Page 6 of Heimlock

“Trinte? Need I remind you what happens when you refuse?”

I can’t keep doing this. I’d rather be dead. Death would be a relief.

Decision made, I lift my chin with a stony glare. “I won’t.”

Father sighs. In a flash, his hand is on my forehead. Blinding electricity seizes me, spasming my body into submission. There’s nothing but white. Air rips out of my lungs as I scream, curling into myself.

Then it’s over. Father steps back, leaving me in the fetal position. Waiting for me to collect myself after shoving lightning into me. “Are you ready?”

Hugging myself, gasping, I rasp out, “No.”

His brown leather shoe, shined to a fault, slams into my face. That’s a first — he normally keeps the bruises hidden. But without school, it’s a free-for-all, I guess.

Blood fills my mouth. I cough, spewing some onto his shoe. I should feel something, but all that exists is numb stubbornness.

“Fuck,” he snarls. “Your mouth is no good now. Get on the bed.”

My pulse roars in my ears, muffling his words. “No.”

Those shoes march closer. I choke on blood as he lifts me by the nape.

“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are,” Father snarls, snatching my hair to yank my head back. Darkness widens his pupils, like a predator seeking prey in the dark of night. “But you’re going to do your job. One way or another.”

With every ounce of hate I can muster, I spit warm blood onto his face.

He rears back, letting out a hair-raising growl. Tossing me to the ground, I’m barely able to land on my hands before he’s on top of me. Wrestling me to the floor. Pressing my body down. Ripping at my clothes.

Something new inside me rattles. When he rips at my pants, that new something cracks. His hand comes to the back of my head, smashing my face into the carpet. My insides explode. After years of not embracing my powers, at his directive, I lose control.

The scent of burned fabric fills the air as my skin heats. He hisses, but doesn’t let up. One of his thighs presses against the juncture of mine. I roar as he clamps a hand around my tail and yanks it up.

Energy explodes from me. Smoke and electricity fill the air as I turn into a ball of lightning. Clothing sizzles, becoming ashes in the wind. One of his claws presses into my eye socket, wrenching my head back with it. Blinding white light and pain like I’ve never felt consume my senses.

“Submit!” he screams, digging his claw into my eyeball further. “I’ll tear out your fucking eye. Don’t think I won’t.”

His words roll off like water off Seraphim feathers. He tries to electrocute me again, but I’m able to ignore it. To use the pain as fuel. Digging deep into myself, I connect to my Fyre. It greets me with a greedy embrace.

Without a second thought, I shift, pushing through the agony and sacrificing my eye in the name of revenge.

The house explodes. Father flies backward as my Dragon form ruins our home. Shards of stone fling into the sky. Fresh air fills my nostrils. Father scrambles out of the rubble. My Dragon feels satisfied to see fear widen his eyes.

Lunging forward, I snap my jaws, eager to bite him in half. He barely escapes my razor-sharp fangs.

Father doesn’t hesitate; he shifts, turning into a maroon Dragon almost double my size. I pounce, ripping into the delicate membrane of the ruby red wings. With only one eye, I don’t see his maw opening, only feel it when it clamps down around my jugular.

He shakes my head like a toy. Today is the day I’ll die; there’s nothing scary about that fact.

But I’ll be damned if I make it easy.

Flaring my wings, I lash out with my spiked tail. It lands in his thigh. He releases my throat with a roar. Before he can recognize what’s about to happen, I whirl and lunge again, using momentum from my wings to double the impact.

Our scaled bodies slam together; I rip through anything my claws touch. My fangs sink into flesh and shred whatever’s nearest. He does the same, but I barely feel it.

A mighty, bone rattling roar slashes through our battle. Magyck stronger than mine stops us in our tracks. Dropping his wing from my maw, I scramble off my father. The haze of bloodlust overwhelms the senses, but the magenta Dragon slamming into the ground halts it.

Still snarling at my father, I take a step back, then another. He does the same; those amber eyes never leave my face.

Aunt Teale shifts, marching toward us with a fury I’ve never seen from her. Her arms spread wide; she slaps her hands together, separating us with the brute force of wind.