The mont my eyes snapped open and my vision clawed its way back into focus—adjusting sluggishly to the dim, smoky light leaking from the fireplace’s dying embers—the situation crystallized into place with horrifying clarity.
My breath caught in my throat—actually seized mid-inhale like soone had physically grabbed my lungs and squeezed—surprise taking hold of with the grip of a vice as I stared up at the figure straddling my body.
It was Elvina.
She was directly on top of , knees planted on either side of my hips with enough pressure that I could feel them digging into my ribs through the thin fabric of my dress.
Her face was contorted into an expression of such absolute distress it looked as though soone had taken every negative emotion known to mankind, distilled them into their purest form, then painted them across her face with brutal efficiency.
Rage twisted her delicate features into sothing almost unrecognizable—lips pulled back to expose teeth clenched so hard I could practically hear them grinding, nostrils flared with each ragged breath, eyebrows drawn together with such force that deep lines carved themselves into her forehead.
But it was her eyes that truly captured the full scope of her ntal state. Those erald depths—which I rembered as cold and calculating during our match—now burned with the kind of fury that suggested rationality had packed its bags and fled screaming into the night, leaving nothing behind except raw, wounded rage that had nowhere to go except outward.
They were bloodshot now, the whites threaded with angry red veins that spoke to hours of crying, sleeplessness, or both, tears still clinging to her lashes in tiny droplets that caught what little light remained.
Her hair had co completely undone, the careful styling she’d once worn reduced to chaos. Wild strands of black spilled around her face in uneven waves, falling like liquid shadow given form, clinging to tear-damp skin and framing those burning eyes in a curtain of darkness.
It lent her a feral quality—less like a composed noblewoman and more like sothing cornered, wounded, and dangerous in the way only desperate creatures could be.
The careful grooming I’d seen during our match was gone, replaced by tangles and snarls that suggested she’d been pulling at it with desperate hands, so sections matted together while others stuck out at angles that defied both gravity and aesthetics in equal asure.
In her trembling hand—and gods, was it trembling, the motion so pronounced I could see the muscles in her forearm jumping beneath her pale skin—she carried a wicked-looking knife.
The blade was long and curved slightly, designed more for causing pain than quick kills, its edge catching the faint firelight to throw back gleams that looked almost hungry.
She held it pointed directly at my throat, the tip hovering re centiters from skin, close enough that each ragged breath she took made the distance fluctuate in ways that sent shivers flooding through my veins.
My first instinct was to move—every survival chanism in my body screaming at to dodge, roll, get away from the sharp object currently threatening your jugular—but the mont I tried, panic detonated in my chest with the force of a small explosion.
My limbs wouldn’t respond. Not because I was paralyzed by fear, though that was certainly trying its best to contribute, but because they were physically restrained. I could feel sothing wrapped around my wrists and ankles, not rope or chain but sothing cold and wrong.
My eyes darted down to confirm what my body already knew. Magically condensed shadow stretched from the natural darkness cast by the dying fireplace, black tendrils that looked almost liquid wrapping around my limbs with crushing pressure.
They pulsed slightly with each breath I took, tightening fractionally whenever I attempted movent, the magic responding to my struggles with malicious intelligence.
Oh fuck.
The realization hit with gut-punching force—I couldn’t use my disappearing ability when bound. The displacent into that alternate reality required unrestricted movent, needed my body to slip between planes of existence, but these shadows held firmly anchored to this specific mont in this specific place with no escape route available.
I grimaced, the expression pulling at muscles in my face as my brain frantically cycled through options and found each one increasingly unhelpful.
Elvina began to speak, though calling it speaking was generous—it was more like stamring punctuated by barely controlled sobs, words tumbling from her lips in a torrent that suggested they’d been building pressure for days.
"You—you destroyed ," she spat, the words carrying venom that would’ve killed any lesser man through sheer concentrated hatred. "Everything I had—everything I was—you took it all! My reputation, my patron, my dignity, my future—all of it gone because you decided to humiliate in front of everyone who mattered!"
Her free hand ca up to grip the collar of my dress, fingers twisting in the fabric with enough force that I heard a few threads snap. The knife pressed closer, its edge now touching my throat, cold tal making contact with warm skin in ways that made my heart attempt escape velocity.
"You made into a joke. A cautionary tale. Sothing people whisper about and laugh at. Do you have any idea what that feels like?! To have your entire existence reduced to entertainnt for people who used to fear you?"
She leaned in until our foreheads nearly touched, her face filling my entire field of vision, those erald eyes boring into mine with an intensity that felt almost physical. "It’s ti to exact my revenge. Ti to make you pay for what you did to . Ti to—"
I saw my opportunity then—small, desperate, and absolutely guaranteed to co back and haunt in ways I’d regret for however long I remained alive after this mont. Knowing full well I’d hate myself later, I lifted my head just enough to close the minuscule distance between us, catching Elvina in a kiss that was more invasion than affection.
My lips crashed against hers with bruising force, tongue imdiately pushing past her shocked defenses to invade her mouth with the kind of dominance that left no room for interpretation.
I could taste her surprise, her rage, the salt of tears mixed with sothing bitter that was probably the residue of whatever alcohol she’d been drinking to work up the courage for assassination.
I let myself feel into the mont completely—not because I wanted to, gods no, but because the theft required connection, needed that spark of genuine contact to trigger the exchange.
Elvina’s eyes went impossibly wide, pupils dilating until they nearly swallowed the erald irises whole, her entire body going rigid with shock before instinct kicked in.
She pulled back violently, sitting up straight enough that her spine cracked audibly, the motion making her weight shift on my hips in ways that would’ve been interesting under literally any other circumstances.
Her free hand flew up to cover her mouth, fingers pressing against lips still wet from our contact, horror flooding her expression as her brain tried to process what had just happened.
The emotion lasted approximately three heartbeats before fury returned with redoubled intensity, her face twisting into sothing almost demonic as she raised the knife with clear murderous intent.
But it was already too late.
During that mont of contact—while our mouths had been pressed together and her guard had been completely demolished—I’d already stolen her ability.
Shadow magic now threaded through my veins, foreign and powerful, settling into my core with the weight of sothing that didn’t quite belong but had decided to make itself comfortable anyway. I could feel it responding to my will, eager and hungry, waiting for direction.
Clenching my fists with deliberate focus, I commanded the shadow tendrils binding to dissipate. They obeyed instantly, dissolving into smoke that curled upward before vanishing completely, freeing my limbs with such sudden totality that I nearly punched myself in the face from the recoil.
Elvina’s expression cycled through confusion, comprehension, then absolute dumbstruck horror as she realized what I’d done. Her mouth opened around words that hadn’t ford yet, the knife beginning its downward arc toward my exposed throat—
I didn’t spare a single second for dramatic posturing or witty one-liners. My body launched upward from the bed with enhanced strength flooding my muscles, propelling straight at Elvina with enough force to knock the air from both our lungs.
We collided in a tangle of limbs and fury, montum carrying us off the mattress to crash onto the floor in a heap of thrashing bodies and muffled cursing.
The knife slipped from Elvina’s grip during the fall, skittering across the ground with a tallic clink that sounded impossibly loud in the confined space.
For one heartbeat we both froze, our gazes tracking toward where the weapon had vanished, before instinct overrode conscious thought and we lunged for each other instead.
Elvina tried to summon her shadow magic, her face contorting with concentration as she reached for power that should have answered her call—but I was already moving, my hand shooting out to grip her throat with fingers that dug into soft flesh.
The mont contact was established, I channeled displacent through my palm, feeling the energy surge from my core down my arm to scramble her internal magic with ruthless efficiency.
The effect was imdiate. Elvina’s magic shorted out like soone had cut the power, her concentration shattering as conflicting signals flooded her nervous system. Her body went slack for a fraction of a second, muscles losing cohesion as my interference wreaked havoc on her ability to coordinate movent—
Then fury alone smashed through the bodily effects with force I hadn’t thought possible. Her eyes blazed with renewed hatred, rage providing the kind of strength that made normal physical limitations feel like polite suggestions she’d decided to ignore.
She surged back against with a violence that felt almost supernatural, her hands finding my shoulders to shove with enough power to send rolling backward.
We grappled across the floor in a desperate tangle, neither willing to give ground, both fighting with the kind of frantic energy that ca from knowing this was life or death with no middle option available.
I tried to maintain my grip on her throat but she twisted away, her knee coming up to drive into my stomach with enough force to make wheeze. My hands scrambled for purchase, fingers catching in her hair before she wrenched her head sideways, nearly taking my fingers with her.
"You ruined !" she scread, the words barely coherent through her rage, spit flying from her lips to land on my face. "Everything—everything—I had nothing left and you—you kept going—"
"Give up!" I demanded through gritted teeth, trying to wrestle her arms down while avoiding the wild swings she kept throwing. "Elvina, stop—this won’t fix anything—you’re only making it worse—"
"Worse?!" The word ca out as a shriek that probably woke half the theater. "How could it possibly get worse?! You took my patron, my reputation, my dignity—you let that orc use like—like so—" She choked on the words, fury temporarily stealing her ability to articulate the full scope of her suffering.
We rolled again, knocking into the bed fra hard enough to make the entire structure shudder. My elbow cracked against wood with a spike of pain that made stars dance across my vision, but I couldn’t afford to acknowledge it because Elvina was already moving, trying to pin beneath her weight. I got one leg up to brace against her hip, using my enhanced strength to shove her sideways before scrambling after her.
"You attacked first—in the barracks—you terrorized my friends—you—" I gasped out, trying to inject reason into a situation that had sailed past reasonable hours ago.
She snarled back at , managing to get both hands around my throat before I broke her grip with a sharp twist that nearly dislocated her thumbs.
Her hands scrabbled across the floor then, searching desperately for sothing, before her fingers found what they were looking for. The knife. It must have slid back within reach during our struggle, tal glinting in the dim light as she wrapped trembling fingers around its hilt.
She couldn’t pull herself to her feet—didn’t have the strength, her body too wrung out from fighting, my displacent, and gods knew how long she’d been awake before attempting this assassination. Instead she sat collapsed on her knees, posture graceless and defeated, before pointing the blade outward in shaking defense.
"You could’ve killed ," she said, voice breaking around the edges. "During the match—during the fight just now—at least a dozen tis you had openings you didn’t take. Why? Why not just—why make keep living with what you did to ?"
I said nothing.
Emotions rose within Elvina then, building like a wave approaching shore, visible in the way her entire fra trembled, the way her breathing hitched, the way her grip on the knife wavered between attack and collapse.
A few tears—just a few, subtle and sohow more heartbreaking than full sobbing—slipped down her cheeks to drip from her chin.
"I was born into that family," she began, words tumbling out in a rush. "The Veylith na—do you know what that ant? What they did to before I even understood what was happening? Those experints, those rituals, they didn’t just study them—they perford them on their own children to make us better, to make us powerful enough to maintain their legacy."
She laughed, the sound hollow and broken. "And it worked. I was stronger, faster, my magic more potent than it had any right to be. But the cost—gods, the cost. I was seven when they showed what souls looked like being ripped from bodies. Nine when they made participate. Twelve when I realized I’d beco sothing that couldn’t feel normal emotions anymore, just the performance of them."
The knife shook harder in her grip. "So I leaned into it. Beca the monster they created. Hurt people before they could hurt . Used my position to crush anyone who threatened my security. Mia—" her voice broke completely, "—Mia was just another slave to . Just another person I could use to prove I was in control."
She was degrading herself now, words spilling out in a confession that felt almost religious in its intensity. "I’m a whore. A broken, twisted thing pretending to be human. I abused everyone I had power over because that’s all I knew how to do. I deserved what you did to . I deserved all of it. The humiliation, the exposure, the—the everything!"
The blade moved then, shifting from defensive position to press against her own throat, its edge dimpling her skin without quite breaking through.
"So thank you," she whispered, fresh tears flowing freely now. "Thank you for showing exactly what I am. Now let finish what you started."
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