The Wolf Queen (The Queen's Slave, Book 2)

Fifty Three: A Debt Paid

"No matter how much I missed you or how much pain I was in, I never would have erased everything we ever had. Even if I was drowning in grief, I'd rather hang on to every moment that I ever held you, or every laugh I ever heard, every shred of happiness that we ever had. I would rather spend every moment in agony then erase the memory of you." - Damon Salvatore

‼️ TW: This is a continued chapter from the chapter before. It is a difficult one. There will be mention of rape, sexual assault, and flashbacks. There will also be graphic descriptions of gore and violence. Do not read if you are uncomfortable.‼️

I've Got You Too

By: Rasmus Hagen

&

Cloud Chaser

By: Jill Andrews

Lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the courtyard, flashing across Elizabeth's face, her fire fueled gaze pinned to the creature in front of her. Her muscles bunched to perfection, and with a sharp ziiinnngggg she slid her sword free and leapt back just as he countered, the tip of his blade whistling past her abdomen. The armor responded to his attack in unsuspected ways, reshaping around her form even as she moved. It was a fight long coming. Elizabeth knew her brother, not just as her tormentor, but she knew him as family. At one point she would've died for him. But that was gone, and with it her innocence.

She fought for that, for the woman she should've been, for the life she should've had. But even more so, she fought for every woman, man, and child who has ever suffered. In the moments when she blocked and parried, dancing on the balls of her feet, she felt alive, powerful, truly whole. And it was within her confidence that Ezekiel would find his failure.

He never touched her, she made sure of that. But with every hit she blocked, his rage only grew. Thunder boomed in the distance, and then it began to rain, thick fat droplets of rain that came down hard on her back.

"YOU TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME!" She screamed, her body a blur.

She attacked viciously, dipping and weaving, blocking just as fast as she was retaliating. He was surprisingly quick to react, dancing backward and then counter-attacking with brutal force. Yet even as he fought it was clear he did not have the training she did. He was mediocre, reckless, dirty. Side-stepping what would've been a violent blow to her abdomen, Elizabeth slashed out, her blade passing within millimeters of his head. Before he could react, she grinned and punched him square in the face. He roared and scrambled back, blood dripping from his broken nose. His sword arched toward her neck then, and she threw her arm up out of reflex. The blade dug into her armor and stuck in the grooves of her suit. It rotated around her, trying to dislodge it, electricity buzzing in her veins. Sparks flew where blade met cuff, and with a roar she flexed her arm, shattering the metal into two pieces.

Every part of her body was a roiling mass of power, hell bent on revenge. Fury radiated off of her, blowing her hair back. To her onlookers, she looked like something not of this world, something ethereal and ancient. Blood sprayed from his nose, staining his pristine armor. Flipping through the air, she landed a brutal roundhouse kick to his chest, snapping his ribs like twigs and sending him flying back a good fifty feet. He hit the pile of rubble and stone that used to be the twin pillars, his body landing awkwardly, broken. He dropped to his knees, gasping for breath, each one like a serrated blade ripping him wide open.