“Leave now, or I’ll slit her throat,” Midas threatens.
Fear pounds down my limbs. No one moves a single muscle.
“You won’t kill her,” Slade snarls. I don’t know if it’s denial or a promise.
“If I can’t have her, no one can.” Midas’s cold, calculating voice makes my heart drop. Because I can hear the truth binding his words. He would rather kill me than let me leave. He’s betting on both of our lives that Slade won’t risk it, and he bet right.
“Go now, Ravinger. You have thirty seconds, or I will kill her.”
The Wrath shift on their feet. Fake Rip looks at me, fury flickering over his face.
But Slade’s gaze is locked on me. “Use your ribbons,” he urges, and a choked sob curdles from my cinched throat.
“I can’t.”
Midas pulls my body closer, his hold banded around my waist so hard that it’s a struggle to breathe, especially as he chuckles against me. “Oh, she didn’t tell you? She lost that privilege.”
Slade’s eyes drop when Midas motions to my left hand where the ribbon is still tied loosely around my limb.
Something like appalled torment flushes over Slade’s face as his eyes flash from my ribbon and back to my face. “Auren...”
Tears that feel like fire burn down my cheeks, and my chest expands with the cry of rumbling rage that builds like a storm.
“She’s helpless and completely at my mercy, and she will die at my hand if you force it.”
My anger lifts up her head from the billowing clouds, the word helpless echoing inside of them, clinking with electric frenzy.
“Ten seconds, Ravinger,” Midas barks against my ear, but I don’t hear him. I don’t hear what Slade says back either, or note the agonized hesitation on his face as my eyes flutter closed.
Because there’s thunder in my ears.
The furious, feathered, snapping beast is brooding on a storm, and I’m ready to watch it rage. Wings opening, teeth gleaming, her eyes as gold as mine. And her screech, that call that ruptures like lightning, it doesn’t shatter a sea. It shatters me.
A scorching threat opens up in me like a crack in the earth, and maybe Midas can feel it too, because his steps stumble.
My mouth opens with a decadent inhale, and this anger, it’s like a breath of fresh air that I never let myself take before.
But I’m breathing in now, and I find I like the taste.
My eyes wrench open, body unfurling, a roaring of storm-ravaged waves filling my ears. I look down at my hands, at the fire that burns beneath the skin, and I feel nothing but untapped, wild, raw power.
The night may have stolen the sun, and Midas may have stolen my ribbons, but I’m not helpless.
And all at once, I’m calling to the magic not under the control of others, not ruled by the sun, but by me.
Because every gilded inch, every piece of metallic glint I’ve wrought is mine.
Another inhale sucks into my lungs as I sag against Midas’s hold, blade forgotten, time suspended. I open my mouth and tip up my hands, calling to the gold I’ve made.
And it answers back.
With fire in my eyes and a flap of furious wings in my chest, I bring my gold thrashing to life.
The floor goes molten; the walls bleed; every goblet, drapery, instrument, chair—they all turn viscous and malleable, melted down by the pure fury that burns in my veins.
Highbell guards scream as their armor suddenly liquefies, and with a flick of my wrist, I make it swallow some whole. More dives down their mouths, gurgling their screams. The ones who run get trapped by the gold floor, sticking them in place and refusing to let them go.
Even the gilt blade held at my throat melts in an instant, Midas jerking back, hand opening with a yelp of surprise.
I whirl around, another flick of my wrist making the gold at his back peel from the walls like thick paint. In an instant, the gluey tendrils reach out and snag him, tearing him off me. His body plasters against the simmering wall as the curtains drip down like gilt molasses and wrap around his torso, tying him in place.
“Auren,” he cries out, but his voice is lost to me. My creature is out in full-force, and she doesn’t answer to him.
I turn back to the pounding feet of the fleeing armored men. With a twisted smile, I take them without mercy, because mercy was never shown to me.
One after the other, I use whatever is closest, the gold going wherever I direct it.
The chandelier drips piercing needles of gilt rain, stabbing one guard straight through. The sconces on the wall melt like candle wax and drip onto the head of another. The ground swallows three more whole, their struggles going still as statues, bodies half buried into the floor with their screams.
I see the skirts of Queen Kaila’s dress as she escapes, her gilded crown, necklace, and shawl left behind in her flee. My creature tenses in irritation, but I turn to the rest of Highbell and Ranhold’s soldiers, ending them with relish.
My pulse pulls at my veins, a demanding pace set by my racing heart.
Because it’s not enough. This release of revenge, this unleashed power, it’s not enough.
An infuriated screech caws in my ear with a thundering boom, every flap of wing making me feel higher and higher, my spirit taken flight on the wind of my storming fury.
I kill every single guard in the room, not stopping until their screams and running steps are trapped in the clammy grip of my gold that crushes and swallows them.
The ballroom has turned into a veritable sea of livid gold waves ready to flood the world.
“Au-Auren...”
My beast and I turn, eyes gleaming as we lock onto Midas, who’s stuck against the wall, body half frozen into it, and my mouth tips up into a vicious smile that’s not my own.
The second he held that blade to my throat, I knew I didn’t just want to escape him. I wanted to destroy him.
His eyes are wild as a golden grasp of fingers holds him in place, his body suspended. He’s the one who’s well and truly helpless.
“Let me go, Auren,” he pleads, his voice high-pitched as he struggles. “You don’t want to do this.”
I feel my head tilt, feel my creature blink. “Oh, but I do.”
My voice singes, landing against his ear and making him twitch with the burn.
“Auren. Precious...”
A cruel, fiery laugh sears my throat. “I’m not your Precious.”
I stand before the man who has done nothing but use me, lie to me, manipulate me, threaten me, and abuse me for over ten years. I look at him, and hate looks with me.
He flinches as I lift my hand and place it against his cheek, letting the ruined strip of my ribbon brush against his skin. I lean in close so that my voice can heat his face, so that he can look me in the eye and see the fury searing my vision. “You can’t cut off the strings of your puppet and still expect it to move for you.”
He balks, the rest of the blood in his face draining away.
I move my palm up and then drag my finger against the crown still resting on his head.
He may wear the crown, but I was the one who made it gold.
With just a thought, I make the sharp ends of each spire curve. The gold crown bends in a bow to me, in a nod of who’s truly in power. He thrashes as it clutches him like claws, digging in just enough to make small droplets of blood bead against his forehead.
My gaze bounces between his eyes, soaking up the fear there, soaking up this moment as my gold soaks up everything else.
Then, I lean in and whisper, “Goodbye, Midas.” I place my lips against his cheek, because he defeated me with a kiss, so why shouldn’t I do the same to him?
He chokes with a sob, or maybe it’s a curse. I don’t know and I never will, because the second my lips lift from his skin, a gilt kiss is already there imprinted on the spot. Golden fragments, as fine as powder, that I pulled from the air and left to glint against his cheek.
/>
Then, I pat the spot with my finger.
Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.
Five times—not six.
With a smirk, I back away as he thrashes, but my magic already has a hold on him. The hooked fingers of the wall clutch him, the gleaming spot I left on his cheek moving, searching, slinking over his face before it wraps down his throat, a hard edge cutting into the spot where he’d held a blade to mine.
He fights it, oh, he fights it.
I make him feel every inch of it as it devours him whole. Because with everything he’s revealed, everything he’s done, this is what he deserves. He let gold consume him a long time ago. I’m just letting it finish the job.
After a handful of breaths, the liquid metal begins to dribble out of his mouth, bleeding from his eyes, more drops falling out of his nose.
The gold he coveted so much, the gold he loved more than anything else, eats him alive.
When it has a hold of his heart, I let it finish him, stealing his last beat. I watch the last of his fight, the last of his life, leave his body like water draining out, until there’s nothing left of him.
He’s dead.
Dead, dead, dead.
The gold throughout the castle shudders.
Then, with a sweep of my hand, I encase his body completely, dark satisfaction lifting my lips. I turn away from his shocked, unmoving face, at the chest that no longer rises, at his fused mouth, his silver tongue now swallowed by my gold.
I take a breath, feeling that my beast is gratified.
...Gratified, but not appeased.
Because my anger isn’t quenched. My power bubbles and twists, slinking like lava, pushing me to keep going, demanding more.
The angry monster in me still wants to punish. To kill. To wipe out everyone and anyone who stood by and let me suffer. As I look around at this room that now ebbs and flows by my calling, a destructive temptation ripples across the floor, and I realize something.
Instead of being afraid of the world, I could make the whole damn world afraid of me.
With a devilish tilt of my lips, I stride forward, bringing the gold with me like the swell of a sea. But it lugs now, a heavy weight that makes my breath heave, sweat breaking out upon my brow. With great strain, I pull at the magic, pushing past the sudden surge of exhaustion as I head for the archway.
I can’t stop now. I want to swallow this castle whole, trap everyone in it. Let them be smothered in their own covetous greed. I want to let my power scour the land, clear across the Barrens, right back to Highbell. I’ll let it devour everything in our path, and I’ll—
Someone steps into my path.
A gilded wave pauses behind me, risen up into the curl of a punishing crest, my hands shaking with the effort to hold it.
The creature in me blinks, snapping at the interruption, but the crackling anger falters, because we recognize him. Recognize the dark aura of power that arcs around him like smoke.
“Goldfinch, can you hear me?” he asks gently.
My head cocks, though I don’t answer. Gold weighs down my bones and slouches my shoulders as I struggle to take in a full breath.
The male steps forward, an inky black form against the shine I’ve wrought. “Auren, you can let go now.”
My brow furrows. Let go?
I don’t want to let go. I want to continue to rage. I want to take my gold that was stolen from me, and punish everyone in my path. I want to be the monster that’s been held back for far too long.
The male takes another step, and my beast screeches at him, though he doesn’t seem deterred. He should be running away from us, should be terrified like everyone else, but instead, he keeps coming, closer and closer, until he stands just a foot away. “You need to let go, baby. You’re draining yourself.”
My mouth drops into a frown.
“Draining?”
Eyes so dark green they look black are locked on my face, caressing over my own gaze. “Yes,” he says quietly. “You need to drop the magic before you hurt yourself.”
My back bristles. “My gold won’t hurt me.”
“It already is.” He tips his head, and I look down, though I don’t see anything amiss.
“Your aura is fading,” he tells me. “You can’t see it, but I can. I need you to breathe and let go of your power.”
Panic surges up in me. If I let go of my power, I’ll be weak again. Helpless.
Fury sparks in my eyes, and the gold flexes behind me like fingers clenching into a fist. “No.”
“You’re alright now. You don’t need it,” he vows, and despite the anxiety running through me, his voice is deep and soothing, calling to another part of me, a part buried beneath the anger.
But my beast fights against it. She doesn’t want to let go, though every second that I hold the gold makes my strength wane, my limbs heavy and numbed.
“I want everyone to hurt like I hurt,” I say through gritted teeth.
“You punished the one who mattered.”
Something wars inside of me. A weight is dragging me down as my magic demands more. I let some of the gold behind me lope down and seep through the archway. I let more break the windows, yank on the pillars. I let it climb the walls of Ranhold, following the screams and running footsteps, searching to swallow…
More, it whispers. More.
But he comes forward in another bold step, interrupting my concentration, distracting my magic’s reach. He stands right in front of me, his aura curling around me as he takes up my sight, my hearing, my smell. I can’t help but breathe him in, the metallic storm clearing from my nostrils, the scent of wood and soil and bitter chocolate filling me instead.
He touches my cheek, lets his rough hand skate over my skin. “Come back to me, Goldfinch.”
I shudder, and his touch yanks at my awareness, splitting away from the anger driving me. My eyes widen, vision clearing from the haze. “Slade…?”
He nods. “That’s right, baby. Let the magic go.”
I swallow hard, suddenly feeling the weight of the power, how it’s crushing me.
My legs start to give out, but Slade catches me before I fall, though his hands land on my back, making me cry out in pain and yank away from him.
“Oh goddess...” I stagger, but it’s not from the raw ache of my ribbons, it’s the pressure of the power bearing down on me. “I can’t!” My voice cracks out, lands in a heap as my eyes fill with panicked tears. “I don’t know how to let go!”
A curse flies from Slade’s mouth for a moment before he grabs my arms to hold me. “Breathe, Auren,” he commands.
My eyes are wild, bouncing around the ballroom, at the gold that suddenly feels like it’s closing in on me. “I can’t control it, I can’t—”
“You can,” he growls in my face, the coils of his own power twisting like roots along his jaw. “Try, Auren. It’s your power, it answers to you.”
But he’s wrong. This isn’t my power at all. This is something born from inside of me, from the raging anger I held in too long.
My entire body shakes from the crushing weight of it, and all around me, the gold starts to boil and hiss, and it takes everything in me to hold it back. Even still, it slinks forward, creeping, pushing the boundaries. My heart leaps into my throat when I see it inching around Slade and trying to latch onto his feet. I shoot my hand forward to direct it away, a terrified gasp flooding from my surging chest.
I barely have the might to send it back, but more is advancing, a ripple going through the floor, edging nearer. I have no idea where everyone else is, but terror grips my chest. What if I killed the Wrath, or Digby, or innocents? And yet, that’s what is going to happen, because my control is fading fast.
“It’s going to hurt you!” I cry, hands now scrabbling to push him away. “Go, Slade, I can’t...I can’t hold it back much longer, and I don’t know how to stop it!”
Hands land on my cheeks, cupping my face, and my eyes spring
open, though I hadn’t realized I’d even closed them.
“Look at me.”
Frightened eyes lock onto him. “You have to leave.”
But the stubborn male shakes his head. “I already told you. If you think I’m leaving without you, you’re out of your damned mind.”
The echo of his previous words brings a sob up my throat as exhausted, terrified tears track down my face.
How quickly this astonishing power turned so disastrous. How quickly it overwhelmed me.
I can’t do what he’s saying. I’ve never had good control over my magic, and now, it’s running rampant, its will trying to buckle my own.
“Auren, your aura is fading fast, you have to let go!” he pleads.
There’s alarmed fear in his eyes now, and his aura lurches around me, like it’s trying to grasp onto my own to keep it from fading. I’ve never seen him look afraid before, and the sight of it makes me tremble.
I can feel myself draining, but if I let it go like he wants me to, then the tentative tether I have on the gold will give way. It will unleash on him and anyone else in its path before it settles, and I can’t let that happen. I made the gold unleash with the heart of a beast, and now, its single-minded will is to destroy.
“Leave. Please,” I beg.
I shudder with the effect of the drain, of trying to hold onto this power that’s overtaken every part of me.
My vision blacks out, and I slump, ears roaring, though I don’t know if that’s the magic overloading my veins, or my galloping pulse. There’s a tug through my gut, like my very life-force is being pulled on, and it tears a ragged breath from my panting chest.
I can hold it. I will hold it, until he’s out of harm’s way, for as long as my exhaustion can stand it.
My eyes are heavy, my breathing labored. Sweat drips down my neck and stings the jagged cuts of my ribbons, and I feel something in me sinking.
I’m dying.
“Dammit, Auren, you don’t have time. Let go!” Slade roars.
I open my mouth to tell him I can’t, but all that comes out is a pitiful whimper.
Gleam (The Plated Prisoner Series Book 3) Page 49