Page 112 of Emylia

Everything still felt a little fuzzy. It was like an ethereal force had manipulated me, burning through me and claiming me as its own. I wasn’t even sure if I had been in control of my body. Most of what I remember was vengeful rage and the need to protect.

Running my hands up and down my arms, I tried to rid myself of the numbing cold that had seeped into my skin. Tiny bumps cascaded over my entire body, but no matter what I did, I couldn’t get rid of them. Without a word, Maalikai closed the distance between us, his arms wrapping protectively around me as he sat next to me on the ground.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” A whispered promise washed over me as he held me impossibly tighter. The smell of him permeated my senses; pine and mint claimed my soul.

Burying my cheek into his chest, I let Maalikai hold me, willing the unease to trickle away. There was something inexplicable about the way my body responded to his; in only a few short seconds my climbing hysteria had lessened. The cold that had consumed me was untraceable, replaced with a warmth so intense I felt like I would spontaneously combust.

Releasing me only marginally, Maalikai studied my face, his hands running the lengths of my arms. “Are you feeling any better?”

“I think so?” I divulged. “I at least feel more like myself.”

His lips brushed the tip of my forehead, a half-smile curling his lips. “I’m glad to hear that.”

I looked down at myself. “Gods…”

“Uh, yeah. That dress will probably need to be burned.”

The emerald dress was ruined. What was left of it, anyway. It was torn up to my thighs in some places—thank Gods I was wearing pants underneath—the bodice showed the dress’s boning, and the delicate shoulders were ripped straight through. And there was blood everywhere. All over the dress. All over my arms, my chest, my hands, probably my face.

“I think I might throw up.”

The back of Maalikai’s fingers brushed along my cheekbone as he lowered himself to my eye level. “Are you going to be okay?”

A breath filled my lungs, calming the storm that swam nauseously in my stomach. “I think so.”

Gentle hands captured my wrists. Reverently, Maalikai brought each of my palms to his lips, kissing each one in turn, ignoring the dried blood, before pulling me to my feet.

Feeling as though I had woken from a deep sleep, I studied the carnage around me in an odd haze. Bodies lay on the ground, appendages positioned at odd angles.

Dead.

They were all dead.

My eyes honed on the one who lay with multiple stab wounds to his chest, his body completely mutitlated.

I looked down at my trembling hands. Blood stained them a sickening scarlet.

I did that.

I killed a man.

I killed a small army worth of men.

Air came in ragged gasps. My head felt like it was going to explode from the lack of oxygen and sure enough, I bent over and vomited.

I heard Maalikai murmur as he rubbed my back and held my hair back.

Sebastian stormed over, his face full of rage, his lips curling into a snarl. He looked me up and down, face hardening, his skin blanching a pale gray.

“If they hurt you, I’m going to kill them.” Sebastian took a step forward, his hand reaching for my bloodied arm as I stood up straight.

“You can’t, they’re already dead,” I spat out the words like they left a horrible taste in my mouth. Sebastian’s eyes met mine. “I killed them.” A sob ripped from my chest, strangled and uneven, like I was drowning in it.

Sebastian reached for me, gently taking hold of my arms. “It’s okay, Em. Something obviously h?—”

“Don’t you dare touch me.” Hatred seethed from me, not for him, but for myself. “I’m a killer.”

Sebastian’s body went rigid, pulling away from me like lightning still possessed me, my touch still a harbinger of death.

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