Page 75 of She Who Holds My Wrath

For a split second, something ugly flashes across his face. Then he releases my jaw just to rear back and drive his fist straight into my nose. The crack echoes through the space, satisfying in a way I’d almost appreciate, if it wasn’t my own face. Pain explodes, my head snapping back against whatever the fuck is holding me in place. Warmth floods instantly as thick metallic blood spills over my lip. I scrunch up my face, spitting out the blood that’s trickled into my mouth, copper coating my tongue as I drag in a slow breath through the mess.

“Untie me and try that again. See how far you get,” I growl, tasting the threat in my own voice. I mean it. Gods, I fucking mean it.

“She will marry me, because I’m going to offer her something she can’t refuse.” He cracks his knuckles, shaking his hand out a little.

My lips pull into something feral despite the blood still dripping from my nose. “And what’s that? A tiny cock and a shit realm?” I scoff. “Living the fucking dream there, star-boy.”

I swear the vein on his forehead is about to erupt. His jaw ticks, his composure splintering in real time, and it hits me—he’s not used to this. I don’t think he’s ever had anyone other than Korithax speak to him like this. I know damn well if the demonic bastard is somehow watching, he’s laughing his ass off just as much at the thought of Kaelith trying to marry his wife.

“Well, since I know you’re not getting out of here alive, I guess you knowing doesn’t matter.” He shrugs. “I have the Six in the palm of my hands right now⁠—”

I scoff, cutting him off. “Of course you’re dick riding the Six.”

He rolls his eyes, but I can see the irritation, simmering just beneath the surface. “They’re the more powerful side right now. However, with me and Daisy combined, we could destroy them and rule everything. Everyone.”

I blink. Not because I’m impressed or considering it. But because for a second, I’m genuinely stunned by how fucking delusional he is. The bastard actually thinks Daisy would choose him. That she would betray her kingdom, and rule as a tyrant beside the creepiest motherfucker in this universe.

“And if—no—when she says no?” I ask, tilting my head slightly, blood still dripping down my chin.

He shrugs. “Then I’ll hand her over to the Six and I’ll still be on the winning side.”

Something inside me snaps. I thrash against my chains instantly, the metal biting into my skin as rage tears through me. The restraints rattle violently as I strain against them with everything I’ve got. He wisely takes a step back, his eyes widening for a brief second before he puts his calm mask back on. I saw it though. The fear. Good. He should be fucking scared.

“You fucking hurt her,” I growl, my voice deadly, “and I don’t care what I have to do, I will fucking destroy you, Kaelith. I swear it.” I mean every word. Even like this, when I’m powerless.

He just laughs like I’m nothing, turning his back to me as he walks away. He gives one glance over his shoulder. “Oh, you’re our new target by the way.” Then he vanishes out of sight, the soft echo of his boots the only remaining sound.

Three. Fucking. Days.

Three days that obnoxious bastard has had me hanging here. At first, I was confused as to what he meant by target. But I quickly found out. I was placed here to be Kaelith’s creepy servants’ fun bag. For them to swing at whenever they please.

Narethyx are odd creatures to look at. They’re both beautiful and disgusting with their pale grey skin, sharp canines and deadly sharp claws that protrude from their fingers. And to top it all off on the creepy scale, they have massive leathery wings that make them look like fucked up bats.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m no stranger to pain. In fact, under certain circumstances, I very much welcome it. But having long talons repeatedly stabbed and slashed into you—it gets pretty boring, and pretty fucking sore. Especially without the ability to heal myself. And when his flying freaks aren’t at it, his soldiers use me for target practice—everything from arrows to curved knives.

My body is cut, bruised, and barely hanging on. Every breath pulls at something torn. Every shift sends fresh pain flaring through nerves that are already fried. I only see Kaelith when he comes to inject me with more suppressant. But today, he’s late. I haven’t seen or heard his annoying fucking voice in well over twenty-four hours. And nobody else has come to inject me, either.

My mind drifts, unhelpfully, to Lucifer. To the last look on his face before all of this went to shit. He’ll know something’s off by now. And if there’s one thing I do know about Lucifer, it’s that he doesn’t take kindly to people touching what he considers his. A slow, bloody smirk tugs at my lips despite the pain. Gods, if Lucifer finds a way here and gets his hands on Kaelith? I almost feel sorry for the bastard. Almost.

Hours ago, I felt the twitching of my power low in my stomach. It was subtle at first. Easy to miss if I wasn’t constantly reaching for it like a starving man. Since then, it’s slowly grown to a violent rumble, hungry for release. I don’t often keep my shadows concealed, because they almost have a mind of their own. They like to writhe around my heels—clingy little fuckers, always wanting to curl around me, and keep me secure.

But I can’t let anybody know my magic has returned. I’m saving that for him. I’m going to let it build and build, until it’s unbearable. And the second his smug fucking face comes into view, I’m going to send every ounce of my power into every single one of his orifices, and melt his insides until he’s nothing more than a pile of mush.

The door bangs open, the sound jolting me out of my haze, and I tense instinctively. Finally, I get to unleash on Kaelith. But—disappointingly, it’s just a fucking guard. He stumbles in, nearly skidding across the stone as he tries to stop himself, chest heaving, breath coming in sharp, panicked bursts like he’s outrun death itself. His eyes are too wide, dancing around the room like he doesn’t know which face to land on. Interesting…

“What is it?” one of the other guards demands, striding over to him with irritation written all over his features.

“K…K…,” he stammers.

“Spit it out, you fucking moron,” someone else growls from the side, impatience threading each word.

“Kaelith’s dead.”

My head snaps up so fast my neck cracks as the entire room goes deathly quiet. It doesn’t take long for one of the guards to laugh, then another, until the whole space is filled with mocking hollers. They don’t believe him. Gods, even I don’t believe him.

“I’m serious,” the young guard insists, his voice cracking slightly under the weight of it all. “The bitch he captured escaped.”

My power flares violently beneath my skin. Daisy?