickled over my fingertips, and I put pressure on the wound.

It was Eulalia who’d hit me, with a force that should have been fatal. It would have been fatal if my magic hadn’t deflected most of her spell.

I locked eyes with her, and I could see her pain and anger.

She wanted me dead.

My heart cracked in two.

My despair was short-lived and quickly replaced with rage. How could she? After everything the two of us had gone through.

Wrath as I’d never felt flowed through my body, and I rose to one knee in the dirt, my teeth bared at the witches surrounding me. And all at once, I finally gave in to my magic, letting my own brand of wickedness wash over me. I reached out and pulled from their magic, drawing it into myself and leaving them defenseless.

The witches’ magic sputtered out as they tried to cast more spells at me, the bright waves sparking into nothingness. Their spells—their magic—were all mine now.

Eulalia’s brow furrowed when she realized I was siphoning what belonged to them, and she backed up a step, only to be grasped on the wrist by little Matilda, who stood on her toes. She whispered into Eulalia’s ear, and whatever the small seer said to Eulalia made her face drop. The two of them halted and kept their frozen gazes locked on mine.

“Stop! Stop now!” Eulalia frantically shouted at the others, waving her hands in the air. But they refused to let me go.

Pathetic spell after spell was thrown at me, only to be absorbed by my magic. It was a rush, stealing what didn’t belong to me, but the power was too much for me to take. My body couldn’t handle the flood in my veins.

Still on my knees, I cried out. Something was happening within me, something I couldn’t stop. Pain washed over me, and blood trickled from my mouth as something poked through my gumline, cutting and vicious. I reached up, feeling a sharp point form behind my lips.

Fangs.

My fingernails turned to claws, cutting like daggers against the earth, and my vision blurred. I shut my eyes tightly, lifting my palms to rub at them and clear my sight, careful not to cut my face in the process.

When I opened my eyes, everything had changed. The forest that had once been dark and sparsely lit by the stars suddenly turned crystal clear, illuminating the world in a glowing haze. And I could see so far—deep into the forest—with a clarity that shouldn’t be possible. I glanced at the witches, their faces filled with uncertainty and terror.

They should be afraid.

I heard a loud “No!” shouted from deep within the forest, and my head whipped to the direction of the voice. A man who sounded as if his world was being burned to embers. I squinted, straining to see what had caused the commotion, and spotted a broad man standing over a limp body, his posture imposing and protective.

Ryken.

He was towering over the body of his friend Fin, his chest heaving like he’d exerted a great effort in knocking out his buddy. Why he would hurt Fin, I didn’t know, but a smirk spread across my lips as our eyes met. I knew he’d followed me, or at least suspected as much. The cautious footsteps and crackling leaves in my wake on the way here had been a dead giveaway.

My humor was utterly inappropriate and short-lived, as my awareness of the situation returned. But I wasn’t exactly myself, either.

A searing pain arched across my shoulder blades, and I buckled beneath the crippling agony that blazed in my back. Something seemed to be clawing its way from beneath my skin.

I let out a scream that tore through the night sky. And with that scream, an uncontrollable blast of magic exploded from my core, hitting the witches and sending them soaring through the air. A ringing in my ears muffled the thud of their bodies hitting the ground. The ringing grew louder, along with the overwhelming pain that clawed at my shoulder blades.

I grunted and fell to the ground, hugging my shoulders and curling into a knot. The painful torment of my back shredding was the only thing on my mind.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I gasped for air, whimpering as I rocked back and forth. Everything had gone quiet, including the witches. I could only hope and pray that they were still alive, but my mind could hardly focus through the pain long enough for me to check.

A pair of black leather boots entered my line of sight, and a male towered over me.

“Your eyes are black,” Ryken stated simply, as if my world hadn’t just fallen apart. As if he were merely an observer of the carnage that had been sown.

I looked up at him and whimpered, silently begging him to help me somehow, unable to put the thought into words.

Ryken dropped down with a resigned grunt, crossing his legs and pulling my body into his arms in a tight hold. “Remember what we did before?” He put a hand on my chest, and his lips grazed the top of my scalp. He whispered, “Breathe in.” I did so, gasping for air. “Now breathe out.”

We repeated the process for what seemed like hours, him holding me and instructing me to breathe. Slowly, the pain in my shoulder blades diminished, and my vision shifted back to normal. I melted into his hold as the sharp teeth pricking my lips suddenly disappeared into my gumline.

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