Аманда Хокинг - Ascend

He stepped forward and raised his hand. He struck me across the face, backhanding me so hard I flew across the room and slammed into a wall. Everything that I sent flying in the air collapsed to the floor around me.

Loki had tried to warn me about how strong Oren was, but I hadn’t understood until then. It was like being hit with a wrecking ball. My side ached terribly from where I’d crashed into the wall, and I probably had broken my ribs. My leg felt like it snapped, and I was lucky I hadn’t broken my neck.

“I hate to do this to you,” Oren said, and at least he wasn’t smiling when he said it. “But I told you what would happen if you went against me.”

I pushed myself up so I was sitting, still leaning back against the wall. He towered over me, and I steeled myself, waiting for him to hit me again. But instead, he went over to his chamber doors and opened them.

“Bring him to me!” Oren shouted out into the hall. He left the doors open and returned to me. He crouched, his black eyes meeting mine. “I warned you. I gave you every chance to join me. I wanted you with me, not against me.”

“I would rather die than serve you,” I said.

“I see that.” He reached up, meaning to wipe the blood from my forehead, but I pulled away from him, even though it sent shooting pain through me. “Well, the good news is you won’t die alone.”

He rose and stepped back from me. At the same time, Kyra and another Vittra came into the room, carrying Loki with him. I hadn’t seen the other Vittra before, but he was huge, a barbarian of a man.

They were literally dragging Loki. They held him by each arm, and his legs trailed limply on the ground. His head hung down, and blood dripped from his temple.

“No!” I shouted, and Loki lifted his head at the sound of my voice. He looked over at me, and it was clear they had beaten the hell out of him.

“I’m sorry, Wendy,” he said simply. “I tried.”

“No,” I repeated and struggled to my feet. My body didn’t move the way I wanted it to, but I ignored the pain. “No, don’t hurt him. I’ll do whatever you ask.”

“It’s too late.” Oren shook his head. “I promised you that I would make you watch him die. And I am a man of my word.”

“No, please,” I begged him. I stumbled over to a chair and leaned against it, holding myself up, because I couldn’t stand on my own. “I will do anything. Anything.”

“I am sorry,” Oren said again.

He walked over to the wall where the two long swords still hung, the only things still intact in the room after I had sent it into a flurry. He pulled one down, the diamond encrusted bell guard covering his hand.

I tried to use my powers to stop him. I held out my hand, pushing out what energy I had left. Some of the lighter things in the room stirred, like papers and a curtain, and Kyra winced. But Oren was unruffled.

“Loki’s met with this blade before,” Oren said, admiring the sword. “It seems fitting that it will be the one to finish him.”

“Please.” I let my hand fall to the side. “I will do your bidding. I will do anything.”

“I’ve already told you.” Oren walked back, stopping in front of Loki. “It’s too late.”

Kyra and the other Vittra held Loki higher, and Loki grunted.

Tears streamed down my face, and I could think of nothing to do.

My powers weren’t working on him. I wasn’t strong enough to fight him. I had nothing to barter.

Still staring at me, Oren lifted up his sword, and with one quick move, he stabbed Loki straight through the heart.

Kyra and the other Vittra instantly let go of Loki, and he collapsed on the ground. They both held their heads, clutching at them, and at first, I didn’t understand.

I couldn’t really think or feel anything, except that I had been ripped in two. It felt as if Oren had torn my heart from my chest, and I had never felt such consuming pain or anger as I did then.

Blackness surged through me with an intense heat. I didn’t even really know what was happening around me. Everything felt like a hazy blur.

Then I saw Oren, squinting and touching his own head, and I remembered.

I could do something with my mind when I was frightened or angry. I’d done it to Tove when he tried to wake me, and I’d even done it on a smaller scale when Elora had been torturing Loki.

That act - that intense fear or anger - unlocked a power inside me. I did something to people inside their heads, causing great agony. It usually only lasted a few seconds, but I had never been as pissed off before.

As soon as I realized what I was doing, I harnessed it and directed it toward Oren. At first, he looked confused and simply started backing up. He kept squinting and tilting his head, as if he were staring at a very bright light.

In the back of my mind, I knew my body should hurt, but I felt nothing. I walked toward Oren, and he began to hold his head. He fell to his knees. He was moaning and begging but I couldn’t understand anything he was saying.

Both Kyra and the other Vittra were curled up on the ground, and Kyra was actually sobbing. I went over to Loki, refusing to let myself actually see him, to really believe he was dead, and I pulled the sword from his chest.

I walked over to where my father was slumped on his knees, bent forward. His hands were clamped to his ears. He was muttering at first, but when I raised the sword over my head, I heard him begin to shout.

“Make it stop!” Oren yelled. “Please! Make the pain stop!”

“I’ll put you out of your misery,” I said, and I swung the sword down, slicing through his neck.

I turned away so I didn’t have to see it, but I heard his head fall to the ground.

I stood there, still holding the sword, and looked around the room. The haze had faded away, and pain returned to my body. My body screamed in agony, and my legs threatened to give out underneath me. Kyra and the other Vittra had stopped writhing and they both sat up.

“Go,” I said, struggling to catch my breath. “Tell them the King is dead.”

Kyra looked at Oren’s corpse with widened eyes, and she didn’t question my orders. She and the other Vittra scrambled to their feet and ran out of the room, leaving me alone with Loki.

I dropped the sword and rushed to his side as quickly as my body would let me. I knelt next to him, and pulled his head onto my lap, but it lolled to the side. Blood stained the front of his chest, and I put my hand over the wound, trying to press the life back into him.

“No, Loki, please,” I said as tears streamed down my face.

“Loki, stay with me. Please. I love you. You can’t leave me like this.”

But he didn’t move. He didn’t breathe. I bent down, kissing his forehead as I sobbed, and I didn’t even have words for the pain I felt. With nothing else to do, I began to wail.

“My god, I’m too late,” someone said, and I turned to see Sara standing in the doorway. She looked at the dead King, her husband.

Loki had saved her life once, and she was a healer. She would be the only chance I would have at saving him.

“Help me,” I begged her and tried to hold Loki up to her.

“Please. You have to help him.”

“I…” Sara didn’t answer for a second, and then she ran over to us, kneeling on the other side of Loki. “I don’t know that I can. He might already be gone.”

“Please,” I cried. “You have to try.” She took a deep breath and nodded.

“Do you have any energy left?” Sara asked.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. I felt weak and drained. Hurting Oren had taken most everything out of me.

“Well, help me, if you can,” she said. She put her hand on top of mine, the one that covered the hole in Loki’s chest. “Give me any energy you have. I need all I can get.”