Page 184 of The Chains You Defy

Fuck the headache blistering to life.

My grandfather raised a disinterested eyebrow upon my entrance. That fucker relied on me not being able to attack, and for the love of all the gods, the day I got rid of this curse, I would pulverize him. Dust in the wind would be all that remained of him.

Ascending onto the dais, I halted only inches from his body, towering over him. “You went too far this time. You broke a fucking bargain.”

“Scriosta, you are back. Have you been successful?” His tone was light, as if we were conversing about the weather, and his nonchalance drove me further into insanity. Blood was all I could see, hear, smell, feel, taste.

Attack.

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the fake firestone and hauled the bauble to my left with such force that the gem got stuck in the wall. “Now, I kept my word, and you went back on yours,” I snarled with more venom than ever before.

“It is not my fault your Amplifier chose to depart with Cantarlann.”

“Liar.”

Galrach laughed dryly. “I am not lying. She entered the coach on her own volition. I might have engineered a little scenario to encourage her to join him andconvinced Cantarlann to whisk her away, but a little meddling does not diminish both their free wills.”

“Why, Galrach?”

The High King didn’t move an inch, and neither did I. Seething, my chest heaved, and I was too enraged to be suspicious of why he was giving me information freely and willingly.

“Easy. His court might be the only place able to end the farce you set in motion. Do not tell me you are not aware of how the Courtlings hate ties of all kinds. Ask my brother if you forgot.”

I growled again, deep and feral. The most primal part of me rattled at its chains, eager to take over, and I was tempted like never before to obliterate those invisible restraints as I glared at my grandfather with all the hatred I carried for him in my heart.

“I am very curious how this little experiment will play out. Are you not?”

As usual, Galrach was unimpressed by my behavior. Darkness seeped out of me, pooled at my feet as I lost control more and more.

Hurt. Kill. Now.

“Oh, and Scriosta, if the situation is not self-explanatory enough, let me spell the order out for you. Neither you nor your little band of misfits will leave Alaiann to interfere or, gods beware, to retrieve the human vermin.”

“Fuck you. I’m done with you and your orders.”

“You will never be free of me, Scriosta. No, you will be my prisoner and property for as long as I still allow you to breathe. I will forever own you, and nothing you try will ever change the fact that you are my weapon to wield, forged by me long before you even drew your first breath. From the cradle to the grave, you are mine. So,be an obedient puppy and remain in your quarters until I demand your services again.”

“Never again.” Spinning on my heel, I noticed about a dozen guards hurrying to me.

So Galrach was stupid enough to believe that his lackeys could force me to follow his command. Fueled by my rage, fear, and thirst for revenge and violence, I growled at the approaching fae. The aggressive notes permeating the air would be the only warning they received from me. And when they didn’t heed the signals, I exploded.

Darkness poured from me unrestrained, drenching the throne room and everybody apart from my grandfather in inky tar. Shadows rose from the pit, curled around every fae present, and solidified.

My powers didn’t differentiate between antagonistic guards and bystander courtiers. Each of them was caught as magic in abundance spilled from me without me consciously dictating my actions. Screams of panic morphed to agony as large inky tendrils wrapped around everyone in the hall, the intensity of their terror fueling me to a point where no one could ever best me.

I was death incarnate.

At least five dozen lives were connected to my magic, and each victim’s heartbeat pulsed through the strands, reverberating through me just as much as their horror.

Sauntering across the throne room to the exit, I ordered my minions to dig their tips into their prey, impaling their flesh, and with a casual flick of my wrist for show, I activated a rarely used facet of my powers.

Once caught in my snare, the dying suffered the worst visions imaginable, imbued into their perception by my magic. Usually, I didn’t bother with artificial dread. The attack crippled the minds of my opponents, locked theminto their own wastelands of horror, and rendered them unable to move until they perished much too fast.

I disliked doing so because I preferred that the last thing my victims perceived before death was my face and not some random nightmare scenery. But today, I didn’t care.

Not a single one of the fae even tried to put up a fight. Around me, pure slaughter reigned supreme. Every second I’d spend dealing with the High Court was one too many. Prowling through the fading cacophony of screams, I ended all lives as I reached the exit. The only remaining sound piercing the air was Galrach laughing, and I forced myself not to dwell on how delighted the cackle of the male I’d soon be annihilating sounded.

The brown stallion beneath me must have some sort of name, but I hadn’t bothered to learn the moniker. Cath was too exhausted for the journey ahead, and I’d paid and blackmailed a stable hand to bring him away from Alaiann once my horse had recovered.