Chapter 51

51

R hi

I tumble through the sky, spinning around and around like the green dragon earlier, the ground hurtling far too quickly towards me.

I’m going to die. Just like that dragon. If I hit the ground, I die.

I’m not ready to die. Not yet. Not like this. If I die, I’m dying in the arms of my fated mates. Not on the ground in some field far from everyone.

I scrabble with my magic, attempting to save myself.

But what can I do? I can’t grow wings. I’m too low for a parachute. And no magical has ever been able to make themselves fly. The only thing I can do is to slow my descent and cushion the blow. Despite how dizzy I am, my emotions spinning along with my body, I find a way, focusing all my magic and all my attention .

The ground still comes, hard towards me, but slower now, a little slower, and when I hit, though it hurts – it hurts a fucking a lot – I’m still here, a pile of flesh and bones, still breathing, heart still pumping, brain still thinking. I’m not so sure about my body though. Is it still working? I wiggle a toe and then a finger and then I run through my body, each limb, each part of my torso, for signs of damage.

My arm doesn’t feel right. It’s bent behind me at a strange angle and when I move it, pain screeches through my entire body.

Fortunately, it’s the only damage I can find and, hopefully, an injury I can heal myself. With my uninjured hand beneath me, I roll over, more hurt screaming through my body, and open my eyes.

Open my eyes and find Christopher Kennedy towering above me.

His face swims in and out of focus. I’m way more woozy than I realized. From the pain. From the fall. From everything.

But I’m stronger now. Stronger than him. With my fated mates by my side, I’m stronger than anyone. This is my chance. My chance to take him out. But the pain and the throb in my head are too much. I can’t find the concentration I need to use my magic.

“Ahhh, I thought fate was meant to be on your side, Pig Girl. And yet it looks like she’s landed you right in my lap. It seems that silly little prophecy everyone’s gotten so worked up about is wrong. Or maybe it just never applied to you in the first place. Because it seems I am destined to rule, not you,” he says, an unpleasant smile on his lips, his dark eyes glittering with amusement. He senses I’m weakened. Weakened and far from anyone who could or would help me. His eyes flicker over my form. “Do you surrender? Have you had enough ?”

Enough?

That final word triggers something in my mind. Of a night long ago. A star-lit night in the meadow back home. A star-lit night when magic had buzzed in the air like fireflies and the man in black, his eyes dark with wonder, his cape bristling in the breeze, had towered over me too. A night when this story – my story – had begun.

I hadn’t surrendered then. Hadn’t given up. Even though I was winded and hungry, my magic much weaker than his. Even though I was an unregistered girl with no formal training, no real understanding of the world I was hiding from.

I hadn’t given in.

I haven’t come this far, endured all I have, to give in now.

No fucking way.

“Enough? No freaking way. I’ve only just gotten started,” I hiss and then, just like I did all those months ago, just like I did in that meadow, just like I did with the man in black, I kick out Christopher Kennedy’s legs from underneath him and watch as he sways on his feet and then crashes to the ground. I’m up on mine, despite the pain shooting from my useless arm, and then it’s me towering over him, my good arm stretched out in front of me.

Magic sizzles on my fingertips, light and dark. Light and dark together.

“You killed my mom,” I say calmly.

“I’ve killed many people, Pig Girl,” he says calmly, like he doesn’t believe I’ll actually harm him. “Care to jog my memory?”

“Bronwyn.”

“Ahhh, the seer. Yes, of course. The gift of fortune telling can be both a benefit and a nuisance. Beneficial while we could see how things between us and the West would go. A nuisance when she saw my rise to the top. I couldn’t let her live then. Couldn’t let her tell others of the plans, and the deals, the corruption, and all the general unpleasantness it would take to ensure I earned my place ruling this country.”

“The chancellor said a dark magical killed her.”

“It’s what I told him,” he smiles. “And it was only half a lie. Just like you, Pig Girl, I have both dark and light magic inside me. Surely, you’ve understood as much,” he says, his eyes drifting up to that gray cloud that lingers over our heads. “Of course, I have been much better at hiding it than you have. Although, I have no need to hide it any longer.”

I scoff. “We are not the same. You know nothing about me.”

“Oh, I know more than you think. All those little insights my son divulged when he was pumped full of drugs. It was most illuminating.”

“You tortured him,” I say, stepping towards him. “I’ve felt the wounds inside him.”

“I was teaching him,” he snaps. “Making him the man he should be.”

“I’m going to make sure you never hurt anyone ever again!” I say, my magic soaring through my body. This is it. My moment.

“What are you going to do? Kill me?” he sneers and then he fires his magic my way, right at me. It’s what I expected. What I knew he’d do. And I am ready.

My magic soars through my body, more strong and more powerful than it’s ever been. The dark and the light mixing together. It hits Christopher Kennedy’s magic head on and then with all my might and my power, though it chills me to the bone, though it sickens me to the stomach, I pull his magic towards me, all of it, all he’s firing at me and all he’s holding back.

I drain his magic. I drain all his magic from his body, taking it inside me.

Immediately that darkness lifts. Sunshine breaks through the gray clouds, illuminating us both.

I fall to my knees. His magic is like a poison in my body; I retch, spitting bile onto the grass.

“What have you done?” I hear him screech. “What have you done you stupid girl? My magic! My magic! It’s gone! Gone!”

“I drained it,” I hear myself say, collapsing onto the floor, the grass soft against my cheek. “I guess you didn’t know everything about me, after all. My father – the Black Prince – was a Nosferatu. Oh, and by the way, I’ve no interest in ruling anywhere.”

“No!” he screams, and I feel his fists gripping my sweater, shaking my body. But I’m drifting away, drifting into the abyss.