Fury | Nyx Archeron

Chapter One

lately i've been dressing for revenge

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Her teeth pierced through her lower lip, fingernails scrambling against timber as she fought to throw him off, to do something—anything that would save her without reaching for that dark well of power inside her.

'No one can ever know'. She'd lived by those words, instilled in her since she was a child. Day in, day out she kept a tight leash on her power, to respect her mother if nothing else. But she was still a child really and her mother was gone and if this—all of this was the cost—it was too high. She had already lost her mother. She would not lose her wings.

Darkness lashed out at the same time as his dagger, taking his vision and forcing itself into his throat - suffocating him. Her power followed; destruction unrestrained by any siphon. There was a scream as he died and then a sob and it was only after his body dropped to the floor that she realised that sound was coming from her.

Tessa shot upright, eyes wide and panting for breath as she reeled from the nightmare. Not a nightmare, her brain reminded her, a memory. The sheets pooled around her hips as she shook, arching her wings around herself so she could run her fingers along the rippling scar, assuring herself the tendon was intact. She was ok. She survived.

"You're fine. You survived. You're fine. You survived." She murmured it quietly like a mantra, running her thumb over the scar tissue.

She shifted her legs off the side of the bed and let her feet fall flat on the floor. Inhale, one, two three, four, five, six, exhale. Inhale, one, two, three, four, five, six, exhale. She focused on her breathing, feeling her mind still and body loosen up.

I am the rock against which the surf crashes.

Slowly she opened her eyes. "I am an immovable object. I am a force to be reckoned with." She murmured to herself even as her throat tightened and tears stung her eyes. Finally she stood and made her way to the washroom. Dawn was already breaking, she may as well get her leathers on and start her exercises early, at least then her mind might remain clear.

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By mid-morning Tessa could feel a headache beginning to pull behind her eyes. Not unusual when she'd had to deal with Devlon. He wanted a number of siphons made in the next week for his warriors and as per usual he wasn't polite about it. Honestly, maybe they should refrain from using them so much in their training if they were burning through them so quickly.

Like everyone else in Windhaven, the old war lord couldn't stand the fact that a female was the one running this workshop and supplying the warriors with the tools they desperately needed to channel their magic. Unfortunately for Devlon it wasn't as simple as whacking a stone on some steel and hoping for the best—and none of the males here had a clue how to craft them.

As much as he abhorred the fact that their tools—their weapons, essentially—were created (and therefore touched) by a female, there was nothing he could do about it. It wasn't as if he could ask one of the other camps to apprentice a male to their smiths; they would simply laugh in his face. Aside from the fact that his pride would never consider it, the war camps still feuded and the other lords would rather see Windhaven collapse on itself than offer a helping hand. It brought Tessa a vindictive joy just thinking of the lord of Ironcrest's reaction should Devlon ever ask.