𝔸 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕎𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕙 (Book 2)

Fifty-Seven

The Attor screamed such an unholy sound I wondered if the dark gods themselves heard it from the underworld. Its hands released me almost immediately as it stumbled back and away from me. I turned around, ready to finish what I'd started.

Its skin was a monstrosity of burnt and bloody flesh, so far gone that white bone peered from below muscle. It almost looked as though its skin was melting from its body, extending from its arms all the way to its torso.

I couldn't help but think it was one of the more beautiful sights I'd seen.

Art. My art.

And Cauldron, it felt good.

Felt euphoric to feel in control again. To no longer feel weak even for a moment. I was no longer shattered. No, I was a blade. A sword of glass. 

I smiled at the creature in front of me, its screams like a melody, Its pain like a drug. I stalked toward the creature, watching as it backed away in fear, only to find a large oak tree behind it. Its eyes spiked with something akin to terror, some distant part of me wondered if it was me that made it so scared. I hoped it was.

I wanted to see its blood drip to the snow, staining it forever red. What a beautiful sight it would be. I sighed, reaching a hand up and watching as white flame trailed through my hand like a snake of my own making.

I gripped the Attors neck watching as a sole tear slipped from its eye, a serpentine smile spread across my features once more. "Oh, how I'll enjoy ripping you to shreds," I said, applying a little more pressure to my hand as my power snaked down my arm and toward the creature.

"Wait," a voice said behind me. I Didn't care. I didn't want to wait. I wanted it to suffer, just like I had, just like my family had. That's the least it deserved.

I tightened my grip, watching as it began to squirm.

A hand gripped my shoulder, "Stop," I didn't. The Attor started to scream again.

Like ice-cold water hitting my skin, a burst of dark power slid through my bones. A dose of reality hit me, and my hand slipped from the Attors neck of its own accord.

I turned to the person beside me, seething, "Why would you stop me?" I yelled.

Rhys's eyes widened as he saw me fully. His brows furrowed, but I didn't care. I was angry. Those little Hybernian minions had done so much to me, to him, to my sister. I wanted to kill them. Who was he to stop me?

He raised his chin, suddenly looking like the High Lord so many believed him to be, "We need to question it." was all he deigned to say.

There was no point in arguing with him. He would win. He was a High Lord, while I was just one of his subjects.

Once again, I had lost control.

Rhysand turned to the Attor, his hands stuffed into his pockets. "I'd been wondering where you slithered off to."

The Attor panted, clutching its burned flesh against its body like a baby. I smiled again.

Rhys, to my pleasant surprise, sent two spears of night shooting into its wings. The Attor shrieked again, sinking deeper into the tree behind it.

    "Answer my questions, and you can crawl back to your master," Rhys said as if it were plain old chit-chat. He could promise all he wanted. But I'd gut the Attor like the ilk it was before I ever let it go back to Hybern.

    "Whore," The Attor hissed as its blood dripped to the snow. Another scorching burst of anger ripped its way through me.

    Rhys smiled, "You forget that I rather enjoy these things," he said as he lifted a finger.