Forsaken: The Chosen Trilogy - Book One

Chapter Thirteen: Part Two

KRYSSA

I woke to familiar agony, dim lights, and hushed, angry voices. I thought I almost recognized the shadows surrounding me, and I struggled to turn my head, peering groggily around the room. I was lying on my stomach, and every movement I made sent lances of fire racing down my tortured back.

Cool hands touched my face, gentle but firm; someone spoke calmly in female tones. I couldn't understand the words, but grasped their meaning: lie still.

I reached out toward my brother. Brannyn?

Here. His brilliant red was muted with exhaustion.

Pain threatened to drown me again at any moment. Where?

The Crone's. You're- you're hurt.

Others?

Fine.

Memory nudged me, something unclear, something I had seen before giving in to the pain. Reyce?

Hesitation. The... episode... seems to be over.

Episode? Confused, I tried again to move, and was held in place. What?

Later. You need to rest.

The question hovered between us, dreadful and daunting, but I forced myself to ask. Father?

Dead. He said it flatly, the implication enough to stun me. I could sense the confused whirl of his emotions for just a brief moment before he blocked me out. The monster has been slain; our concern now must remain only for the living.

Something touched my back, searing my skin, and I convulsed, screaming, everything else lost from my mind. Lanya's golden touch surrounded me, trying to shield me. I felt ashamed, knowing I should be the one protecting her, but I couldn't focus my thoughts enough to even try.

Burning, and I screamed again.

It seemed all my world was agony. I whimpered, helpless, my cries hoarse and pitiful as the pieces of my shirt were pulled from tattered flesh.

Something cool was pressed to my lips; a few drops of heavenly liquid splashed onto my tongue. It tasted of poppies and starlight, warming me, calming me, making me forget my hurt and my heartache. I smiled, the pain receding, and opened my eyes to stare up at Lanya, her hair a golden halo in the firelight. What was that?

The potion the Crone used to give Father. She only gave you a small amount, for the pain.

The potion- Something was wrong, I could feel it, beneath the clouds spinning through my mind. Something I had forgotten, something terrible, the awful price of drinking a potion to forget-

Kryssa? I heard her concern, worried for the strain in my mind as my emotions overflowed into her.

What had I forgotten? It was so important-

Kryssa, it's alright-

The potion Father took. The Crone's eyes, guilt-stricken. Will you honor our arrangement, Malachi?

I thrashed, reaching out blindly. Someone spoke sharply, their words incomprehensible, their meaning clear. It did not matter. My hand caught the wrist of the Crone, and, without knowing how I was able, I forced myself inside her mind. She had never trained to shield her thoughts as we had, and so she was unable to prevent my abrupt intrusion into her disturbing secrets.

I found her sadness and guilt for the death of Malachi, and Janis, and my mother, and many more, a long list of ghosts she grieved for, cursing the Gods for taking them. Twining through that grief, subtle and treacherous, was her fear: fear of pain, of death, of Ca'erlyssa, of Sirius and all that came with the ending of her life. I followed that fear, and found darkness. I saw glowing red eyes in the shadows, a silhouette of something too tall and disproportioned to be human. I saw her memories of worshipping the fallen Elder Gods, those corrupted, wicked beings whose mere mention was blasphemy, performing acts so profane I thought I would go mad from mere knowledge of them. And, in return, they had offered her what she wanted most, at the cost of her soul: immortality.

That was why she had needed the twins. Not as slaves, as I had thought, but as vessels. She had planned to murder Kylee and inhabit her body, then use Alyxen to sustain it by feeding off of him. She was going to become something other than human, something monstrous, to escape her fear of death and pain.

I fought through my horror and found my rage, tearing through the Crone's mind. I didn't care about her guilt or fear or regret, thinking only of my family. I would rip these memories from her, take her mind from her, leave her hollow and empty and alone, unable to hurt any of us ever again.

I would destroy her.

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The story ontinues in Part Two! Pick up your copy on Amazon today to read the rest of the exciting tale of the Rose family!