Hellion's Reckoning

The following day had a brutal heat to it, and she expected him to be in top form. No traveling, just more training. The pond around the cottage and the waterfall mist cooled the surrounding air. If he complained about the heat at all, she had promised to drag him into a field somewhere to train. She wore a light blue top that covered her chest and Inias couldn’t help but find himself distracted by the raven tattoo spreading its wings above her stomach. He had chosen a light vest and a pair of loose pants to train in.

“Come on, let’s see it,” Keira demanded as she tapped her bare foot on the patio. His red eyes glowed, and hooked claws grew from his fingernails. “How do I look?” He joked, twirling around before she gave his head a light whack. “Dig deeper,” she instructed sternly, crossing her arms, “Just like the dance. This form is only the beginning. The opening act.”

Inias remembered the dance. It fed on aggression. He let his thoughts drift to the Magistrate, all he wished to do to that old man. His anger grew as he thought of all the innocents slaughtered in that little village. As his blood boiled over, his head itched. His already thick black mop of hair had grown thicker, falling in untamed locks around his face. He felt an aching in his gums, allowing his thoughts to spiral. His fangs grew longer and curved, peeking out from his lips.

Don’t be afraid, Inias reminded himself as he let the change happen. “Surrender to it, trust it.” Keira guided him as she watched his eyes shine brighter and shimmer. Her voice was distant, but present as he thought of his uncle, the sneering and laughing on the island. Every mocking word over his life. All his thoughts spiraled into rage and that rage was fueling him now. It wasn’t the malevolent force his uncle had told him it was. That darkness warmed him. He felt safe as it welled up inside.

Inias could feel it surge through him. The power within him felt like a protective shield, empowering him rather than controlling him. Keira’s voice cut through the haze of his rage, “Remember your anchor.” He closed his eyes for a moment, centering himself. Ashryn flashed before his eyes, her arms bound to a tree. Inias recalled Keira fearlessly defending Vestin with her shield as the redcaps closed in on her. People like the Magistrate were a threat to Keira and Ashryn.

“It’s not malice, it’s strength,” Keira said when his eyes opened again, “To protect the people we love.”

“Strength,” Inias repeated, looking at how long and sharp his claws had become. His hair had grown, falling just above his rear in wild waves. He could feel his heart pounding, his eyes clearer as he scanned the waterfall. His eyes could make out every tiny insect and speck in the air.

“It’s a hellion’s true face,” she told him, closing her eyes. Keira’s thoughts drifted to her mother, to the people who took her brother. Inias watched as her body shook and pulsed. Her hair grew thicker but remained straight as it fell down her back. Her nails were long and razor sharp, not hooked like his. The horns upon her head grew from her hair, standing tall and curled.

Keira’s transformation seemed a lot smoother than his and even like this she was a vision of elegant beauty. “See?” she said, twirling to show off her long hair. “Beautiful,” Inias whistled, his eyes caught in her spinning. “You think so?” Keira asked, smiling softly as she fidgeted with the ends her hair. “What now?” Inias asked, looking back at the claws on his hand. “You promised me a world of pain.”

“And I intend to deliver!” Keira promised, raising both her hands to guard her chest. “Now I show you how real hellions fight.”