Kestra stared at the broken jar in front of her, her brows furrowed and her lips drawn under her teeth, blood dripping down the puncture.
She shivered with rage, dashing to the broken jar on the floor, with the scattered scales that glimmered under the dim golden light of her room, as tears swirled over her silver orbs.
No.
It couldn't be.
It just couldn't be broken.
She pulled a robe over her, hiding away her silk and transparent underwear. Then she dashed out of the room, down the hallway, and straight to her magic room only to meet horror.
All the jars that she had stacked over the years had all broken, fallen down the shelves, and shattered on the ground, the scales spilled everywhere and mixed with the sharp, broken pieces of glass.
She sank to her knees, her fingers desperately brushing over the scales, to pick them back, the broken glass cutting sharply through her flesh, but she continued, tears streaming down her face, her forehead glowing red, and her lips quivering.
Her heart was racing, her breath coming out in loud paint, her breathing heavy.
She drew her hands close to her chest, blood spilling down her clenched palms, and smearing her robe as she wept, her sobs silent.
They were all broken.
Her jars.
For a long time, these jars had been her source of hope, every addition bringing a smile to her face.
She had earlier taken a half-filled one to her room, so as to collect the scales that the King would always lose any time they were intimate.
The pieces she had in her hands, dropped to the floor, slowly turning into black like the rest, her sobs surrendering into silent defeat.
He had laid with her.
She had been suspecting that something was wrong when it was taking him too long to come to her, these broken jars had confirmed it, these black scales had said enough.
Her forehead glowed even redder, her fingers racking over the scales to gather them back, even in their insignificant state, but broken pieces of glass cut through her hand and she moved away with a hiss.
He had laid with her.
He had laid with the Bride.
That had never happened before.
He had never been intimate with any of his brides before.
It had always been her.
She threw her hand across the floor, the broken pieces cutting her skin as she gritted in pain, then she fell back, holding her hand to her chest.
The betrayal felt raw, like it was all happening again. The feeling was so deep that it made her tongue bitter.
A year and some months after she had killed her family, a period when she and Eli had been wandering around in survival, something had happened.
It was the night of Kestra's birthday, she was 16, as well as Eli who was only a couple of months older than she was.
They had ran into a group of teenagers their age by the river who had been there to fetch water, the girls mocked Eli for his scales and called him a monster. She was about to do something to them when Eli stopped her.
He hated violence, hated anything that had to do with fighting and bloodshed.
They had been at that river too to get water, but he had told them to leave, and come back after the girls had left or just get water at the next stop.
Although Kestra had been reluctant, she had listened to him and they had already started leaving when she noticed that the girls were throwing stones at Eli. She had lost it, given in to her dark magic easily, and attacked the one that seemed to be their leader.
She had enjoyed the power that flowed through her and it was that night she discovered that what fed her magic was life, the very essence of it, and the soul that lived within it.
She had been fourteen when she attacked her family, too young to understand the complexity of magic and what it required.
It "give and take" nature.
All she had known back then, was that sometimes, she felt really troubled and birds had always helped her feel better. The only problem was that the birds always, somehow, ended up dead.
At that moment, she knew why.
The girl's screams were melodies to her ears, all like the night she had killed her family. She felt filled, like a starving part of her had been fed to satisfaction.
It was magical and a craving to do more had taken over her.
So, she had extended her attack to the rest of the group, bringing them to their feet and consuming everything they had, till they tumbled into the river, looking like drowned victims.
When it was over, Eli looked at her like she was a monster and the smirk on her face had immediately felt misplaced.
He had said nothing, and they went to another river to get water. Then they made their tent in silence and went to sleep.
The next morning, she had been the only one and Eli had deserted her, leaving a letter behind that said she shouldn't find him and he would kill her if she ever tried to use her magic on him. He said she was out of control, beyond redemption, and full of darkness.
Those words had been very painful, especially because she had been in love with him, she still was.
Eli was hard to find, even with her magic that she had out to vigorous training during their separation. By the time she found him, two years had passed, and he was still moving from one place to another, trying to run away from her.
So, she decided to make use of the experience she had to get what she wanted.
No, she didn't try a love spell.
Her brothers had once had an interest in a lady and they had forced her to make them a love spell. It had gone wrong, the lady had fallen in love with them but she had only lasted a day after the intake.
Mad at the death of the lady, they had punished her in the way that they could, abused her sexually and physically, and her mother had let it happen.
She had been terrified that Eli would die, so instead, she had placed on him a curse that only she could fix. So when he found her, instead of the death that he had threatened, he had sunk into her open arms and ever since then, they had been together until now.
Until Belladonna.
That girl was trying to take her place.
That dumb stupid bitch!
An uncanny smile stretched through her lips.
She could never feed him.
No matter how many times they would go at it.
She placed that curse on him.
She was his only antidote and soon enough, he would come back to her.
He always came back to her and this time would be no different.
All she had to do was wait.
Lucky for her, she was a mistress of patience.
At that moment, the rumble of the dragon went through the walls like a low vibration.
The thought of the defeated beast in the den made her smile, giving her encouragement for her situation.
That dragon was an evidence of her patience.