Page 105 of Revenant

“I wasn’t finished, Alicent. Whores know when to speak, and it looks like your keepers aren’t doing a very good job at teaching you manners.”

I scoff, clasping my hands together in front of me because right now they’re itching to wrap around his throat. “Jealousy isn’t a good look on you. Perhaps you should go fist your hand and find some reprieve.” I throw his own words back at him, the ones he spat at Elias in his dream, and wait for the wound to open. It doesn’t. He’s masterful at burying what he feels.

He straightens his right cuff, unbothered, as if keeping his shirt pristine deserves more attention than I do. “Every look is a good one when it’s on this face.”

“You’re right…but only where Elias is concerned. That’s what happened, isn’t it? You saw him sink his fangs into me, relish in the taste that I willingly gave him, and you couldn’t help yourself. Does it get you off knowing you’ll never have me?” I can feel Pryce stiffen behind me. He’s gotten closer since this argument started, probably anticipating he’ll have to step in and save me from the big bad vampire.

But I don’t need saving.

Eryx takes a calculated step forward, something resembling hurt flashing in his amber iris before it vanishes—almost as though it was never there. I probably imagined it, knowing that’s how a normal person would feel if they were in this situation. But he’s not normal, he’s not even a person.

His stare is hard, pulsing with anger. He doesn’t blink as he speaks, wanting to witness exactly what his words do to me. “With the way you’re making it around the friend group, all bets are off. You’re no better than Veil. At least her hunger for attention had some dignity to it.”

The cruel comment hits me square in the chest, deflating me instantly. Is that really how he sees me? After all this time, he only views me as the woman who trapped him here? Who cursed him?

Pryce steps between us, snapping something at Eryx that my mind can’t comprehend over the ringing in my ears. I take a step back as Pryce shoves him, but Eryx regains his composure within seconds, like it was nothing more than a breeze.

My power beats with my own heart, thumping in tandem like it’s one entity. It festers like an invasion until it becomes one with everything I am, and I can’t tell the difference between my magic and the air entering my lungs.

I stare at Eryx, the memory of him on top of me, forcing me down while he took what wasn’t his, replays like a movie in my head. I can still feel the suffocating weight of him, how his hands felt like anchors wrapped around my wrists threatening to pull me under, how I was sure he would break me in half. And how the euphoria that courses through me when the others sink their fangs into me was nonexistent. Instead replaced by mind-altering terror.

It all happens faster than I can process. One second Eryx’s arm is cocked back, prepared to land a blow to Pryce’s jaw. The next…he falls to his knees. His body seizes, locking up like he doesn’t have an ounce of control. He screams out in agony, but I can’t find a single fuck to give.

Pryce takes a step back before his gaze lands on me, concern swimming in his eyes. My head cants to the side as I stare at Eryx’s withering form. His arm bends at an unnatural angle, the crack of bone echoing just over his scream.

“Tesoro, what are you—”

“How does it feel, Eryx? Do you feel helpless? Powerless? Like you’re completely at my mercy and there isn’t a thing you can do to stop it?”

Eryx peels one eye open, and if looks could kill…we would both be six feet under.

My magic washes over me in a wave, whispering promises of destruction if I keep pushing. This is euphoric. It moves past my fingertips like an extension of myself, coiling around Eryx like a python—ready to squeeze until there’s nothing left but crumbled bone.

He tries to move, but I push harder, causing him to land on his back, hitting his head with a sickening thump. His lips peel back in a sneer, teeth clamped together like that’s going to alleviate the pain I’m causing. Spit flies as he speaks, “Fuck. You.”

“Well, now, that’s not very nice.” My fingertips tingle, and I coax the magic to my palm, letting the heat blossom before our eyes.

“Alicent, I think he’s had enough.” Pryce’s voice turns wary, like someone trying not to spook a creature that could snap at any moment.

“I’ll say when he’s had enough! This isn’t your call. This isn’t your fight!” A flame appears in my hand, dancing on my flesh with purpose. My feet carry me until I’m standing directly over Eryx.

How the tables have turned.

His eyes move between me and the fire, and there’s something in his features I don’t think I’ve ever seen before.

Fear.

A smile breaches my lips, stretching until I can feel the heat on my teeth. “Terror is the cologne you should be wearing, Eryx. It suits you.” His back bows off the floor, his broken arm lying limp beside him as I send another wave of pain straight for his system.

“You don’t dictate my life,” I state, pulling a flame in my other hand. “And you sure as hell don’t get to use me as your own personal blood bag. I don’t give a rat’s ass if you rot in a fucking casket.”

I hate him. With every fiber of my being, I hate him. Loathe his very existence. I’m done being his doormat, done letting him walk all over me like I bend to his will.

Now he bends to mine.

He cries out, his leg snapping as I keep pushing more of my magic through him when he doesn’t reply. Eryx’s eyes spring open, his chest heaving as saliva sprays through his clenched teeth. “Do. Your…Worst. You can’t…kill me.”

Stubborn mule.