Chapter 55

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WARNING: This chapter contains themes that may be triggering for some individuals. Such subjects include but are not limited to: violence.

ELLE
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

A thousand times. I would go through this moment a thousand times if it meant saving those I love. If it meant starting over, picking up the shambles of the world and rebuilding everything piece by piece. That is the thought that drives me to lunge forward. No weapon on hand. No power. No plan. Just a drive to end this. A drive to make them pay for the hurt I feel and the hurt they have caused others.

Titus is knocked off his feet as my shoulder rams into him. Both of our bodies go tumbling onto the polished wood floors, smacking hard against the surface. I stumble to my feet and quickly stomp down on his wrists with my leather boots, holding his hands in place and preventing him from using his lightning.

Titus thrashes below me. He is strong enough to throw me off of him, but my will is stronger. I hold my ground, pressing all of my weight into my feet.

A loud crash echoes behind me and I tilt my head over my shoulder to witness Keaton advancing on Gore.

My brother swings his fist at the king, but Keaton dodges and extends a hand of his own. His eyes swirl with blood, turning a glassy crimson.

Gore furrows his brows, limping backward away from the Bleeder. "Well, this is not fair," my brother grumbles.

"Is that so?" Keaton laughs, looking and sounding every bit the monster he is. He takes a confident step toward Gore. "Afraid you'll lose, Mr. Crimswell?"

My brother simply rolls his eyes, examining the king in front of him with a lazy smirk. "I'm not sure if you are aware, but this isn't entirely a fair fight." He pauses, backing away further until his back hits a desk. Keaton comes closer, moving like a lion who just cornered his prey. "But I wouldn't go so far as to say I am 'afraid to lose,' King Keaton Bloorust."

Keaton shrugs, clenching his fist in front of him. Gore's eyes go wide and his neck visibly strains. Blood dribbles from his mouth and down his chin as the king wields his ability.

"We'll see about that. I am not one who has a habit of losing. Winning on the other hand . . ." he prowls toward my brother, leaning over him as he chokes on his own blood, "I have grown quite accustomed to."

My whole body shakes with unfiltered rage. In the moment, I completely forget Titus below me and grab for Keaton, wrapping my arms around his throat and tugging him to the ground. He lands with a gasp. I press my fingers into his neck until his face grows purple.

His nails dig into my wrists, drawing blood as he attempts to pry me off of him.

"You should get used to losing," I say coldly, from where I hover over Keaton's face. Sweat breaks out over my forehead with the effort of pouring my strength into keeping him beneath me. "Because you are going to lose everything to the 'Serf' girl you raised."

His eyes roll back into his head and his grip loosens off my wrists. A rush of adrenaline courses through my veins. A few more seconds and Rivara will be left without its tyrant king. A few more seconds and I will have the power to free the Serfs of this kingdom. The thought makes me press my fingers harder into his flesh.

A jolt crashes through my body, burning my insides in a single wave. I cry out in agony as I'm flung backward into the wall and smack my head against the stone upon impact. The room appears to tilt on an axis as I try to combat the dizziness that is betraying my vision. Smoke sizzles around me. The smell of burnt flesh tickling my nose. My whole body jitters and twitches. "And they say getting struck by lightning is rare," I heave, clutching my stomach in an effort not to throw up. "Suddenly I feel bad for Alec's victims."

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