I was Kidnapped for Revenge by a Ruthless Alpha-Chapter 210: I Will Destroy You

~Odette~

Ezelreth’s army rushed through the portal blood lusted and crazed.

I couldn’t believe his sheer numbers.

He really was planning this entire time.

Chaos ensued after the gates were flooded.

Ambrose and I took down rogues and Turned a like. Blood painted our bodies; rage filled our eyes.

Uncle Oliver approached me from behind and launched over me landing on a rogue’s back pulling its clean off its shoulders. The beast never had a chance.

I grinned maliciously.

"Your Uncle Gabriel’s dead."

I stopped dead in my tracks my head jerking toward my uncle.

"What..." It was more of a statement than a question. My brain was drawing a blank.

"Gabriel, Odette, you Uncle Gabriel is dead."

My heart lurched forward. Jumping as it ached, and a scream deep from within, burst from my lips. The shockwave from its force sent ripples of raw rage through the air.

And that’s when I sensed him. The magnetic pull of my opposite, my equal.

He was here. The darkness in the forest that surrounded them encroached, smothering the light from even the fire.

Shadows followed his command, trailing behind him.

My breath hitched and Onyx let out a guttural snarl beside me, it rumbled in his throat.

As he approached, I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

It was my mother walking up. I’d been mentally preparing myself for this moment. And even still, I couldn’t get over it. I couldn’t breathe at the sight of her. The fact fate forced me to fight my own mother. My fists clenched at my side, shaking not with fear but with pure, unadulterated hatred and wrath.

I was boiling over. Struggling to keep control over the emotions roaring inside me.

My aura exploded, a blinding white light blasted from me. brightening the sky and chasing away the shadows that clouded around Ezelreth.

He clapped my mother’s hands like they were his. "Well, well, look at that lovely light show you displayed for us. Thank you."

My brows narrowed.

"Fuck you, freak bastard, leave it to a man to force a woman into a subservient position, no wonder my Mammy left you." I threw a snarky jab back at him. He wasn’t the only person who knew where to hit where it hurts.

And as expected I got a reaction.

"You don’t know what you’re talking about!" Ezelreth shouted back with my mother’s voice. But it sounded twisted and all wrong.

The first strike came from my mother’s hand.

That wasn’t the worst part. Not the force of it, though the force was enough to crack the air itself, a shockwave that threw me back forty feet, it wasn’t the pain the erupted from my back.

But the hand.

My own mother’s hand.

A hand that has never struck me.

Only it wasn’t her hand.

The long fingernails pointed and scarred, it was wrapped now in Ezelreth’s black light, tainting the milky color of her skin like poison pumping through her veins, warping her face into something that was almost her face but entirely wrong.

Still, despite the force of the hit sending me flying backwards, I landed in a crouch. I stayed there for one breath, one single breath, with my eyes on my mother’s body and my hands clenched at my sides.

’Don’t,’ I told herself. ’Don’t look at her face.’

My dumbass.

I looked at her face.

And I hesitated.

My mother’s eyes, were absent of their gentle pink and now clouded by rage and vengeance. Her reddened eyes started bleeding black around the edges, pupils elongated into something vertical and ancient. Ezelreth looked out through them with eyes of hatred. My mother’s mouth moved but the words that came out where dripping with venom.

"You always hesitate," he said, with her voice. "Even when you were Omara. Even then. That half-second where you choose mercy over necessity. I have won in every life because of that half-second, Odette."

I hated him.

I hated that he was right.

I hated that I had replayed our first battle over and over. His possession of my past lover.

I came off the ground like a released spring.

The distance between us closed in a fraction of a second, I drove my palm toward the sternum, a strike calculated to stagger without destroying, to disrupt his hold without rupturing the body he was occupying.

My mother’s hand came up and caught my wrist, caught it with a grip that was unlike her mother’s grip, and he twisted my wrist.

A cry of agony burst from me. The pain shot up the arm, through the shoulder, and I felt the joint separate before I could counter-rotate. I tucked and rolled with the break rather than against it, converting the pain into momentum, landing on my feet eight feet away with my right arm hanging at an angle that told me the socket was empty.

I hissed.

I would have to reset it myself.

I took a deep breath. grabbed the arm above the elbow, drove the shoulder back into the joint with a wet sound and a flash of white behind my eyes that I swallowed without making noise.

"Daughter of the moon," he said, in the voice I’d heard reading me bedtime stories. "You look tired."

"Get out of her." The words came violent and aggressive.

His smile widened. Then the darkness came.

It erupted from my mother’s outstretched hands, not black exactly, but the absence of color, a tearing wound in the visible world, and it moved faster than it should have. I threw my arms up and with a powerful force, I shielded herself from the attack.

The impact drove me back three feet, heels digging in the scorched soil.

Onyx moved before I’d fully caught myself.

He came in low and enormous, the proud wolf, his dark black coat moved in a blur. He hit Ezelreth from the left. My mother’s body stumbled sideways.

I didn’t waste this chance to strike back.

From thin-air I pulled lance made of silver light, aimed at him. It struck Ezelreth mid-recovery. He seized Onyx by the scruff mid-dodge with a tendril of shadow that materialized from nothing and flung him. The wolf hit hardwood tree about thirty feet away with a crack that made My ribs ached in sympathy. I heard him scramble upright, snarling, alive, and let myself breathe.

"The dog has loyalty. I’ll give him that," Ezelreth said pleasantly, rolling my mother’s neck to one side until something popped. "But this is between you and me, isn’t it?"

Like clockwork, the Rogue King walked up, his red wolf growling at the sight of Ambrose in Onyx’s form.

"Hello, little boy, it’s been awhile. We have some catching up to do." Theoron, the rogue king laughed.

The Rogue King charged after Onyx and a fight broke out between them, dragging each other into the dark, dense forest.

"Now, it’s just me and you MoonChild."

Shadows came up through the cracks, tendrils first, then something larger, something with shape and intent. A wave of it. I didn’t recognize the magic, but the shadow rolled toward me like a tide.

I dropped to one knee and pressed my hands flat against the scorched earth.

The light didn’t just pour through me, it poured into the ground, spreading outward in a web of white veins that raced to meet the darkness. Where they touched, the air split with a shriek of competing forces, sprays of black and white sparks cascading in all directions. I felt the magic tear at my hands, felt the skin along my forearms go hot and then numb, but I held on. I held the line. The wave broke against my web and fragmented, dissolving into smoke and a smell like old graves.

I rose. Blood dripped from both palms, black at the edges where his power had scorched me. But I refused to dwell on it or the sting it was causing.

Ezelreth tilted my mother’s head, studying me like a puzzle. For the first time, something moved in those hollow eyes that wasn’t contempt. Something almost like questioning.

"You are stronger than you were." He said.

"She’s not here to fight you alone."

Onyx had come around behind him, quiet and unnoticed at first, the snarl gone from his posture. He was limping, but he moved with certainty. He didn’t attack. He positioned. Between me and Ezelreth.

Ezelreth glanced at him. Then back at me. Then he laughed with Violet’s throat, a rich and terrible sound.

I called it differently this time, not a lance, not a web, but a column, a focused shaft drawn from the full face of the moon above, channeled through my body and directed downward onto Ezelreth’s position with every scrap of intention I had. The ground around him shattered outward. My mother’s body was hurled back and pinned by the force of it, suspended inside the column while the silver light burned the darkness.

Ezelreth screamed with my mother’s voice.

I winced walked forward through the heat of my own magic, teeth clenched, tears cutting clean lines through the soot on my face. My mother’s face was contorted, but beneath the hollow eyes, beneath them, I could see something. A flicker. My mother’s familiar pink eyes.

Mom.