Page 31 of Darkness Rising
Cameron's attention swings back to the open book on the desk.
"What's the price?" I hate how quickly his question came.
Cameron is young. Really, he's about my age. But somehow the Wild Hunt aged me. It made me see the dark parts of the word at an early age. And I've been hesitant to trust the world ever since.
Cameron's question makes delight shine in my father's eyes. His pacing halts and he turns to me, looking deeply within my eyes.
"I'll be taking Violence back. I gave her power to the Wild Hunt, and now I'll be taking back my gift." His gaze is cold as it rakes across my features.
"You're crazier than I fucking thought you were if you think we'd let you take her for some journal written by Mary Fuckwit Crows." Nollix's shoulder brushes against mine as he steps nearer to my side.
"That's my grandmother. If you could watch your filthy tone," Cameron reminds him.
Another sweeping step brings my father closer. Only a few feet separate us.
"You, my boy, are not nearly as intelligent as I thought you were if you were under the impression I was asking you." His gaze swings from Nollix to me. "Violence speaks for herself. Isn't that right, Darling?"
My lips part to speak but he tramples over my thoughts.
"Do you not agree that it would be a fair trade; you by my side and that incredibly dangerous book out of my hands?"
There's a deadness within his eyes, a numbed sense of life that he's clinging to within him.
He knows. He knows I'd give my life to save everyone else’s.
My life isn't truly worth much. I live among the dying. My entire existence revolves around waiting for people to lose their life.
I'd give it away willingly if it meant saving a few. I’m not being a martyr, I’m being logical.
"Stop acting like you're considering this, Vi." Link's fingertips skim against the inside of my wrist. The hurt in his voice pulls at my attention.
It sounds painful. It sounds lost. It sounds like he needs me more than I need myself.
He'd be fine without me though.
We both know the pain of loss only lasts a little while.
It must come as a shock to my father when I go against the mold of how he raised me.
He raised me to be weak despite the power within me. He pushed me to doubt myself. He groomed me into this person who did what she was told and swallowed down the anger deep within her.
But I'm not that confused little girl anymore. My thoughts may be a little lost but I know my life holds value. And my body holds strength.
It’s time he learned that.
My blade swings up from my side. I grip it with both hands as I slam it through his stomach. With too much power, I lift him from the ground before throwing him down to the floor at my feet. Thick, dark blood coats the length of my blade. It slides against the weapon and trickles across my knuckles.
It was much easier than I thought it was going to be.
Too easy, actually.
The King's pale brows raise high and with a careful touch, his fingertips pat at the wound in his abdomen. Slick crimson stains his palm and he stares at it with an eerie smile tilting his lips.
"That was very unexpected, Violence. I thought I had raised you to respect your elders, especially your King.Especially your father." His words hold cold confidence. Not even a hint of weakness from a dying man is in his tone.
He brushes his hand over his fatal wound once more and the smell of burning magic tinges the air. A deep breath meets his lungs as his eyes close slowly. He treasures that breath for a moment. Then, with strong movements, he stands. He stands before me, meeting my narrowed gaze.
"I am an aging man, Violence. But it'll take a bit more than that to kill a man who's had a look into the book of Severed Souls." His gaze shifts to Cameron. "Isn't that right, Mr. Crows?"
