Dance of Fate

Chapter Fourteen

The crack of a whip sounded in the air, and I flinched before it hit my bare back. I could do nothing but grit my teeth and bite back my scream as the ash tipped whip slashed over my skin, squeezing my eyes shut against the agonizing pain that I knew all too well.

I had given up struggling against the heavy chains that were wrapped around my wrists and ankles about ten lashes ago. It only caused even more pain, and I had no energy left in me to fight back.

From behind me, Amarantha laughed, the sound almost as horrifying as that of the whip itself. She laughed again, even louder than before, and it only enhanced the overwhelming feeling of being helpless. Useless. Weak.

"Look at me," Amarantha hissed, her voice a haunting, venomous lullaby that made a violent shiver run down my spine. "Look at me." She repeated.

I forced myself to look over my shoulder, my head spinning with the effort that it took to make the small movement. But when I did, I froze.

Because staring back at me, were no longer Amarantha's merciless black eyes. Instead, I faced the mirror of my own.

My father smiled at me, raising the whip in the air, an image I had seen too many times before. I instinctively ducked my head between my arms, waiting for the whip to meet my already bloody and broken skin. And it did. Again, and again, and again.

"You're worthless," Another lash. "All you will ever be is a weapon." Another lash. "A monster, unworthy of love."

I snapped my eyes open, nothing but darkness in my vision. I instantly knew it was a dream- and yet I could still hear the voices in my head, could still feel the relentless ash whip snapping against my skin. I struggled against the urge to touch my hand to my back, where the scars of the lashes both Amarantha and my father had inflicted on me years ago lingered. I knew it was a dream, and yet the affliction had felt so utterly real, the pain of each lash greater than the last, burning and burning with more intensity until it felt like flames were dancing on my skin. I knew it had been a dream, and yet when I closed my eyes I could see nothing but my fathers malevolent eyes glinting in the light, staring at me like I was the core of everything that was evil and destructive in this world. 

Monster.

Before I could take another breath, my power ignited without so much as a warning, and I didn't have the chance to try to hold it down.

A purple blast exploded from my chest, and all I could do was shield my face with my hands as it ricocheted off the wall, before crashing into the large bookshelf that stood opposite my bed. The shelf was enveloped in purple light and for a moment I feared it might catch on fire like my sword had the other day- but then it was gone, the black mist that slowly fell to the floor the only indication that it had ever been there.

I loosed a shaky breath, my heartbeat echoing thunderously in my ears. I didn't move, didn't dare make a sound, my eyes pinned on where the dresser had been moments ago. 

I felt my power start to rise again, so I grit my teeth and pushed it down with all my strength. It caused a sharp pain to flash in my head, and my muscles grew sore, the pain as great as if I had just climbed up the ten thousand steps of the House of Wind. 

Thankfully, it seemed no one had sensed the outburst, because no one came to check what had happened in the five minutes following the event, during which I only stared at the black mist littering the floor. But I knew this couldn't happen again. Between what had happened with Cassian, and now this... it was only a matter of time before I hurt someone.

I hadn't been able to come up with any solution other than Faebane. It wouldn't be a permanent fix, but I needed to do something. I would have to be careful that no one found out- surely the others would think this was a stupid idea. To be fair, it was.