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A Cursed Embrace(112)

By:Cecy Robson


No one noticed Shayna drop her miniscule sword beside me as they dragged her away. I snatched it quickly, concealing it between my hands before a were yanked me back by my hair. Shayna’s horrified screeching echoed the length of the hallway. Emme’s sobs teetered on the verge of hysteria. I breathed heavily, inundated by a strange sense of calm cooling my bruised skin.

Matar watched me, expecting me to cry, I supposed. But I wouldn’t. “I’m going to kill you,” I promised through gritted teeth. “I swear to God, I will annihilate you!”

Matar smiled. “Your spirit requires more of a beating.” He sniffed the air around us, only to shoot me an embittered look. “My spores are precious, Celia. If I scented the ripeness of your womb, I’d take you now.” He looked to the werewolf next to him. “But Bryan has plenty to spare.”

Emme choked on her screams. “Take your time with her,” Matar told Bryan on his way out. “If she fails to satisfy you, you may have the other one next. Come, my Tribesmen, there is much to be done.”

Bryan tore off my shirt before the door leading out slammed shut. Emme jerked and struggled to get to me while I methodically adjusted the tiny weapon between my fingers.

Bryan sneered with anticipation but never got the chance to grope me. I rammed the tiny sword into his eye and twisted. He collapsed to the floor, unconscious and barely breathing.

Emme stilled with apparent shock as I cut through her restraints. But when I slipped Shayna’s weapon into her hands, she didn’t hesitate to free me.

“Emme, listen to me. I’m going to cut the bullet out of your leg so you can heal. Go ahead and scream. The others will just assume Bryan is hurting us.” I placed her on her side for better access to the wound. “When I’m done, you have to do the same for me. We need our powers back. It’s the only way.”

Emme nodded and closed her eyes. I worked fast, the stress of the situation making me brutal. I ignored her agonized cries, and within just a few minutes, dug the bullet out.

Emme’s pale yellow light stuttered, surrounding her in barrages rather than encasing her smoothly. The feel also lacked its usual intensity, and her healing seemed unusually slow. She failed to notice, or least chose not to, and began to cut into my skin with our makeshift scalpel. The urgency made her physical motions quick. She removed the first two bullets with a surgeon’s ease, allowing the start of my strength and senses to return. The last two were harder, and took more time than we had. One lodged deep in my thigh; the other, in my hip. She tried to distract me by talking, but I didn’t like what she had to say. “Celia, promise me if we’re caught again, you’ll kill me.”

“What?” I gritted as she twisted the blade deeper.

“Promise you’ll kill me. I don’t want those creatures to touch me. I don’t want to bear one of those things. You have to kill me, promise.”

“But then who’ll kill me?” I asked, not wanting to answer her.

Emme locked eyes with mine, revealing a fierceness I’d never seen. “You’re going to live, Celia. You’re going to make it. There is no doubt in my mind.”

With that, she pried the last bullet out.

My unholy scream caused the Tribesmen outside to break out with laughter. Jesus, no way could we have pulled this off earlier.

Bryan stirred beside us, snarling and reaching for his injured eye. I tackled him hard and ripped his head off with ease. And absolutely no regret. It rolled into the corner, colliding against the dusty cinder block.

Bryan’s death at my hands empowered me. My tigress returned full force, thirsting for blood and desperate for vengeance. I hauled Emme to her feet. “Let’s get out of here.”

We rushed to the small window and peered out. A giggle escaped my lips. I clasped my mouth to suppress another, and another one after that. It seemed strange to laugh, but I instinctively knew why.

I beamed at Emme. She gaped at me like I’d finally snapped. Her hands reached to touch my face. “I need to heal you,” she whispered.

I grasped her wrists, my grin widening. “There’s no time, Emme. Misha’s here.”





CHAPTER 31





Massive explosions shook the prison. The lights flickered. A deep crack emerged in the wall next to us, quickly branching upward toward the ceiling. I threw myself on Emme, knocking her to the floor and shielding her with my body as chunks of concrete rained down. Echoes of pained howls and vicious roars pounded against the door. Emme remained beneath me, covering her head. A primal scream from what sounded like a woman made me lurch off her and scramble to the window.