In the old romantic fairy tales, this would be the part where a Prince springs in to save the poor maiden from the hands of the beast.

But this isn't a fairy tale.

And in truth, the Prince is the son of the beast.

“Father.” Caster’s voice is filled with shock and about a billion other emotions I can’t identify. “What is…Adria?”

“Help.” I croak trying to move against the bindings holding me to the ground. When that doesn’t work, I use my voice to sound the alarm. “The king…raising…demon…”

I hear footsteps behind me that signify Caster walking toward me but then he’s stopped in his tracks.

“Dad.” I hear him say in a hushed tone. “Your eyes. They look different.”

“Leave,” The King growls sounding more beast than human.

“Not until I know what’s going on. And what you’re doing with Adria.”

The King chuckles, and I think I sense the otherworldliness in his voice. I shiver at the sound of it, at the oppressive aura that fills the room. I want to escape. Every particle inside me screams at the danger, and the King's curse is working inside me too.

The burns from the wound are reaching into my abdomen, scorching up to my heart. I gasp and wheeze because it’s getting harder to breathe. The poison inside me is moving, spreading, and dulling my sensitivity to the outside world. It's not pain necessarily I'm feeling, but it's not comfortable either.

And then the voice starts speaking in my head.

Give yourself to me.

The voice doesn’t sound like Lo’s. It’s whispery, clamoring around my skull, and eerie like a block of ice slid down my spine.

Give yourself to me, conduit.

“Do you think I answer to you, boy?” I hear the King bark with my outside ears, although he's starting to sound more distant. “Leave now. Or I will make you regret it.”

“No.” Caster’s voice is quiet with a core of steel I’ve never heard before. Then again, I don’t think I’ve ever heard Caster defy the King, and especially not for me. “Release her now Father.”

“You don’t even know what she’s done, you stupid boy!” The King's voice booms and a second later I hear a slam. I twist my head desperately, nearly screaming in despair to find that the King has slammed Caster against the wall, holding him up by his neck. Caster’s eyes bug out. He jerks and wretches, clawing at his father’s arm but the King doesn't release him.

“You don’t know how disappointing it is that you’re the one who lived while the others died. It must be fate's cruel joke. You are nothing like me. You are weak and foolish and birthing you is the biggest regret I’ve ever known.”

Caster. I try to gasp but I don’t have enough air to do so. In the flickering light of the lantern, his face is turning purple, and his eyes starting to showing blood vessels. The King is squeezing the life out of him. I need to save him.

You should worry about yourself first. The Voice whispers. Let me in.

"No," I gasp and shut my eyes as though that will save me. It doesn't. Even without the visual of Caster on the wall, I can hear sounds of him choking to death. I'm in torment as the dark voice surrounds me, suppressing my thoughts until it's the only thing left.

I will give you power. Unimaginable power. Power to kill that man you despise so much right now. I'll give you the power to defend your friends. No one will be able to hurt you again.

No, I repeat silently but this denial is not as confident, not as certain. The temptation for release from my bondage and pain is overwhelming me, especially as it’s accompanied by the images.

I see myself at different points in my past, being the hero I've always wanted to be. I see myself slaying the soldier who killed Savannah right before he shot his arrow. I see myself jumping off the ledge and saving Jace from his eventual demise. I see myself acting differently in all the other timelines, saving my friends from danger.

I see myself slaying the Empress.

Then I will be beloved. I will be powerful. I will be infinite as time.

Yes. All that will be yours. Just accept my deal. Forget about everything else and let me take over. You are tired, are you not? Tired of losing. Tired of fighting and tired of facing their scorn and their mockery. You will no longer have to do that with me. I will be your champion.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

I will be yours.

And you will be mine.

The final two sentence echo like two voices speaking at once. One voice is mine, the other is his but they're joined together as one. A taste, sweet like wine, is on my tongue. I swallow it down, while a part of me screams in my subconscious. It’s the most sickeningly sweet thing I can think of but it doesn't feel bad going down my throat. It's actually refreshingly easy.

There are no more arguments in mind against his offer and no defenses.

I want to be a good person. I want to be a hero.

But that's not the role fate assigned to me.

Fate led me here. It led me to my death three times.

Lo's game has me failing constantly.

Maybe, I should play a different game.

In the background, I hear Caster choking. I open my eyes in time to see him wrap his arms and legs around the King's arms twisting it the same way I did to mountain. He doesn't have enough strength to twist the arm out of the socket, but he does it again and the King releases him. As soon as he drops to the ground he gets to his feet again. Coughing and wheezing, he unleashes his dagger, and charges at the king. His eyes are wild now, and the King knocks him back into the wall again effortlessly, fighting him with a bored look on his face.

Caster charges again, ducking under the King's arms and jamming his knife into the King's chest. The King doesn't react. He picks Caster up and throws him to another wall, hard.

Caster slumps to the ground unconscious.

"Stupid boy," The King sighs, his voice dripping with contempt. "Can't even kill me correctly." He starts walking toward Caster, and I jerk.

I need to help him. He’s going to die.

Let me in.

I fight back with what I know.

If I chose you, many innocent people will die.

Innocent? The voice mocks. Were they innocent when they ridiculed you for something which you had no control over? When they bullied you and made you feel small? When they abandoned you over and over again? When they despised you, mocked your heritage? There are no innocents here, only the strong and the weak. Choose me and I will make you strong. Abandon Lo’s game and stop being his puppet. I will show you true power.

You know Lo? I ask.

Of course. I am the better brother. Choose me little one and let us make magic together.

The feeling is no longer unpleasant as it starts spreading through my bones. It’s warm like being in Wolf’s coat or being wrapped in Wolf’s arms. Staring into his eyes and having him kiss me and drag his tongue all over my body. It's the most comforting thought I can imagine in a time like this, and I want to sink into it, and hand over control to the voice so I don't have to think or do or be anything anymore. So I can just be with the phantom Wolf who is smiling at me, reaching out to me. I just need to take his hand.

No.

I look to the side and oddly enough, I see another image. Not of Wolf. Or the Prince. Or Savannah.

But of the man in the market. The one who gave me the free cob of corn smiling gently at me.

That one act of kindness remained in my mind all that week. I never ate the corn, because it made me happy to just stare at it until it went bad in my basket.

That man will likely die if I choose what the voice says. He will never be able to grow corn again.

He will likely die anyway.

"No," I say firmly. "No, I don’t choose you."

The heat is no longer a pleasant warmth. It’s invasive turning my body from ice cold into an inferno. I see the prince now. His chest is being crushed under the King's feet. The king is holding the memory stone over his head and I don’t know what he’s doing only that I have to stop him. Because once he finishes with Caster, he will come over, and complete the ritual. I may not have a choice then.

I need help. At my weakest, I need to call on something else to aid me. Inner strength as Savannah calls it.

Internal energy, phantom Wolf declares.

Mana. You're stronger than you know Adria.

Maybe now that Lo isn’t taking up space inside me, I’ll be able to feel it the way Wolf taught me.

It's a crazy undeveloped thought but it's all I have for now.

I reach deep inside myself and meet the void but I reach deep into that too. I pull inside myself and suddenly I feel a burning heat but a different kind. It's not from the inside out. It's like a pleasant heat on my skin like the sun shining for the first time after months of winter.

No! I hear the voice yell as it fades. And suddenly the King looks away from the unconscious Caster staring at me.

"Stop that!" He orders but I ignore him concentrating on the heat growing and growing and growing.

And suddenly the band holding me snaps.

I'm free.

At the same time, the King flashes over to me up and drives me into the wall. But this time it doesn't hurt. I'm stronger. I'm better.

I glare at him and smile, seeing my reflection in his eyes.

My eyes are glowing too.

"What have you done, you bitch?"

"Defied you, bastard," I spit in his face. My hand shoots out, driving into his chest, and the force throws him back several feet. He roars and charges at me and I duck, kicking his prosthetic leg off and sending him sprawling on the floor. Then I grab Caster's dagger on the floor, and in less than a second, I'm on top of the King.

I feel powerful and slam my heel into his chest, cracking his rib cage. He howls and spits out blood.

I do it again, on his arm breaking bone.

He tries to reach for me again, but I knock his hand away and stab right into his heart. The knife lands with a satisfying thunk, permeating chain armor, and flesh and bone, burrowing deep into his chest.

"Argh!" The King coughs out blood.

"That is for my mother and every foreign-born you’ve ever mistreated," I say then rip the knife out and stab again. "That is for hating your son and raising him as you did." Stab. "That is for Wolf’s mother and for selfishly taking her from her child. " Stab. "And this every lost soldier that died for your amusement." I do that one twice with Jace in mind.

The King's black blood pools around him. He glares at me pain in his eyes, but too defiant to express it. As the haze of rage clears from my mind, I realize that the King does not look human. His mouth and nose protrudes and there's thick hair growing from the sides of his face. He looks a horrific, half-beast hybrid and I laugh deeply.

"You'll die like this, looking as twisted as your soul, you evil bastard," I tell him before I stab one final time into his neck.