He was the last warrior of the old gods, she was born with the power of the new. In a war for the soul of a kingdom, two enemies will find their biggest battle is resisting the other.
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Trigger warnings - strong language, violence, sex and re...
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Helia woke to the lick of cold steel against her throat. She gasped, and the pressure intensified. She could feel the burn as the dagger carved into her flesh.
"Erric!" she spluttered. Her twin was crouched above her. In the dim candlelight, she could see his eyes, the same amber shade as her own. The rage that blazed there, untethered and wild, appalled her. She had never seen such a look in his eyes before. "What are you doing?"
"You remember this game? Don't you, dear sister?" He spat, pressing down on her throat a fraction more. Memories slammed into her. She tried to force them down, but they bubbled to the surface in a flurry of sensations. The clang of the water jug hitting her bedside table. Bronson's power forcing the icy water into her lungs, dousing the flames glowing in her palms as she squirmed and scratched under his weight.
Erric's laughter as he watched from the other side of the room.
Then a hollowness would overcome her. Her mind would soar out of her body, travelling to the distant lands Tomaz told her about - the mountains of Kolassi, the snow-tipped forests of Nordland, or the dry heat of Sidomma isles. Any place but the one she was in.
"He thinks he can treat me like I'm nothing. I am a prince of Chrysia. A Chrysos. Neo lives in me. And the demon thinks you belong to him. That you're his for the plucking, but he doesn't know. He doesn't know who truly owns you..."
His eyes were wild. The events since the siege had distorted him into something gnarled, something deformed. Those same events had affected her too, but so differently. What had broken Erric, had risen her up. She had stood before the golden army and commanded them as a leader. She had held her ground before a horde of fearless Nordland warriors.
She had a looked the berserker in the eye and made him change his mind.
"Get off me!" she roared, pushing herself up. She let the dagger dig deeper into her skin. It stung, and she felt fiery blood trickling down her neck, soaking into her nightclothes.
"You will do what you are told...!"
Fire cascaded from her hands even before she'd even ripped them from the bed, the sheets scorched in their wake. She screeched, her hands flying to his face, but he was quicker. He dropped the knife, and using his command of the air, blasted her hands back onto the bed. He wrenched the breath from her lungs until she couldn't speak, she couldn't scream.
"I am in control here! Me!" He ranted, his words lost in the fury of his wind. The room shuddered, furniture rocked, and the curtains whipped against the wall.
She felt it. The sharp tip of the dagger against her wrist. She struggled, her fingers reaching, fighting towards the handle. Erric continued with his onslaught above her. She felt faint. The lack of air made her head throb. She fought to stay awake.
His air was too strong. She couldn't manoeuvre the dagger upwards, the angle was all wrong. So swiftly, she slid the dagger downwards, burying it into his knee. He yelped and tumbled off the bed.
