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Chapter 42

"I WON"T LET YOU KILLhim," Bella said, gathering magic in her hands. Her voice shook but she was determined to stand and make Gastone proud.

The man frowned, lifting his own hands up and palms out, no magic shimmering on them. He was a regular human then, but still she didn"t relax. He was a big brute of a man, and she"d been overcome by his type before.

"We"re not going to hurt him. We"re going to arrest him, heal him, and put him on trial for all the treachery he"s caused this–"

A gurgling sound echoed behind her, and Bella looked over her shoulder again. Another barefoot man stood behind Gastone, his dagger drawing away from her husband. The king gargled, spitting bloody froth and phlegm as his hands came up to his neck.

Bella screamed, but the blood didn"t stop. She threw her hands up to send healing his way, the shocking horror slamming into her full force.

Gastone tripped to the left, saw his attacker, and threw out a hand. He burst into flames, sending sparks of blue and crimson hellfire out of the Robin.

The explosion hit Bella like a wave of heat from the fireplace, and she stumbled back a step. The attacker screamed, beating at his face. The other Robin shouted and jumped forward to help his compatriot.

Bella threw out her hand, tripping him with the rug as it jerked under his feet. The blazing attacker should die for his treason, and she would not let him stand in the way.

At the movement, the king turned, one hand on his throat, the other bloody hand rising shakily with flickering sparks on his palms. He glared with wild eyes at the other Robin, prepared to burn him alive too.

Bella trembled, fear flashing through her mind as she ducked. Fire shot through the room from Gastone as he slid to his knees. She choked on the fear like a fist down the throat as the burning attacker fell onto her bed.

He had slit the king"s throat. He had ended all of her plans with one swipe of the blade. Anger burned hot in her stomach, and she twisted her wrist. The sheets and bedding wrapped around him, but instead of putting out the fire, it squeezed him tighter as they too burst into flames.

The man exploded.

Liquid rubies of flesh and bone rained like ghastly treasure. Guts splattered on her headboard, on the window, and across her body, slamming into her with a sickening crunch. She panted as blood splattered across them all.

She looked down. A bone wrapped in ripped flesh rolled near her shoes. The scent of blood filled the room, making her stomach twist.

Shock rippled through her, her body going cold then hot then cold again as she realized what she"d done. She analyzed the situation like an experiment, detaching her overwhelmed mind from the horror of the scene before her.

Strangely, there was no guilt like she"d expected. She"d never killed a man before. Instead, a cold sense of calm and justice settled on her.

He had it coming. You were within your rights to avenge your husband.

Bella"s head swung to Gastone where he lay on the floor. Her own body was cold as ice. Blood and gore dripped down her cheek and clung to her hair. She panted, her heart still racing.

"It"s too late," Bella whispered, sinking to her knees beside her husband. She pulled the curtains down with magic, dissolved them into ash, and settling them over his body to put out the fire.

She threw her head back and screamed, throwing magic out in a pulsing arch. The others in the room groaned and then turned to run out the door. She heard their footsteps, but didn"t open her eyes, too lost in her grief.

The echo of his heart beat hit her like she was inside a drum.

Thump thump. It"s not too late. Thump thump. You can keep him with you, learn his magic and grow stronger. Thump thump. Isn"t that what you want? To keep a part of him with you forever? Thump thump.

"Yes," she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks and mixing with the blood of her enemies.

Put your hand on his chest and repeat after me. Thump thump.

She followed the mystical voice as if in a trance. Gastone"s jacket and shirt ripped apart as she repeated the words, magical words that had no meaning in modern society and language.

It was all gibberish, but she watched in horror as his chest was neatly sliced open.

Thump thump. Take out his heart.

She shook her head. This was awful, it was the exact opposite of everything Lailant had taught her about saving her fellow man.

Except you"re not a normal human, are you? You"re the most powerful mage in the land. Isn"t that what you want to be? All the power and knowledge at your fingertips. All you have to do is reach out and grab the heart.

Her hand followed, and she struggled to pull it back. It seemed to have a mind of its own, though. Her fingers clasped the slippery, sticky, pumping organ and pulled. Magic severed the arteries as she lifted it above his limp, smoking body.

Now go to the vanity. You have all the tools you need to make this potion. Go.

Her body seemed to flash with an inhuman speed. Her pulse raced as if trying to catch up with her body. Her hands flew through the vials and bowls on her vanity, things she"d been collecting over the past few months of marriage, things that didn"t make any sense but brought her a sense of comfort when she"d laid them on the desk.

Horror and terror clawed at her stomach, and she pushed down the nausea as she squeezed the heart, blood dripping into the bowl. Then she put the heart in the bowl. It burst into blue flames, and she blinked, turning away from the blinding light.

The light faded, and the mirror rippled with magic.

Now drink it.

She picked it up, the spicy cinnamon smell making her lick her lips. Her body had a mind of its own as the horror and guilt over this entire nasty day seemed to float away. All that was left was her pain and heartache. Anger and rage built within her too.

She tipped her head back and chugged the drink, the spice burning her lips like she was swallowing flame. She slammed the bowl onto the vanity and the mirror rippled again.

She smacked her lips, wincing at the after taste. Her stomach twisted, knotting with pain as she bent double.

Now let it all out, dear. That"s a good girl. Let the anger flow.

The good girl sent a stab of pain through her chest, making her gasp. Her father had always said that. It"d always made her feel safe and like she was making him proud. Then he"d gone to war and was probably dead.

She screamed in pain, coming to terms with the fact that none of the king"s men had located her father. He was lost, just like her husband. She"d thought she"d finally found someone to hold her tight and tell her it was alright. A charming husband like Gastone was exactly what she"d needed. He"d praised her in all her accomplishments the past few months, celebrating with each new spell learned and magical level gained.

And the fucking cretins had killed him. She howled with rage.

How dare they kill her husband? He"d given her everything! She was the queen. In destroying Gastone, they thought they could destroy her too?

Over her dead body. She"d done nothing but bend over backwards in that tavern for twenty-five hellish years. The blood, sweat, and tears that went into that business, and for what?

The little selfish pricks still wanted handouts. They wanted free food and free drinks, thought they should get a discount just because they"d fought with her father in the bloody war?

Oh no they didn"t. She stood over her husband"s body, the rage a roiling, magical thing that swept her up. Magic swirled around her until she felt near to bursting.

Then she did burst.

She screamed her rage, throwing more magic out of her body than she"d ever felt before. She was transformed, and the added magic needed a release. Her body wasn"t meant to handle the power and magic of a drakin. She was just a human with magic from her healer mother.

But her mother had died too, long ago when she was just a child. The pain and rage of growing up in a tavern without the calming and sheltering influence of a mother ripped from her too, sending another pulse of magic.

Her scream echoed off the walls, and the magic twisted her body into some grotesque, hideous monster that could hold all the new magic.

****

Scarlet hopped downthe hallway, her eyes wide in fright. Why was everything so tall? She had to find the safety of the forest. She had to burrow in a hole and hide.

She raced to the stairs and saw servants running through the foyer screaming. She slammed into the wall, still unsteady on her new feet.

New feet? She looked down, and her eyes widened. She had soft brown paws for toes and the long feet of a jack rabbit. She looked between the railing and frowned, people running through the foyer below.

The stark contrast between the humans below and her body confused her. She wasn"t a rabbit. She"d hunted and eaten rabbit. She couldn"t do that if she was a rabbit.

Her stomach twisted at the memory of roasted rabbit, and she gagged. What was going on? Who was she?

She turned with wild eyes to look at her hands. She sat on her haunches like a rabbit. Her hands were paws like one, her body was covered in a soft coat of fur like one. A shining object caught her gaze, and she looked over. A mirror had fallen to the ground and was propped precariously on one corner, leaning against the railing of the stairs.

She hopped closer and turned this way and that, her mind racing to catch up with her reality. Eyes wild with fear, she wiggled her little pink nose. Whiskers wobbled as she leaned closer. Large floppy ears hung down her back, mixing with a red tuft of hair between.

She tilted her head, her green eyes shimmering in the light from the broken window. Her eyes... Those were her eyes! She was Scarlet, the daughter of a Ranger and a Druid.

She"d never had magic before, but she felt the tingle of it flowing down her spine as she realized what and who she was. Her ass itched, and she turned to the side. A fluffy white tail shook.

She sneezed, swiping a paw to her nose as she twisted and pursed her lips and nose.

Then a scream ripped through the air, making her jump. Her heart raced as she leaped down the stairs, terror licking at her heels.

She was a fucking Hunter. Why was she running? The row of animal heads on the wall of the stairs made her heart race. Her breath caught in her throat as she tripped over her giant feet and went tumbling down the stairs.

Pain raced up her spine as she rolled to a halt. Her tail and whiskers twitched as she blinked past the pain, a prized stag with giant rack of antlers staring down at her from the wall in the foyer.

Heavy steps followed her down the stairs, and she curled into a ball against the wall as the monster came chasing after her.

Except he jumped over the last step and landed with a crash. The walls shook as more screams echoed above them. A crash made her peek between her paws. Wood and plaster crashed over the front door, blocking it as servants ran for freedom.

A blast of magic ripped through the air, and everyone in the castle screamed. Scarlet felt her body twist with magic again. Bones crunched, and pain made her gasp as she shimmered.

Her arms lengthened and she shifted back into her human body. She was both relieved but fear licked at her heels along with anger at being naked. She had already felt off-kilter at having none of her weapons or gear, but now to be naked in the foyer of the castle with a room full of strangers...

She scrambled to her feet, ducked into an adjacent room. The formal receiving room was dirty, and a maid rocked in the corner crying. Scarlet raced to the debris along the far wall, yanking a curtain that had crashed to the ground.

She looked for a way out as she wrapped the curtain around her, tying it at her shoulder. She grabbed the gold cord and used it like a belt, her hands flying in fear of what would happen next.

She spun in a slow circle, searching for a way out, but there was nothing. She ran to the door and peeked out the door. Servants poured into the foyer, each talking over the other. But they all said the same thing. The doors and windows were blocked.

Screams and vibrations pulsed from upstairs, and Scarlet jumped, diving to the side and crouching into a ball beside the maid.

"Over here," a deep voice yelled. "We can get out through the cellars. Go, hurry, tell everyone you can find."

"The cellars? Are you mad?" someone yelled.

"No, I"m not," the big man said. The walls shook, and more debris fell from the ceiling, crashing around her. She jumped, slamming into the wall behind her. The woman next to her rocked, wailing loudly.

"We don"t have time for this. I"m a Robin, and so help me Borga, if you want freedom, you will go to the cellars. Now!"

His voice boomed, and everyone scrambled to follow his command. Everyone except Scarlet. She cowered in the corner, her spirit wanting to fight but her heart wanting to run and hide. Maybe if she crawled under a table, she would be safe.

The big man came into the room knelt in front of them, a frown on his stony face. She blinked up at him, hope warring within her even as she trembled in fear.

"Scarlet?" he whispered. "It"s alright. We"re getting out of here. Miss, let"s go?"

He held out a hand to the maid, and Scarlet wiggled her nose and mouth in fear. He smelled of stone and rain. Another scream from above had her scrambling to her feet to follow him and the maid. She grabbed his other hand, jumping in fear.

She felt bolstered by the touch, and she frowned as he led her down the hall after the servants. Her hand felt so small in his.

What was she doing? She wasn"t this little child who needed to be led around by the hand. She stood straighter as they entered the cellar. Voices rose in panic, and the big man dropped her hand.

She flattened herself against the wall as he strode into the crowd and pointed them down the tunnel to freedom. This was familiar somehow.

Her nose twitched, and apprehension pressed on her chest. She walked to a different door, past everyone else and down into the dungeon. She glanced down at her feet and hands.

She had hands again. Barefoot, she strode down the dark, dank hall to face her nightmare. Memories of her tortuous time here flew through her mind, anchoring her in her human body.

She wiped her forehead, her heart racing. She felt her head, her face. Her heart froze in horror.

She still had the giant ears, but now she had antlers too. She still had the whiskers and a different nose. How long had she wished to be magical and different like her grandmother, like Knox?

But not like this. She never wanted this. What was she?

A pain in her ass as she walked made her pause halfway down the dungeon"s walk of death.

She reached back, feeling her tail. She grabbed the curtain and ripped just under the belt. Her tail popped free, and she sighed in relief. Then she stiffened, feeling the tail. It wasn"t a rabbit"s tail anymore, but it wasn"t a deer"s tail either.

It was coarser like a coyote or wolf. Her fear made her heart race and her teeth hurt. She felt her mouth, finding sharp canines perfect for tearing into flesh.

The changes made her angry. She stomped the last few feet to the cell at the end. She pushed the door open, and it creaked. The walls shook and stones tumbled to the floor, but it was muted this far underground.

She stared at where she"d been held for days. She"d cried for ages. She"d been locked in the dark, smelly pit of despair while the king had prodded her, burned her, and cut her, all the while asking questions about the Robins and Knox.

The walls rocked again, and she somehow knew that the king was dead, that he could never get to her again. But the need for revenge lit a fire in her chest. Her tail wagged behind her at the idea, and she grabbed it to hold it still.

She slammed the door shut on the cell, and it clanged, echoing off the walls. She shut the door on her fear and refused to give in to the childish terrors of the dark.

Long ago, she"d been afraid. Afraid of the dark. Afraid of the monster that visited her every night in her dreams. Afraid of the future.

Then she"d lost her mother. Then her father. And now her entire world was crumbling around her.

She turned and clenched her jaw, her hands fisting at her sides. She would not be some weak watered woman who couldn"t fight, couldn"t defend herself, couldn"t forge her own path in life.

So what if she was a rabbit, stag, wolf abomination, an anomaly of nature, a monster unlike any other? She still was who she was. She would not be ruled by this nightmare.

She strode through the cellar and into the tunnel to freedom.

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