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Ciara’s arms tightened painfully around me as Nessa screamed, “No!”
There was a small gap under Ciara’s arm, and I could see Nessa running across the room. I knew I shouldn’t look—Ciara had already told me no, and I was safe.
I hadn’t done anything this time for them to punish me.
But I couldn’t stop watching.
She clawed at the two men who’d grabbed her, pulling her from Mr. Richards, who was already halfway to the door, ready to go back to his room, clean up, and have dinner, most likely.
I wasn’t hungry though. I might not ever eat again.
They ignored Nessa’s screams and kicks, holding her arms to her side as they dragged her over stained stone, toward the burgundy door that no one ever wanted to pass through.
I’d never been back there before—not even to peek. There was only one person, besides Mr. Richards, who ever went into and left that room alive.
Ciara was sobbing against my hair, and her whispered words of comfort began to change. “One day, when you’re older, you’ll come back here.” She’d started speaking into my ear. “When you grow up, you’re going to be stronger than all of them. They’re trying to kill our people—don’t let it happen. Promise me you’ll make them pay.”
“Ciara?” I finally closed my eyes as the door slammed shut. I was squeezing her thin blouse, the fabric threatening to rip under my fingers. And Ciara… She was hurting me.
“No one is going to expect you, Bianca. You can use that.” Ciara began to speak more quickly. “We need you. No matter what happens, don’t give up.”
The warm body was still pressed against mine as groping fingers trailed along the outside of my leg. His fast, excited breath panted loudly in my ear. I couldn’t see. The remnants of my nightmare faded—a memory that I’d forgotten long before this moment—as a new sense of dread caused my breath to catch.
Absolutely not.
I didnotgo through all this crap just to let someone take advantage of me again.
I would rather die.
Shouted protests barely rang through my awareness—right now, they wouldn’t help me.
There was no one who could help me—I hadno choicebut to save myself.
My skin prickled, and where before, my limbs had been heavy and limp, a growing sense of strength began to move through them. As my attacker fumbled with his own clothes, my anger swelled until its bitter taste filled my mouth.
I hated them. I hated everyone who’d ever hurt an innocent.
And this time, I was going to fight back.
Ciara was right. Iwasstronger now.
Strong enough to make them pay.
The man grinned in boyish excitement as he loosened his clothes, and—finally—he met my eyes.
His happy panting stopped abruptly, and dark honey eyes morphed from elation to terror within a second. “What the—”
I was going to kill him.
I was air-bound, twisting, asSpellslayer’sfamiliar grip appeared in my hand. The kneeling man fell face-first onto the floor, stumbling before he tried to jump forward on his hands and knees.
As he fell, I pushed my knees into his back. There’d been no time for him to even try to figure out where I’d gone—nor probably even to wonder—before, in the downward momentum of my jump, I pushed the tip of my blade through the center of his neck. It cut through bone and muscle like a warm knife through butter.
The once loud room suddenly silenced.
Kill them both.
The words rang through my head, an order that I didn’t even want to protest. Right now, it could have been coming through me or Mu—it didn’t matter.
