Page 113 of Daughter of the Drowned Empire
Viktor flung himself on top of me, his hands in a vice-like grip around my wrists as he held them over my head.
“Come on, Lady Asherah,” he sneered, his mouth over my ear. “Fight back.”
I growled, trying to buck him, but someone kicked me in the side, their toe going through my waist. I lost my breath, vision blurring. Another kick came from the other side into my ribs. My head rolled back. The pain reverberated inside of me. I could feel Rhyan’s strength gathering inside me, desperate to explode and protect me.
I had to slow down…stamina, not speed. But everything already hurt so badly.
“Get up, you bitch,” Pavi said. She stepped on my hands just like she had that first day. “That’s for my back.” She spat.
“You never belonged here,” Naria said, leaning over me.
My heart pounded. Viktor’s hips were hovering over mine, and as if we’d noticed at the same time, he slammed down on top of me, the move violently intimate. I gagged, both from the impact and the disgustingness of it.
“Maybe she’s been staying because she cut a deal with the Ready,” he said, grinding into me. “Are you giving it up for him? Alternating nights with Lord Grey?”
“Get. The. Fuck. Off,” I spat. My legs kicked uselessly beneath him.
“Make me,” he said, pushing down again. “Without power, without any strength…what else are you good for?”
I exploded. White hot fury like ice and fire pulsed through my veins, and I bucked, throwing him onto his back. Dizziness was like a cyclone spinning through me as I flipped onto my stomach. My head rolled to the side, but I somehow made it to a crouched position before I was slapped from behind and forced back onto all fours.
“How’d she do that?” one of the brutes asked.
I started crawling, but someone grabbed my legs and pulled them out from under me. My face slammed into the ground, and my chin scraped against it. More blood burst into my mouth. There was another kick to my ribs, and another, and someone was punching my back.
The rain fell freely now, and another round of lightning lit the sky, followed by thunder that doubled the rainfall.
Tears fell freely down my face as I was kicked. Again. And again. And again.
I wasn’t going to last much longer. If Rhyan hadn’t given me his power, I knew I’d already be unconscious. I was only awake because of it—but it wasn’t enough. I had to get away.
I tried to roll free, to wrench my legs and hands out, but nothing was working. I had Rhyan’s power running through my body, but it would burn through me soon.
Naria hauled me to my feet.
“Fight back, cousin,” she snarled. “You’re embarrassing us.”
“It’s your grace, you fucking traitor.” I spat; blood landed on her cheek. There was a look of horror and disgust on her before she kneed me in the belly. I wheezed, doubling over. She slapped my back, then slapped it again as I desperately tried to breathe and recover from her hit.
I realized, even in my weakened state, she could have me. She could end me right here, but she wasn’t. She was just slapping my back. Naria wasn’t attacking me the way the others were, as if some unspoken familial bond was keeping her from doing her worst. If I could keep her angry, keep her distracted, I had a better chance of getting through this than if I faced the others.
“You’re not going to survive here, you powerless wretch,” she yelled. “Just give it up. Or you, too, will end up in Lethea. Just like—”
“Don’t you dare speak her name, you daughter of a traitor! You’ll never have what I have. And Tristan,” I snarled. “I know what you tried with him. And you failed. He never fucking wanted you. I will always outrank you in every way—power or not.”
Her face twisted into a grimace of hurt and anger. I’d hit too deep, but I’d meant to. How dare she bring up Jules now, in a habibellum?
“Fuck you,” she said and handed me off to Viktor. “Do whatever you want to her.”
He gripped my arms so tightly I knew I’d have bruises on them for weeks. He lifted me up, my toes just scraping the floor. My stomach twisted. I was going to be sick.
His eyes were black, soulless, his expression feral, so much like his father’s, and the Bastardmaker's. “Tell me, Lady Asherah.” He leaned in. “Ever thought about me when you’re beneath Tristan?”
I kneed him in the groin. Viktor’s eyes widened before he yowled in pain, his face turning red as he stumbled backwards, gripping me.
I landed on top of him, flipped over onto my back beside him, and got to my feet, running for the border of the five. If I could get to the silver circle, I could threaten them with its pain. But Pavi was already on top of me.
“You think your little trick will work on me?” The punches came lightning fast with the kicks, but suddenly, I was able to see clearly. Like before, I knew what to do. I knew when to duck, how to block. Rhyan had said fighting was half being aware of your surroundings and half choreography. I had both skills, and with his power backing me up, I was suddenly holding my own, keeping my ground, and sending my attackers back in a way I’d never thought possible before.
