The tip of the sun crested the horizon, ending the long night. The light hit Natazia’s face. Zyryxa had never seen her look as serious.


    She stared at Natazia in disbelief. It felt as if dozens of little creatures were crawling all over her body. She didn’t want to go to Riverwatch. She’d heeded the warnings. Valinax. Matyxal. Natazia. Her encounters with Hatrox himself confirmed that she wanted to be far from him. Never under his command. Most of all she recalled her mother’s warning. But she’d rather deal with Hatrox than get rid of the last thing she owned that belonged to Zyrthalla. She’d be able to endure his command. She couldn’t live without the axe.


    She could only manage one word without bursting with rage and even that came out barbed. “Reconsider.”


    In her periphery, Hatrox’s smirk rose into a glorious smile.


    Natazia shook her head. “If you want to be in my brood, you will be under my command. I command your axe to me.”


    Hatrox paced between them, exuding glee. “Well done, Natazia. Well done, indeed!” Natazia beamed for a moment. Zyryxa’s stomach turned. One moment of praise and she was eager to please. How could she have ever respected this creature?


    Hatrox inhaled, as if the air itself was the sweetest nectar. “Show her that you are wyrm and she is wyrmling.” He flashed his teeth at Zyryxa and she felt as if the creatures crawling over her multiplied. “It’s just an axe, Zyryxa. We’ve got plenty more at Riverwatch. I can give you one that suits your judicious eye.”


    She didn’t meet his gaze, leaving her focus on Natazia. She managed to squeeze the words out without screaming. “You’re giving him what he wants.”


    “Give me the axe,” Natazia demanded.


    Zyryxa bit down on her retort. It’d do no good to threaten parting Natazia’s head because she wasn’t using it. But she felt her rage growing, straining at its binds while they frayed. Qoryxa’s divine judgment flowed through her, the ice rising within. If she wasn’t careful, she’d kill Natazia.


    “Take my sword,” Lexyn said, offering it to the traitor. “I’ll do fine with bow and knife.”


    “Don’t want it,” Natazia said. “The axe, Zyryxa. Now.”


    Zyryxa glared at her, connecting the pieces together. The weapon wasn’t important. All that mattered was having dominion over her. “Why, Natazia?” After everything she did for her. Saving her from torture and rape in the homestead, helping her forge a strong brood, supporting her when she dealt with her crippling past, to fighting all this night so she could survive. She couldn’t hold it in anymore, anger erupting inside. “Why!”


    “Because I am broodleader.”


    Zyryxa’s mocking laugh didn’t rewrite the cold apathy carved on Natazia’s face. “You aren’t anything more than the shit stuck under my boot. You will never touch my axe. You will never command me again.”


    Natazia sprang at her like a sabretooth. Zyryxa, even surprised, was still quicker. She blocked Natazia’s jab, maneuvered behind her, locked her arms, seized her head, and dominated her. Natazia’s thrashes were pathetic. Zyryxa’s rage swallowed them whole. Then she spit her out, shoving her to the ground. She hit hard with a pitiful cry.


    “Fuck you, Natazia! FUCK YOU!”


    Pelzyq tapped Zyryxa’s shoulder. “Let’s go. Leave the bitch behind.”


    Zyryxa felt empowered by his support, his understanding. The anger abated a bit, but it wasn’t gone. Her throat too sore from shouting, Zyryxa spat on Natazia as she withered on the ground.


    “Zyryxa,” Lexyn said in that conciliatory voice. The one that always urged compassion. It was usually right. But not this time.


    Her compassion reached its limit. There was none left for this woman she’d once been proud to call her sister. But she was used to being disappointed by a sister. May Natazia and Zyrxine take each other’s miserable lives.


    “It’s over, Lexyn.” Zyryxa steadied her breathing. “We’re done with her.”


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Lexyn, tears in her eyes, undid her scabbard and tossed her sword to Natazia. “Until next time.”


    “There won’t be a next time,” Natazia mumbled. “Hatrox will—”


    “Shut up!” Zyryxa roared, stomping toward her, rage rekindled. “We will endure what you could not. We are stronger and we will emerge stronger for it. You will regret this for the rest of your short, miserable life, you divinedamned bitch.”


    With a sigh, Natazia laid down, eyes shut. “We’ll see how long that pride lasts.”


    “My pride wouldn’t last giving up my axe to you.”


    “The axe is just a thing. But neither it nor you will endure Riverwatch.”


    Zyryxa wanted to bash in her teeth, what remained of them. But Pelzyq caught her arm. “She’s beneath you.”


    Zyryxa nodded. Wasn’t that the truth? And the problem. Or it was.


    She turned toward Hatrox, determined to begin the next phase of her life. He’d help her grow powerful and she wouldn’t let him twist her into a creature like Natazia or himself. This would be for the best. Eventually. Better to face it head-on than let fear pull her down.


    She met his wide smile. He was powerful and good to look at. All she needed to do was retain the compassion her mother instilled in her. That was untouchable. It was hers as much as the ice.


    “Well done, Zyryxa. You’ve liberated yourself from an unworthy leader. You will rise so far above her that she will never be more than a tiny speck of snow while you are the ice itself. I am very impressed.”


    A chill ran down her spine even while a warmth crept through her legs. This might not be so bad. As long as she could keep impressing him, which, let’s be honest, wouldn’t be hard for her, he could shape her into a destroyer that could take on Saevah and Vaztyma without fear of failure.


    Hatrox licked his lips, knowing full well the effect he was having. “Besides, you’re doing her a favor. The only way Natazia will ever find her worth is if she stops hiding behind others and learns to fight for herself. If you meet her again, you will both be better.”


    He was right. If Natazia was ever going to quit being pathetic, she’d have to do it on her own instead of being carried on Zyryxa’s back.


    Zyryxa strode up to him. She never noticed that scent before, that masculine musk. “All you want is what’s best for us.”


    His smirk could either make her run for her life or want to drop everything and wrestle him. She didn’t know which fit here so she stood there, waiting for a cue.


    “Yes,” he said, no hint of sarcasm. “I want you to be strong.”


    “And Natazia?”


    “Her too,” he said. “You cannot forge the mightiest weapons without applying tremendous pressure. She broke. You will not. You will be the greatest weapon Volqor has seen since the Thirteen Divines.”


    To be wielded by you, she thought, even as she hungered to be so powerful. “Then apply your pressure, Knight Hatrox.”


    His gorgeous grin made her heart hammer, her legs growing warmer and warmer but her desire for power outpaced everything. She was eager now. This would be good. In the end.


    “Are you ready?” he asked with the barest hint of seduction.


    “We shall see,” she said, flashing her teeth in a smile that said something far more confident.


    Hatrox chuckled. His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair from her forehead, glided softly down her cheek. “You will do gloriously.”


    He moved past her, a sudden shift that left her feeling disoriented, even a little jilted. “How about it, warriors? Are you ready to fulfill all your ambitions?”


    “Yes, Knight Hatrox,” Pelzyq said clearly, even though his expression was soured by unmasked hatred. Zyryxa needed him not to do something stupid. But Hatrox didn’t hone in on Pelzyq. Lexyn’s response had been inaudible.


    Hatrox didn’t stomp, didn’t even charge, yet his smooth stride was more menacing than anything more wrathful. His control, his poise, and his confidence were horrifying and mesmerizing. Being around him was like basking in the presence of a god in a way Zyryxa never felt near Vaztyma or anyone.


    “Try that again,” he said, the words lacking the danger his stance carried.


    “Yes, Knight Hatrox,” she whispered.


    He pinched her cheek as if she were a particularly cute baby. “We’ll have to work on that. When you arrive at Riverwatch, that softness will get you hurt.”


    “Lexyn is powerful,” Zyryxa said. “Even if she looks soft, I assure you she’s as ferocious as any dragon when the fighting begins.”


    Hatrox’s smile swiveled between them. “Is that so, Lexyn? Is there a yasmar lurking beneath this Blizzardmane?”


    Lexyn nodded. “You d-d-don’t want to see me mad.”


    “On the contrary, my little Blizzardmane, I’d like nothing more than to see your wrath.”


    “She won’t disappoint you,” Zyryxa said, trying to get his focus off Lexyn, hoping to keep her safe.


    “Enough talk,” Hatrox said. Coryza, who’d been gliding over the region, descended toward them. The sun was fully over the horizon. Hatrox pointed toward it. “As I said, it is pressure not words that forge mighty weapons. Gather your drakes, ride to Riverwatch. If all of you do not arrive by sunset,” he took in a breath of icy air, his smiling gaze fixated on Lexyn, “I will kill one of you.”