Scarlett Romero has spent her entire life as an ordinary citizen; going to school, getting a job and definitely not killing people in the middle of the woods on a Friday night.
Until one Friday night, she does.
All she can remember is acting out of...
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
Chapter Forty "To Free the Wicked"
Scarlett's POV:
The elements hum in the back of my head, waving their hands around and trying to catch my attention. The problem is I can see them, and I can feel them, but I can't get a grasp on them. It's like running to a bus and having it leave just as you get to the stop.
I glare up at the guard, wishing I had enough energy to at least smack the smirk off his face. But I don't, and every move I make sends a little waterfall of blood down my leg, a pool of blood slowly spreading out on the floor beneath me.
"You lost, elemental," the guard says it like a taunt, as if I don't already know I'm this all powerful being that can't even use their powers after an injury. I'm too new at this. If I can't concentrate, I can't do anything;heal my wound, protect Kylie, get rid of the array of guards.
"We didn't really expect to win," I laugh shakily, not sure if I'm being literal or just trying to buy myself some time. Either way, it doesn't work, and the circle of guards close in on us, like a shooting squad getting ready for an execution. I guess they are.
"Any last words?"
"Way to be cliché," Kylie scoffs, but I can hear her fear. We were prepared to lose, and mentally prepared for casualties. That doesn't mean being faced with those casualties is easy, especially when you're the one about to be the first of that tally.
Desperate, I curl and uncurl my fingers, hoping little balls of fire will turn up at the ends of them, or a shield will materialise in front of Kylie and I, anything. Nothing does, and for a moment everything falls blank, like I'm hearing everything from underwater.
Kylie is about to die. I'm going to be recaptured. Alexander is all alone.
"Well, as fun as this has been," the guard sighs in mock disappointment, and the sound of him raising his gun has me flinching on the spot. "I'd like to get this over with. I'm sure a promotion is in order when we put you behind bars again."
And I'm sure he's right.
Kylie wraps her arms around me, pulling me close to her. I shuffle around to do the same, savouring her smell, her warmth, a small part of me hoping if I can cover her enough with my body, none of the guards will be able to take a clean shot. Logic tells me I'm an idiot.
"Duncan!"
I groan, squeezing my leg hard enough for a sharp sting to explode in my veins. I ignore it, pulling away from Kylie to shove my hand harder onto the bullet wound. The bleeding doesn't stop, but I'd rather bleed to death than see the owner of that voice.
