Page 13 of The Blood Queen

Stab her.

The will fizzles against her control.

Stab her!

I glare, pushing, fighting, arm shaking, knuckles white where I clench the dagger.

She smiles at me. “You truly think you could kill us, Samson? What would that little dagger do against us, the High Blade, the Scourge of the Seelie Courts, the Exiled? You cannot kill us. Only one high fae such as us has ever been defeated, and her defeat was our doing. You would do well to learn this quickly. We are infinite. We are eternal. And now you will get this barrier guardian to tell us which portal to the fae realm will provide us easiest access to our goals.”

My hand arcs down toward Alyth’s arm.

No. No!

I yank back, but nothing budges. I strain and strain, scream, fight—nothing.

The dagger pushes into the skin at Alyth’s collarbone.

My eyes fly to hers, tears burning down my cheeks. I’m locked in this body, this shell that’s controlled by the High Blade, and I’m seeing that moment, days ago, when I marched through Mary’s ballroom and tried to stab Alyth in the chest.

I saw it all then, but it was muted by my bloodlust.

This—this isn’t muted.

I’m fully here. Fully present. Watching my hand drag the dagger through her skin. I did that. I’m doing that to her.

I force my eyes to hers, trying to will her to see it in me, to see through me. This isn’t me. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.

Alyth’s face contorts in pain, and her chest flutters in frantic breaths.

No, no, no—

I fight so hard my vision speckles. I gag, body wrenching and spasming, and something tears, I don’t know what.

I’m pulling, fighting, and hot liquid starts to drip down my face; my nose is bleeding.

“Gavin’s Loch,” Alyth says, panic sheeting her face white. “Gavin’s Loch.” Then again, louder, until she’s shouting it over and over, “Gavin’s Loch. Gavin’s Loch! Gavin’s Loch!”

The High Blade is glaring at me, but she speaks to Alyth. “Gavin’s Loch? So far south, so close to your barrier?”

The dagger twists in my hand, carving a crude circle into Alyth’s collarbone.

I pull.

I fight.

Speckles of black swim across my vision, and I feel my eyelids droop, but I don’t stop fighting, won’t until I’m flat-out dead on the ground.

I’m hurting her.

I’m being used to hurt her.

She’s in pain, and I can’t save her.

Blood pours down my face, coats my lips, drips from my chin. I’m tearing myself to pieces.

“It’s hidden!” Alyth gasps, her words like a plea. “Beneath the water. The last portal in the lowlands. The fae court believes that since it’s difficult to get to, they don’t have to guard it as heavily on their side. It’s there, I promise. It’s there. Please, just—”

Alyth’s voice is defeated. Broken. She peters off into silence, wide eyes fixed up on me, and her sorrow breaks the parts of me that hadn’t shattered already.