42. Saoirse

Saoirse

T he grand hall was a cacophony of chaos, the air thick with the clash of magic and the commotion of terrified onlookers as they ran as far away from the castle as they could get. My heart thrummed in my chest as I watched Vane hold my father so easily, the man who had tormented my entire childhood, who had made me feel like I could never be anything more than useless and afraid.

Vane's dragon form was a sight to behold, his massive wings casting shadows over the room, writhing and churning with the darkness that made him whole. He fought with a ferocity that left me in awe, every movement calculated and precise. Now, he turned his massive head toward me, his crimson eyes glinting. His head bowed slightly, as if to ask: what do you want me to do?

My father was my nightmare to deal with, and he was letting me take the lead.

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle on my shoulders. My chance. My chance to finally end the torment, take control of my own life, my own future. I'd let myself live under his control, let myself be caged by the trauma he had inflicted.

I stepped forward, slow and deliberate, my heart threatening to leap out of my chest.

My father's eyes widened as I approached, and for the first time, I saw genuine fear as he looked at me. "Saoirse," he spat, his voice filled with venom. The fear was gone now, replaced with pure, unbridled hatred for the daughter that stood before him. "I am your king, and you will obey me! Tell this abomination to let me go, and I won't have you all killed."

I stared at him, cocking my head to the side. Enshrouded by Vane's shadows, he didn't look as frightening as I remember. Gone was the man on the power trip who had repeatedly beaten me. The man who would lock me in a cage for days with no food or water, only the fresh wounds on my back to keep me company any time I did something he didn't agree with.

But that wasn't always the case. Sometimes I'd done nothing besides be born.

"Saoirse," he demanded. My eyes flicked upward, to where my mother still cowered in her seat, her blue eyes wide and fearful. The eternal bystander to my lifelong torment.

Then back toward Xan, who watched me with a stoic face. When she caught my eye, she nodded, pure steel in her gaze.

Then to Vane, whose eyes had never left me, who had always seen me for who I truly was, and seen everything that he thought I could be.

In that moment, something shifted within me, cracking down the middle like a quake splitting the earth. It ruptured, crumbling down into the abyss of trauma inside of me. The heaviness had always lingered at the edges of my mind, tainting my soul, but now it surged, wrapping around my heart, filling me with a cold, determined resolve. Darkness wasn't the enemy; it was my comfort .

This was my power, my strength, and I would no longer be afraid of it.

I stepped forward, approaching my father.

With deliberate, steady movements, I knelt beside him. His eyes widened further, panic beginning to set in as he saw my intention. My hand reached for the dagger strapped to his boot, the very one he had held to my throat just days before. His eyes followed my movements, and I saw a flicker of realization, then fear, then something that might have even been a plea.

But it was much too late for mercy.

I held the dagger in my hand, feeling its weight, enjoying the cold kiss of steel against my skin. The same weapon he had threatened to kill me with was now going to bring about his death.

"You will never hurt me again," I said, my voice steady, strong. The darkness within me surged, and I welcomed it, embraced it. "You will never hurt anyone again."

He opened his mouth as if to speak, but there was nothing he had to say that I could even pretend to care about. He didn't deserve his last words to be heard. Instead, I moved swiftly behind him, gripping his matching curls in my fist as I pulled his head back, baring his throat for the world to see.

With ice in my veins, I drew the blade across his throat in one swift motion. Blood sprayed, warm and thick, splashing my hands as his body convulse, a wave of crimson drenching his extravagant gilded robes. His eyes widened, then dulled as the life drained from him. I held him there, feeling the last shudders as he faded away, my grip unyielding until he went completely limp.

I released him, letting his body crumple to the floor. The last remaining onlookers seemed to hold their breath, nobody moving, the chaos forgotten. My father was dead.

And finally, I was free .

I turned to Vane, his dragon form towering over me, his eyes glowing with approval. A tendril of shadow broke from his side, touching gently to my cheek, the opposite of the incredible violence I had seen them inflict. A few seconds later, and he was back in his human form, no longer concerned with shielding his eyes from discovery as he took the room in. Maeve still stood, standing in one corner with excitement dancing in her eyes, as Vane moved to her to free her from her shackles.

Xan joined me, Len and Kian nowhere to be found, her arm slipping through mine. There was no sign of tears on her face as she stared at the body of our father. Even my mother, who had managed to right herself, was dry-eyed. No one had loved this man, and no one would miss him.

I faced the queen, covering the small flight of stairs that brought me right to her. "Give me the shard," I demanded, my voice hard.

She thought to argue—I could see it in her eyes—but then with trembling hands, she lifted the crystal tip of her staff, plucking out a small, red gem, the length of a pencil and handed it to me. "Take it," she said, her voice shaking. "Just take it and go."

I tightened my fist around it, and I could almost feel the power, the magic calling to a part of me that didn't exist. It was incredible to hold so much magic inside my hand, but not be able to wield it.

Without another word, I turned on my heel, marching out of the castle that had been my prison, time and time again, and out into the fresh air.