Page 182 of Hellbound

She swung the hammer down onto Radegast’s blade.

Black, luminescent lightning fractured from her fingertips, and she screamed. Brilliant, searing forks raced up her arm like cracks in glass. The light died, leaving scorched trails through her flesh, burning her from the inside out.

Red light burst from a fissure that now split Radegast’s center, the metal shrieking.

Raw, terrible, endless power erupted from the blade in waves of distorted air, warping and twisting reality wherever the energy touched.

“No, NO!” Karsan threw his hands up against the light, his face bloodless with fear and panic. “What have you done!”

Radegast and Krahomor fell from Ksenia’s limp hands, quaking from the pain, unable to do more than fall into a fetal position on the bloodied floor.

Footfall came down the hallway as a dozen Envorsen burst into the room, Bohdan leading the charge.

A few immediately retched at the sight. Bohdan himself grew pale looking at her, covered in blood from head to toe.

Dozens upon dozens of bodies strewn around the room.

“I’ll fucking kill you,” Karsan seethed. He scrabbled for Radegast amongst the viscera, his fingers closing around the hilt.

He screamed.

The blade glowed where he made contact—orange and searing white, the blade pulsing with unstable power. He jerked his palm back, already bubbling and blistered, the smell of burnt flesh mixing with the tang of blood.

His invincible hellbound weapon—the source of his compulsion—and he couldn’t even hold it.

A snarl twisted on his face as he whirled toward the hammer, desperate and frantic.

His fingers barely brushed the handle before he recoiled with a hiss of pain.

The cold bit deeply, with an instant frostbite that turned his fingertips black and dead.

Two weapons at his feet. Both unwieldable.

A high giggle burst from Ksenia’s throat.

His head snapped toward her.

She lay broken on the floor, raw scorches blistering her skin, blood and tears streaking her face, but her eyes were fever-bright, wild, and victorious.

“You have nothing!” Her shoulders shook with laughter. “No more bondsmiths, no kingswords, no Radegast, no way you could ever make me do anything again.” She laughed and laughed. “Let me live or kill me. Either way—you’ve lost everything.”

For a moment, Karsan could only stare.

At Radegast, cracked and glowing on the floor.

At the shattered remains of his kingswords.

At Krahomor, deathly cold to the touch.

At Ksenia, the catalyst of it all, lying spent and cackling maniacally.

The stronghold he had over Kraal was crumbling.

“I will make you beg for death, Drazan. Mark my words.” Karsan swung a singed finger at her, his melted, blistering flesh on display.

The threat rang hollow as laughter spilled from her, edged with hysteria.

“Arrest her!” He whirled on the guards, voice climbing. “For treason! Attempted regicide!”