Page 31

Clarissa

M agic jolted through my body, like molten gold lighting every cell on fire. I stretched my arms out wide as the wind whipped at my hair, sending it whirling around my face.

My fox half slammed back to life. It was like…like coming home after a lifetime away. Like having a veil lifted from your eyes and finally seeing the sun once more. It was beautiful. Freeing .

And the curse…it had stopped moving.

Sparks burst behind my eyes. I barely contained a groan as the familiar magic soared in my bones, my veins, my heart. That empty well inside me filled to the brim with warm, glowing power, as if a dam had been released.

But…

The magic kept coming.

It poured from me like a torrent of water. When I tried to grasp it in my hands, it slipped right through my fingers, flooding me. Panic bubbled up inside my chest, colliding into me, spilling over.

It was too much.

I couldn’t control it.

Magic exploded from my feet all the way to the tips of my ears.

I staggered to my feet and met Thorne’s eyes for a split second before my fox half burst from beneath my skin with a snarl that echoed across the village.

My red fur rippled in the breeze, my claws sinking into the crumbled soil as my muscles and joints screamed for release.

Every sensation barreled into me. Every sound, smell, taste. Along with all the heightened emotions I’d been suppressing these past few days. The fear, the anger, the adrenaline and irritation were all sharp claws scraping at my mind.

It was an onslaught. My limbs vibrated with the force of it. It clouded my vision, making everything hazy, and when a shadowed form stumbled closer, I let out a growl. My ears stood so straight, an ache formed from the strain.

I flinched when a muffled voice called out to me. Other sounds filled the air, more unfamiliar forms closing in.

A hand reached out, and I snapped.

I swiped my paw through the air, connecting with something solid. My claws embedded themselves into soft flesh.

“Clarissa,” the voice said with a grunt of pain. I retracted my claws, and the fog in my mind lifted. A man fell to his knees at my feet, clutching his chest.

Thorne .

Four jagged claw marks striped the front of his linen shirt, with a line of blood trailing from each.

When I caught the eyes of the remaining men around us, I whined and started to take a step forward.

The scent of dirt and sweat and something else emanated from them in waves. Something sharp and metallic. Biting.

Fear.

Their eyes went wide as they took me in. Shouts filled the air, some scrambling backward while others grabbed forgotten rakes and shovels from the ground, pointing the sharp ends toward me.

My heart plummeted. Memories from my childhood slammed into me, those dark days of sneers and taunts echoing in my ears. Fists against my skin, shears plunging into fur, black and blue blooming on tender flesh.

Those people from my past had feared me.

Even as a child, they were scared of my lack of control.

Of the volatility of a young Shifter, of the daughter of the despised emperor Branock Aris.

They made me hate my own power. They made me unable to sleep at night for fear of waking up the next morning and enduring it all over again. The shame, the pain, the mockery.

Another whine escaped me as I padded backward, tail burrowed between my back legs. One man leaped forward with his rake aimed at me, and I saw that same fear from almost two decades ago. History repeating itself.

They still hated me .

With a groan, Thorne lurched to his feet to stand in front of me. He threw out a hand at the advancing farmer and commanded him to stop. When Thorne turned to face me again, his features softened, his breaths still ragged.

He took a cautious step forward. Tension hung thick in the air, coiling in the waves of summer heat like a snake ready to strike.

My ears flattened against the side of my head as my eyes flitted across all the strangers, taking in their curled lips, their pinched brows, their taut muscles.

They landed once again on Thorne, and all I could see was blood and scars.

My fault .

Thorne extended a hand, and I flinched.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Clarissa,” he murmured.

I let out a quiet whine as I pawed the ground.

“ You hurt her ? She almost killed you!” a gruff voice called. The man with the rake pointed the end at me. “She’s a monster. A beast . Her kind are dangerous,” he spat.

Others raised their voices in concern, their words pounding down my spine like battle drums. I shook my head, limbs quivering as I took another step back.

“Clarissa, wait—” Thorne called, but it was too late.

I turned and darted toward the hill.