Page 144 of Veinblood
We rein in our horses, and my heart rate picks up speed as we wait. After a minute or two, Authority soldiers appear ahead of us. They move along the road in loose formation.
“They look like an Ashenvale patrol," Mira murmurs beside me.
The man in front spots us first. He raises his hand, bringing his men to a halt. His eyes are alert as he takes in our small group. Even at this distance, I can see him assessing our numbers, our equipment, and our potential threat level.
“Dismount and identify yourselves,” he calls out.
"I don’t think so," Sacha replies.
The words hang in the air between us. Tension rises immediately, hands moving closer to weapons. The Authority soldiers shift their stance, recognizing the threat in Sacha's response.
“Who do you think you are?” The captain’s hand moves tohis sword hilt. His men form up behind him, weapons ready, shields raised.
“I think I'm the reason your High Commander is hiding like a coward.”
Recognition flashes through the captain’s eyes. His gaze moves from Sacha to me, and understanding hits him. He knowsexactlywho we are.
“The usurper prince and his storm witch.” His lip curls, derision dripping from his tone. “There's a bounty on both your heads.”
Heads turn toward me, faces showing greed and determination. Whispers pass between them.
“Commander Breslin will reward us well for bringing them in,” one of his men calls out.
“Surrender to Authority justice," the captain demands. “You're both wanted for treason against the Authority.”
“There is no Authority left to surrender to.” Shadows begin to gather around Sacha’s horse. “Only scattered remnants clinging to a dead cause.”
The captain draws his sword, and his men follow suit. Steel rings against leather and metal as weapons clear sheaths in unison.
Fear crashes through me as the distance closes between us. The moonlight catches on their blades, on the metal studs of their armor, creating a constellation of sharp edges approaching through the darkness. These men aren't being driven by desperation, they're hungry for the reward they might get if they capture us.
I can’t let that happen. Thunder rolls overhead.
I slide from my horse seconds before lightning erupts from my skin in a blinding surge of silver fire. It arcs between my fingers, then leaps toward the advancing soldiers. The captain convulses as the first bolt takes him, his eyes wide with shock for just a moment before the power tears through his body. His scream cuts short as it rips through his armor, turning metal protection into a conductor of death.
But the lightning doesn't stop there.
It spreads like a living thing, jumping from soldier to soldier in a chain of destruction. Each man it touches becomes a conduit for the next strike. Silver fire races through their ranks, following metal weapons and armor, turning their own equipment against them. Swords become lightning rods, shields conduct electricity directly into the hands that hold them.
Bodies drop one after another. Some fall in silence before they can even process what's happening. Others scream as the lightning cooks them from within, their voices echoing off the trees lining the path before cutting off abruptly. The smell of burned flesh fills the air, mixing with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid scent of charred metal.
In seconds, it's over.
Twenty-four soldiers lie scattered across the road. Steam rises from their bodies in the cool night air. I stand among the carnage, silver light still crackling around my hands. The power pulses through me, reluctant to subside, hungry for more targets. The lightning came so easily. One moment of fear, and I became a weapon of mass destruction.
My stomach heaves, and I stumble away from the bodies, falling to my knees as bile burns up my throat. The metallic stench of burned flesh and blood makes me retch, my mind rejecting what I've just done.
I didn't mean for it to happen like that!
But that’s a lie. Part of mewantedthem dead. Part of me enjoyed watching them burn, enjoyed the way they fell before my power like wheat before a scythe.
I know what I'm becoming. I've known for a while now. Each time I use my power, each time the lightning responds to my emotions, I become harder. I become someone who can kill without hesitation.
The silver light pulses beneath my skin, responding to my horror,feedingon it. Even now, surrounded by the evidence of what I've done, it wants more.
And the most terrifying part isn't that I can do this.
It's that it's getting easier.
