Page 5 of Glutton for Punishment

Something inside me shatters.

Suddenly, everything goes silent, frozen, like the universe sucked in a breath and held it.

Just as quickly it screams out, radiating from me as my power rips to the surface.

The world narrows as an orb of pure chaos bursts into being. The air around me convulses, bending as if reality itself is protesting.

A violent storm-black void, liquid and hungry, lashes outward like it’s breathing, consuming the space between me and the cell bars with an insatiable appetite. The surge throws me back as the edges snap and tear. It blankets the very matter around it, eating it, as if life itself is being rewritten in that small, impossible space.

It wants everything. Not to touch, not to break—only to consume.

My vision blurs, and in a heartbeat, it’s gone.

In its place is a giant, gaping hole in the metal bars of my prison cell.

The silence that follows is deafening as Blaise staggers away from the broken bars. The terror breaks through his smug veneer, and he calls for the guards.

My eyes move to Atticus. “You will not touch him,” I say, voice steady even as I try to process what just happened.

Guards rush in but hesitate as they see the hole in the cell. Blaise’s sharp, impatient glare is enough to push them forward. Rough hands seize me, cold steel biting into my wrists as they snap cuffs that look like metal bracelets shut on each hand.

Another pair moves toward Atticus, whose body remains limp as they cuff him as well.

“Power suppressors,” Blaise says as he straightens his coat and runs a hand through his blonde hair.

“Necessary precaution.”

He spins. “Take them to another cell. Keep them separated.”

Something sharp jabs me in the arm as my mind slows and my eyes fall shut.

***

Cold stone presses against my face as I regain consciousness.

At first, the pain feels far away, dulled by a haze. As my mind comes back to me, it creeps closer, demanding attention. It presses against my spine, my shoulders, the back of my skull. My mouth tastes metallic, and my tongue feels thick and useless.

Sound comes next. Muffled. Distorted.

“Arwen—Arwen!”

My name cuts through the haze. I try to move, but my limbs respond sluggishly, heavy as if they’re filled with sand.

The world swims when I force my eyes open as the memories assault me.

The Council chamber in the academy—torches flicking, eyes greedily drinking in my pain.

Maddox.

His intense stare as the potion dripped from my fingers, golden red, mixed with both our blood. His eyes steady as the world burned around us.

Maylo’s laughter, high and unhinged.

Atticus standing before his father, spine straight, voice unwavering. “She is my bond.”

My chest tightens sharply, breath hitching like I’ve been struck.

Atticus. ATTICUS! My eyes fly open.