Page 56 of Dynasty of the Wicked

She could barely hear his threats, her mind overcome with midnight shadows which twirled and curdled her own blood. It was as if a mist was curtaining her gaze, tunneling her vision as more magic leaked into the fibers of her being. She could feel it spreading, inch by inch, throughout her body. Her magic thrived with the pain, seeming to grow, and grow, until she couldn’t hold it back anymore.

Finally, a delayed scream ripped from her mouth and she sprang up to her feet with a strength she didn’t know she had. She didn’t know when it happened, or how, but she was suddenly in front of Wyer, her fingers wrapped around his throat.

He slapped her fingers away, lurching back on his feet. His eyes were wide, a trembling hand touching his bruised throat.

“What—”

Her grin stretched, black shadows whipping over the snow in thick streaks. It was like she had no control of her body. She moved without thinking, without prompt. She was in front of him again, fists swinging. He held up his hand to deflect, or to catch her fist, but her punch crushed through bone easily. A howl of pain escaped him as he staggered back, a look of shock flashing over his once-cruel face.

She jumped forward, punching him again. This time, he dodged, his sword raised to put more distance between them. She felt like she was on fire, the magic leaking out of her in bursts of black, thickening and coating everything she touched. Jab after jab, she moved on instinct. He hit her with his own magic, but she barely felt a thing, her shadows softening the blows. Or maybe her brain had shut everything off other than tokill.

She had no idea which it was and, frankly, she didn’t care.

Wyer tackled her, green flames burning from his fingertips as he wrestled her wrists onto the ground, pinning her in place with his heavy body. He growled, a bluish aura steaming off his body like a barrier.

“Stop resisting,” he hissed.

Her body felt like a cauldron, ready to boil and bubble forth. She yanked her wrists away, but his magic fastened her in place. She snarled incoherently, trying in vain to escape.

A cruel smile spread on his face. “You are better this way. Pinned underneath me, with nowhere to run.”

Rage like she had never felt before burst from within her, somewhere deep and dark, where all her scars and terrible memories were stored. She could feel her skin tightening, her muscles clenching, and her mind going blank as a red, blood-like anger overtookeverything.

“I will never be yours!” she shouted from deep within herself.

She shoved him off her, wave after wave of inky black death frothing from her hands. He screamed, falling to the ground several feet from her. She rose to her feet slowly, more undulations of power rising from her being. She curled her fists together, and uncurled, and did it again. Her breathing slowed.

She felt so powerful in that moment. Time seemed to slow. Wyer was writhing on the ground, her shadows attacking him like blackish specters, their hands clawing at his face, his arms,and his chest. The other Kadians fought against Feng Mian and his magic; their numbers had dwindled down to a few dozen.

Hope surged in her chest.

She snapped her attention back to Wyer, willing her shadows to consume him more. To drain his life like Feng Mian’s cursed magic had always done. “You are an accursed, loathsome excuse of a man,” she said with enough vitriol to burn him to the ground. “And if you think I will be your queen and reign beside you—you are more of a fool than I thought. I am the villain to you Kadians, and a royal among my people. I willneverbe yours.”

Wyer screamed, his nails raking over his face as the wisps of black magic ate away at his flesh, draining his life slowly. His skin was beginning to turn discolored and gray, his eyes a dull blue. And yet he was still alive, thrashing and rolling on the ground.

Zhi Ruo’s breathing became labored and she raised her head to stare at the others; Feng Mian was dueling three soldiers and the rest were combatting ghastly humanoid monsters he had conjured. She blinked back in shock at the shadowed beings. They twisted their long limbs in unnatural, bent positions, their mouths an open chasm of dripping blood. And their screams—they echoed through her own bloodlust, sending ripples of goosebumps over her flesh.

How much of Feng Mian’s life was he trading for these monsters? The thought sent a shudder down her spine, and she clenched her fists together tightly to keep from trembling in fear and panic. She had to fight too, before his magic ran out and the curse spread all the way over him.

Zhi Ruo picked up her discarded daggers and headed toward the first soldier closest to her. He fought against the phantom-like creature, his sword sliding through the shadowy figure. A puddle of blood oozed out of the eyes and mouth holes of thecreature’s ghastly, grinning face. It lunged at the man, who shrieked and fell to the ground, his limbs flailing in every direction as the creature stuck its face near his and drew his blood. Zhi Ruo’s steps faltered, her horror rising as the man’s eyes rolled backward, his life and blood draining from him in seconds.

She resisted the urge to vomit, turning her attention to another soldier, but they too were being consumed by the dark creatures. It was then that she saw Feng Mian a dozen feet away wrenching his blade out of the chest of one of the soldiers he was fighting. He shifted his attention to his surroundings, panic drawn all over his face.

Her heart stuttered.

“Feng Mian—” she began, voice raspy.

“Zhi Ruo! Princess! Where are you?!” He spun around, his blind eyes tracking nothing. “Zhi Ruo!”

“Here!” She stumbled forward through thick blood-colored snow and shadow magic that stained the surroundings in wisps of rotting brown and purple. At the edges of her vision, Kadians fought the creatures, a cacophony of screams filling the early morning air. “Feng Mian!”

He whipped his head in her direction, eyes wide, breath coming out in small gasps. He held his hand out. He was a dozen feet away. “Come here! Don’t go near the ghouls!”

The creatures were ghouls, then. But she had no idea what that meant. Only that they were dangerous and blood sucking.

As if on cue, the ghoul that had been feasting on the closest Kadian soldier to her tilted its head in her direction. Its mouth was curved into a grisly grin. A shock jolted through her system. These things were from nightmares—pure evil.

The creature lunged at her. She bit back a scream, reeling away as the ghost-like shadowy figure missed her by a hair’s breadth. A death-like coldness followed in its wake, leechingwhatever warmth she had. Her legs felt leaden, stuck, as she stared at the creature; it slowly turned around, its mouth open to scream high-pitched.

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