But that’s not fair either.
It’s not. . .
I force my body to stop but my momentum keeps taking me forward. Protecting my head, I curl into my body as my shoulder hits the ground first.
I roll into it to prevent from breaking anything because of the impact, but it won’t help stop the bruises. With the force I’m sure I’ll have scratches and bruises that’ll take a bit before they fully heal. At least I hit grass and not the stone pathway.
I roll a couple times before I come to a stop and gasp out a breath. I open my eyes and twinkling lights blink at me. I landed on my back and as I uncurl my body I find nothing broken. Scrapes and bruises for sure, and everything aches, but no broken bones.
The stars above me go blurry before tears roll over the outer corners of my eyes. I don’t remember the last time I cried. The devil loved when I would cry for him, but the mage always hated it. That’s the only time when she would beat me herself.
Heaving a breath, I furiously wipe my eyes and sit up. Thunder from further away rumbles low and menacing as I survey where I had run to. Towards my right is a house I remember from my first week here. The same house Asher had led us to.
Stone House.
Thorne’s house.
I stand up and shove every ache and pain into the recesses of my mind. Instead of the self-hatred and shame and regret I focus on the rage. So, so much rage I’ve collected over the years. I’ve harbored like coins of treasure, hidden within the deepest part of myself.
Memories of the sun devil and his fated mage and their beatings and markings I let flood my mind. The times when I was forced to drink the devils religious blood and his fated’s rotting water mage blood. When they wanted me to mark them as the devil marked me.
I let my mind fill with the memories of after them too. The lust filled foster men who would try sneaking into my room at night. Or the ones who would beat me until I couldn’t move and then try to use me. Or the foster woman who let their jealousy fuel them and wanted to burn and scar mybeautifulface. Wanted to beat the carnal attributes right out of me.
So much rage. So much fury.
So muchwrath.
Music and song was my escape from all of it. I was safe. And at least when I would sing it would distract them from wanting to beat me more. There had been a whole month the devil left me alone so long as I sang to them. I couldn’t even hate it because music was mine and I have only ever sung for myself.
So why does he have power over me.
Why did he sneer as though I didn’t have the right to sing.
Why did he hate me more because of it.
My blood flickers with a life I haven’t used since I was ten. A type of burning from flames igniting my bones as I start walking towards the house.
My foot lands on the first step and the doors are thrown open. It lands on the second and the structure of the house groans. I step onto the porch and the foundation trembles.
No one stops me as I enter. The closest creature with enough blood in their body to concern me is still deep within the walls of the main building of the university. I don’t waste time letting my aura flood the space. A mist of red roving through the halls, seeking what I wish.
There’s a flutter near my left ear and I lift my hand to allow the spider to climb on. The bright orange and white pumpkin cat peers at me with six black eyes as I softly stroke the top of his head. He’s been lurking around the window of my room and tonight he seemed like he wanted an adventure. I’m glad he survived my tumble.
When I figure out where Thorne’s room is I let my little friend climb back onto the top of my head and then I make my way up. Of course Thorne, House President and son to the demon chairholder of the Mage Board, has an entire suite to himself.
His double doors get thrown open like the front ones did the second I face them. I’m first greeted by an open foyer with a whole wall made of glass exposing the large balcony. Thorne’s blood and thunder scent drenches the area. His aura is so strong that threads of it are still lingering about.
I curl my hands into fists as I survey it all. To the right is where his bedroom is. The left some sort of office. The door to it opens and allows me to see a wall of books.
I shouldn’t. Knowledge holds power, but the grief has shifted and all I want is for him to feel what I felt. I want him to know what it is to be shown unfairness. I want him to know what it is to burn.
Internally, there’s a click. A key finally twisting in a lock it’s been kept in forever.
I uncurl my hands and stare at the space with deadened eyes. Glancing back I lock eyes with red. Pure, damning, wrathful. I tilt my head up at myself through the mirror and then allow that door inside me to open.
I have never been afraid of fire. Not even when the devil tried burning me with flames instead of the sun. That kind of burning. . . it felt like comfort instead of pain. It was the only time I never scarred.
Flames dance as they consume the room. Worls of different shades of blue curl around my hands as I watch the destruction. Keeping it contained to this suite and all the things within. Letting my fire burn Thorne’s life here to ash. Just like he tried to do to me the first day we met.