Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 65167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
I lunge, driving a kick into his chest.
He flies backward—again—but this time he catches himself and stays suspended in midair.
“Well done,” he growls, floating toward me and crackling with black flame. “You’ve learned control. But control means nothing if you won’t use it.”
The moment he says it, I feel it.
Pressure slams into my temples like a vise. He’s in my head. Pushing. Trying to force me to my knees. My vision wavers. For half a second, my legs buckle.
I roar, and the power inside me swells.
I shove back—hard—and his eyes widen as his own pressure begins to crack. My magic floods the area—brighter, sharper, hotter than his. His force shatters like glass against mine.
And then I’m moving.
A punch to the jaw, spinning back kick to the gut, a brutal upward strike with the heel of my palm that snaps his head back.
He recovers, snarling, and sends a rock flying at me with his mind.
I catch it midair and hurl it back twice as fast. He ducks, but not in time. It grazes his temple, and blood trails down his cheek.
I inhale.
I remember the scent of demon blood, but his is ten times stronger than Eris’s.
I tamp down the blood lust.
Never will I take blood from a demon again—especially not this one.
He lifts a hand, ready to unleash something bigger—but I’m already there. I catch his wrist and twist, my magic wrapping around his like a noose.
“Getting tired?” I ask through clenched teeth.
His answer is a guttural growl and a wave of heat that sears across my left arm.
“Fuck!” I scream as fire burns my skin.
With a twist of my magic, the fire is gone, but my skin is charred, and the acrid smell of burnt flesh sends rage whirling through me.
I’m done playing.
I lift him. Not just a few feet, but ten. Then fifteen. I hold him suspended in the air with his arms flung wide. He tries to resist, but I feel the strain in his limbs, the desperation starting to bleed through the arrogance. I clench my fists, and the force tightens around his throat.
“I should end this,” I say, my voice shaking with anger. “After everything you’ve done. To me. To her.”
His bloodshot eyes find mine. And then he laughs.
That low and vicious laugh.
“You don’t have it in you,” he rasps, choking on the power pressing into his throat. “You’ll never kill your mother’s husband.”
My pulse stutters.
For one heartbeat, my magic quakes.
He feels it. Smiles wider.
But I recover and twist the tendrils of magic harder. Just enough to make him gasp.
“I’m not her,” I whisper. “And if ending you costs me my mother, so be it.”
I tighten the pressure again.
And this time, I don’t let go.
68
As the pressure builds, fear finally creeps into Richard’s eyes. A low, pathetic whimper escapes from his mouth. It’s a sound so unlike anything he’s ever made before, it almost takes me aback.
But I don’t let up.
“Say it,” I command, my voice cold.
“Say what?” he chokes out.
“You know what. Say you’re sorry. Not just for what you did to Larissa and me, but for everything. Your subjects hate you, you know. They want this to happen.”
He gags on his words. “I...” He gasps for air again. “I’m...sorry.”
Liar.
He’s not sorry. Not really. But that doesn’t matter now.
Beneath me, he writhes and squirms, his form flickering in the air like a dying candle. The proud demon king is reduced to nothing more than a battered shell of his former self, held up by my will alone.
“I don’t believe you,” I spit back.
I tighten the magic around him further, a smile curling over my lips.
The thought of killing the demon king…
The man who cost me my mother?
Tighter…
Tighter…
Tighter still…
I have him.
Pinned, helpless, broken beneath the weight of my magic. I twitch my fingers, and the force around his throat intensifies. His eyes are bloodshot, lips cracked, but he still smirks at me like he hasn’t already lost.
“I knew you didn’t have it in you,” he rasps. “You’re just like your mother. Soft. Sentimental.”
Wrong.
I lean in closer, my voice like ice. “I’m nothing like her.”
The air hums around me, my magic straining at the edges. One final push, and his spine will snap like a twig. One flick of my wrist, and the demon king will be nothing but a bloodstain on the ground.
But then the atmosphere shifts, sudden and suffocating. The magic around me thins. Pulls. Recoils.
I spin around.
And there he is.
My father.
The vampire king.
He doesn’t need an entrance. He is the entrance. Tall, cold, wrapped in power and shadow. He moves through the ether like it belongs to him. His silver hair, thick and unruly, spills over his brow. The black leather duster he wears hangs heavy to his boots. His brown eyes lock with mine, and for the first time tonight, my breath stutters.
“Step aside,” he says quietly.