Page 36 of Her Cruel Redemption

‘You want control? Get on your fucking knees,’ I snarled, curling my fingers and drawing the lightning to the centres of my palms in two hot, blinding points that sizzled with energy. Draven held still a moment, and I turned my hands, preparing to rain down fury, trusting that, even if I couldn’t aim, he was close enough that I’d surely do some damage. He tracked my movements, his grey eyes tracing the zaps of lightning flickering across my skin, his mouth drawn, something dark carving grooves across his forehead. When his gaze collided with mine again, he held it. He raised his hands in supplication.

And sank to his knees.

The rage ebbed a little at the sight of him like that, looking up at me. But the thrill of it only intensified. He’dsurrendered. Just like that. And even if there was a part of me wondering why, I was too captivated by the rush of power to focus on it.

‘Now what?’ he asked. It sounded like a challenge to me. Like ataunt.

I let the magic in one hand recede, bending to pick up the knife I’d dropped in the scuffle without taking my eyes off him. There were slashes on his left shoulder. At least I’d got him before he pinned me to the wall in the bakery. His shirt was gaping open along his collar, and drawing closer, I used the blade of the knife to flick the material back, revealing a gash weeping blood. He hissed as I touched the wound with the tip of the knife. I traced it up his neck, leaving a faint trail of red behind, before pressing the knife tip beneath his chin, lifting it so I could take in his deep-set eyes, mouth too sensual for someone so ruthless. He was more worn than when I’d seen him last. The hollows around his eyes were darker.

‘I like you better when you’re bleeding,’ I said. My heart was thudding so hard it made me nauseous, and that light-headed euphoria was still churning through me, like the magic-tinged delirium that came with a few dips of swoon, all exhaustion and power and thrill. ‘Maybe I’ll make you bleed some more.’

‘You can do that. But you won’t need magic for it. Let it go.’

‘We are long past the point where you get to tell me what to do, Draven.’ I curled my fingers tighter around the point of heat in my left hand. It was burning hotter and hotter, but the pain of it was pleasant somehow now, radiating down my arm in pulses of agony that felt bright and sweet, like the release of rubbing at a tight muscle. There was relief in it, and freedom. I felt like I could do anything, endure anything. Even him.

‘It will make you sick,’ he said quietly. I bared my teeth and drew his chin higher, increasing the pressure of the blade. Another spark jumped out of my hand with a blinding flash, arcing high and slamming into the roof of a building across the street. The wall slumped, pouring rubble to the ground in a crashing rush.

‘Youhave made me sick. You have used me. You have ruined me. You have taken everything from me.’

‘I know,’ he said.

I laughed. It was outrageous, how quickly the tide had turned. Moments ago he’d been vicious. Now that had all dissolved away. Why wasn’t he trying to compel me? Where was hisresistance? ‘But all of that was nothing,’ I jeered, pressing the blade harder, dimpling his skin. ‘Nothing compared to what I’m going to do to you next.’

A rush of air zinged past my ear. A sharp sting. It jolted the rest of the world back into focus, like I’d been in some kind of trance. My perception widened beyond Draven, suddenly flooding with noise and movement as the pulse of heat in my hand receded, the magic settling back into my body with a heady kick of nausea to my stomach and a smack of pain behind my eyes. I gasped, losing my vision for a moment as I tried to blink through the pain and keep my feet. Another crossbow bolt flew past me, wider this time. There were soldiers emerging from an alley, one with his crossbow still cocked, another running, sword drawn.

‘Rhiandra!’ Gwinellyn’s voice screamed into my awareness. I blinked blearily as I scrambled to make sense of the scene. It felt like my mind was swimming in syrup beneath the thudding throb of agony.

‘Rhi!’ Gwin’s voice was coming from behind me. The soldier with the crossbow had another bolt cocked. Then he fell to his knees, hands going to his throat. The one running did the same, knees hitting the cobblestones heavily, sword falling from his hand. There was the sound of hooves.

‘Don’t go.’ Draven had risen into a half crouch. ‘Do what you want to me. But stay.’ The knife had drooped in my fingers and I adjusted my grip, brandishing it at him again.

‘Don’t move,’ I snarled, magic rising again as my stomach twisted. I should kill him now. One swift slice and it could be over. But Gwinellyn was yelling that more soldiers were coming, that I needed to run, and Draven had somehow moved out of my reach. Though I was the one moving, I realised, taking stumbling steps away from him.

‘Stay. Please,’ Draven said, one hand hovering in the air before him, as though he was going to lurch forward and grab me. But the pounding hooves shook the earth and in a burst of movement, a horse was prancing beside me, eyes rolling and mouth frothing.

‘Get on!’ Gwin was reaching for me. And I released the last of the magic to take her hand, to let her pull me into the saddle with more strength than I’d known either of us possessed. And then she was kicking the horse into a gallop and we were charging away as my head whirled and throbbed and my body began to tremble. I looked back to see Draven standing frozen, watching. Watching as we ran.

‘Where are the others?’ I managed to ask, the words merging together. Madeia help me, I could hardly hold on. My hands felt weak, my fingers slack as ribbons in a breeze. Two horses plunged towards us out of an alley, and my heart thudded in panic as I gasped. We were caught. We were going to be caught. But they pulled alongside us, keeping their pace with ours, and I recognised Mae through the woozy swirl of my mind, and Elias on the horse beside her. We charged onwards, cutting through the winding streets, and it was all I could do to hold on, my arms around Gwinellyn’s waist as my mind lurched and I tried not to be sick.

It took me a while in that state to realise no one was chasing us. There had been so many soldiers, how could there be none left to chase us? A memory swam slowly out of the churning molasses of my mind, of two soldiers falling to their knees. I hadn’t had time to question it in the moment, and now I wasn’t even sure I could trust that it had happened. Because I would be stupid not to recognise where I’d seen that sort of thing before; in the throne room, when Dovegni and his druthi had attacked us. Draven had brought them to their knees just like that, and I had a sudden, dizzying thought. That Draven had let me go. That he could have struck when the magic started to turn on me but he hadn’t.

And I hadn’t killed him even though I could have.

Chapter Seventeen

Rhiandra slipped in and out of consciousness as we rode. One of the others must have realised she was in danger of falling because a pumpkin in my saddle bag spontaneously sprouted, the resulting vine creeping up and around us, binding her to me. It didn’t help that it had started to rain. I could feel her shivering against me and my heart ached at the thought that she was suffering and I couldn’t help her. Not until we found somewhere to hide.

The farms this close to the border were mostly deserted, and we found one set far away from a road. The house was boarded up tight, and Daethie sensed enchantment about when she circled the place, so we didn’t try it. We didn’t want to set off an intruder repellent and draw attention. The barn was warm and dry and seemed a safer option. Elias cut the vines off me and lifted Rhiandra from the saddle, laying her down on a blanket Mae threw across the dusty floor. She was pale and trembling so badly her teeth chattered, her gaze blank as it roamed the ceiling like she was seeing something that wasn’t there.

I could hardly look up from her, too afraid of seeing the faces of the others. There was a thick sorrow in the air, muffling all sound and making it impossible to speak. I didn’t want to see an accusation in their eyes as they looked at me. I didn’t want to see regret.Ihad led them out of the Living Valley. They had followedmydream here.

And now Kelvhan was dead.

It had happened so fast. His horse had reared, his weight slipping in the saddle, his hands grasping at the pommel to pull himself upright as a soldier surged between Elias and Daethie, sword aimed, meeting his target with terrifying ease, his momentum driving the blade straight through Kel’s back. It hadn’t seemed real. He’d gone rigid, then slid the rest of the way out of his saddle, hands limp, just as Goras had sunk magic into the wooden bridge and brought it to life, shielding us with a wall of vines. The enemy had cut through them quickly, but by then Goras had regained his saddle and we’d regrouped, ready to surge forwards in one shared push. It had worked—we’d escaped.

But we’d left Kel lying dead on the floor of the bridge to do it.

I felt the light touch of fingers at the back of my neck, and Elias knelt next to me. ‘Are you alright?’

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