Rejection on the Alpha #1

36. Blood Of A Butterfly

CHAPTER 36: Blood Of A Butterfly

Two weeks of learning the ins and outs of a school I knew getting into would be hard, especially at the rate of something I was learning now, when these kinds of students were born learning their skills, their abilities with elementals and faerie, the difference between Seelie and Unseelie. And the kingdoms that surrounded their homes like crowns in a large maze. A maze built by many, and had more twists and turns than anything I've seen before.

I breathe heavy, sweating straight to my toes as the horrendously humid room chokes me the harder I try and aim a fireball directly at the target twenty metres from me. We started with five and have gone up in distance since. I'd done everything I could to ignore the three men that were now open and exposed. Martin now knew there were three other mates. He learned it that day when Alastair had his eyes on me, when Elias couldn't stay away, even in his cowardice tendencies.

With Martin situated on the throne, he had more kingly meetings than I ever needed to know about and the rest of his kin, I have not seen since the night we arrived at this forsaken kingdom. I have been a bystander, and I have also been the one beaten down.

Feeling it brimming against me.

My blood fucking calls to it.

It rivals in it and once again, it crawls. Starting off small at my fingertips like ten small candles. My fingers were not waxed candles melting at the power of the flame, but they were the sun's droplets that I could control, that I finally had power over. I wasn't using my words this time, I was making the name, I was doing something instead of saying it, instead of screaming it.

I hit the target.

Again.

And again.

And again.

She watches in the corner, a fan in between her fingers, ordering me to portray something more than just a fireball, "Projecting a round, capable objet is one thing. You need to show me something!" The harsh hiss of her voice forces me to follow her movements, her hands, every single thing she does, I touch every detail of it. I work harder, mentally and physically, I push to the absolute greatest of every blood cell, every organ, every fucking thing I did and she snaps her fingers, I slam on my knees.

I felt that pain.

Like watching every happy, good thing in my life and it shatters.

I hold my head, sniffling.

She slowly lowers down in front of me, "You are ready." She whispers.

******

She had set plans in motion, she studied every detail as I sit upon the throne next to Martin. The council had meetings and tasks to set into place. Arthur and his wife were forced to watch, where they sat listening as Martin got everything he wanted. Everything but me. The elders were banished from the grounds. Martin had the numbers with him and the second he found out Alastair was here, he didn't turn face, he didn't turn a blind eye to it. The selected government officials in front of me now were the ones I had humiliated before.

They were the throats I ripped into with my words alone.

Words Athena told me held no power at the deleted academy she knew would challenge me, but make me stronger, and would get me away from what would likely kill me for real, in the end. She said the disappearing was the second act, the first was setting up the best scene.

The best lie.

That night, I lower down on the floor, the blood matched mine in the library, with the dagger to the side. At first I thought there was too much blood. Athena had set the scene up perfectly, "Hold you head like this, the serum will lower your pulse, he'll be too upset to know it's not truly gone." She adds, the blood recreated from her was a story to tell.