Page 181 of Daughter of the Serpent

She tried to call the magic again.

But something had opened.

And something else was already inside.

“Get out… of my…head!” she bit out, her voice torn between desperation and defiance as she clenched her teeth, her jaw aching from the effort.

But it was too late.

Pain - raw and merciless - splintered through her mind like shards of glass. It wasn’t just in her body; it was inside her thoughts, twisting them, desecrating them. Bjorn had slithered his way into her consciousness, and now it felt like he was cradling her mind in his palm - squeezing, slowly, deliberately.

She screamed.

The sound ripped from her throat, primal and hoarse, echoing into the night like the cry of a wounded animal. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed against the stone, its cold bite slicing into her skin - but even that couldn’t distract her from the firestorm in her skull.

“You’remine.” His voice sliced through the din like a serrated blade.

She heard it - but just barely. The sound came from far away, distorted.

And then - the voices.

You're nothing.

You’re weak.

You’ll never be worthy.

You’ll never make it.

You’ll die.

They flooded her mind like poison seeping into water. Familiar voices. Voices she’d heard in her worst moments - twisted echoes of her fears, her doubts, her own inner demons given shape and sound. She thrashed on the ground, clawing at her skull, as if she could rip the voices out with her bare hands.

“No!” she cried, her voice cracking under the weight of the agony. “Get out! GET OUT!”

“Slit her throat!” Bjorn barked somewhere above her. “I have her in my grip!”

Then - a sound like thunder tore through the trees.

A roar. Deep. Violent.

It reverberated through the ground, shaking the earth, crashing through the chaos like the fist of a god.

Heads turned. Men cursed.

But she couldn't find herself to care. She could feel the pain like claws scraping the inside of her skull. Her magic flickered, but it was lost beneath the rising surge of torment. It was only when she heard the first body roll, that she regained her consciousness.

A thud.

A scream.

A spray of blood.

Then another.

Through the haze, something broke. Cracked open. She blinked hard, and slowly, the storm in her head began to fade. Like mist lifting off a bloodied battlefield.

Then she saw it.