“Pity, you’ve ruined the only clothes I brought with me,” I say, my lips forming a frown.

  The crow darts towards me but a whistle stops it from clawing at my face. Not that I would have let it. I was fully prepared to strangle the tiny bird.

  “You hurt him,” Hagen’s deep violet eyes glow ever so slightly and fury is etched all over his face.

  “He stole my bag.”

  My hands tighten on the daggers and I attack the nearest target—Elisia draws her sword to block my knives. I sidestep and twist my body, aiming for her stomach. A low, guttural sound escapes her lips as my dagger meets flesh.

  Her twin, Seizel, lunges at me in an attempt to save her from my next strike. I kick her aside and turn to him—a second too late— his body weight hits me with full force and we both fall to the floor. He knocks the daggers out of my hands and tightly grips my throat, crushing my airways with his strength.

  My lungs burn and the room seems to blur as I struggle to get him off. I tightly grab his wrists and heat surges into my palms. The acrid stench of burning clothing, and flesh, fills my nose as Seizel’s wrists simmer and he lets out a shriek. The pressure on my neck disappears and I finally push him off. I hurriedly stand up and turn to face the last two people but I am caught off guard to see Hagen standing, thighs no longer burning. He whistles and the crow speeds past my head, emitting a metallic aroma.

  “Your little bird missed,” I smirk and pick up Elisia’s sword.

  Just then, a sharp pain drives into my skull. My knees buckle and I hit the ground hard, gasping for breath as stars dance around in my vision.

  “What?” I gasp as I feel a familiar burning sensation rise within me. It should not be happening now, not when I took that poison a day ago.

  Serevin kneels in front of me and whispers, “Give up, little serpent.”

  “The little bird wasn’t the weapon. It’s this,” he says, taking off his left glove and waving his hand between us. It emits a glowing, purple dust and I smell the same scent from the crow.

  “Just as the Nexus gave you magicke, I can take it away. Now, swear allegiance and I’ll make that pain disappear,” he muses.

  “You can’t kill me. Your reputation relies on it,” I barely manage to grit out.

  “I won’t. Instead, I’ll do this over and over again until you’re an inch from death,” he threatens.

  I glare at him as the familiar sensation intensifies, as if my body cannot handle the poisons I ingested. It is only a matter of time before the haunting memories follow, and before I burn to death. I will not suffer throughout this whole situation.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  “Fine, I swear,” I sigh.

  “Hagen, take her to her room. And make sure she stays put,” Serevin orders as he takes off the gloves from his right hand and places it on my forehead. Just like that, the symptoms of poison disappear. He tosses the gloves at me and they do not melt with my touch.

  “Wear them and keep them on,” he adds as he stands up and walks to Seizel’s unconscious body. Elisia cradles her twin as the poison eats away at his wrists.

  Hagen abruptly hooks his arm around my waist, forcing me to stand. I am weak as I take the first step up the stairs and a dagger— my dagger— shoots in my direction. Hagen swiftly stirs the both of us away.

  “What the fuck?!” he exclaims, whipping his head around.

  Guilt flashes across Elisia’s face and she sheepishly mutters, “I was aiming for her.”

  “This trouble better be worth it, Sev,” Hagen glares at Serevin. He is the first among the three to call him that.

  Hagen shows me to a small room with a single bed and barred windows. The furniture looks worn and mismatched like the rest of those within the cottage. At least it has a bathroom with a shower, a toilet bowl, and a sink.

  What a downgrade from my bedchambers at the Chameleon headquarters.

  He locks the door after handing me a bag of clothes to wear and stations himself outside. I change into the loose shirt included in the plain selection and move the bed next to the window. The rest of the day is uneventful, with his presence on the other side of the door as my only company.

  The next morning, I wake up to the sound of someone unlocking the door. At least the people back at Chameleon actually knocked.

  “Oh great, you actually remembered to feed me,” I snort as the smell of roasted chicken fills the room. I sit cross-legged on the bed and Serevin looks away.

  “You should put on pants,” he says.

  “I would’ve if you knocked first,” I roll my eyes. Where are his manners?

  “I’ll leave this here,” he replies, placing the plate on the table and moving closer to me. He pulls on the blanket on the floor and tosses it on top of me, covering me whole. I shove it off my face and glare.

  “Dress decently, one might think we’re keeping a prostitute locked up in here,” he says.

  “Oh, do you wish for one?” I tease, rolling my eyes.

  He ignores me, sits on the bedside table, and says, “I come here to bring news of our departure from this land.”

  How unguarded. Well, I would be too if I made a murderer swear an oath that forbade them from harming me.

  “The next ship bound for Haskova sails a week from now. You’ll stay in this room until then. Should you need anything, you may call on either of the twins,” he explains.

  I swiftly reach for the broken shard of glass hidden underneath my pillow and aim for his throat— only for the magicke to kick in and strangle my own.

  Serevin is unfazed, “I was wondering why you were so well behaved.”

  “It wouldn’t hurt to try,” I grimace.

  It did hurt.

  Very much.