What I dare
1415 Words
LIORA DEVOSS
I screamed.
It was not the polite kind of scream people let out when they see a spider.
No.
I screamed like my lungs were trying to escape my chest.
The silver burning into my skin felt like a thousand tiny suns pressing into me at once. My wrists were chained above my head, my toes barely touching the cold stone floor. Every breath tasted like metal and fire.
“Again,” my mother said calmly.
And the council obeyed.
A sharp c***k of magic hit my spine, and I arched forward, my voice breaking into something raw and ugly. I hated that sound. I hated how weak it made me feel.
But even while my vision blurred, I forced myself to look up.
“I’m still here,” I said, dragging the words out even though my throat felt torn. “You’ll have to try harder.”
One of the councilmen hissed under his breath.
My mother didn’t even blink. She just tilted her head, her cold grey eyes studying me the way one might study a stain on the floor.
“Tell me again,” she said softly. “Whose scent was on you?”
I let out a shaky laugh. “Why do you care to know? Oh, you're jealous?”
The next hit came from the left — a psychic lash that cut through my mind so sharply that for a second I forgot who I was. My knees buckled, and if the chains hadn’t held me up, I would have collapsed.
“Do not mock this council,” someone barked.
“Oh please,” I muttered, breathlessly. “That’s all I ever do.”
Another surge of magic slammed into my ribs. I gasped but didn’t scream this time.
I refused to let them think they were breaking me.
My mother stepped forward, her heels clicking slowly on the stone floor. Each step echoed; each click felt like a countdown.
“Liora,” she said, “you are being punished for betraying your kind.”
I rolled my eyes even though it hurt to move them. “And here I thought you dragged me in here for a mother - daughter bonding session.”
A murmur of anger rippled through the council chamber.
My mother’s hand shot out, and she grabbed my chin with enough force to bruise. Her nails dug into my skin, sharp like claws.
“You allowed a wolf to touch you,” she whispered.
“Correction,” I said, smiling even though my lips were bleeding, “I touched him back.”
Her expression cracked — just a little — but I saw it. I saw the rage spark behind her perfect mask.
“You shame us.”
“You embarrass me,” I shot back.
Her grip tightened. “You disgust me.”
“You raised me,” I said, shrugging as best as I could while suspended. “So maybe you should take that up with the mirror.”
She slapped me.
The sound echoed so loudly it silenced the entire room. My face snapped to the side, and I tasted blood instantly.
I spat it out right at her feet.
The council gasped. Someone whispered my name like they were praying I’d shut up.
But I didn’t; I couldn’t.
My mother wiped the blood off the floor with the tip of her boot, then lifted her eyes to me again.
“Tell me,” she said softly, “why you did it. Why you went near him.”
I took a breath, then smiled.
“Because I wanted to.”
Her expression froze.
“And guess what?” I added, leaning forward as much as the chains allowed. “I don’t regret any of it.”
Magic exploded through the room.
Every single council member stood up.
Someone shouted that I was corrupted.
Someone else said I should be executed.
Another said I was an insult to the DeVoss lineage.
My mother raised her hand, and the room fell silent instantly.
“You have one last chance,” she said. “Admit you were manipulated. Admit the wolf tricked you. Admit you were weak.”
“Weak?” I laughed, even though my ribs protested. “Mother, I survived growing up with you. Believe me, that wolf is nothing compared to that.”
The room erupted again.
Voices flew around me like sharp knives.
“Disrespect!”
“Blasphemy!”
“She dares insult the Queen!”
“She dares tell the truth,” I snapped.
My mother’s jaw clenched so tightly I thought her teeth might break.
“You hate me that much?” she asked quietly.
“Yes,” I said without hesitation. “I hate you. I always have.”
The room fell completely silent.
Even the torches flickered lower, like they were trying to hide from what I’d just said.
My mother stared at me, as if she couldn’t decide whether to kill me immediately or draw it out for another hundred years.
“You hate me?” she repeated.
“I hate how you control everyone. I hate how you pretend it’s for the good of the coven. I hate how you treat power like oxygen. I hate that you never loved me. I hate—”
Her hand flew up, and a blast of psychic force slammed into me so violently that the world went white. My ears rang. My vision throbbed. My whole body shook like it was being torn apart from the inside.
But I didn’t stop.
“And I hate,” I gasped, “that you think fear makes you strong. It doesn’t. It makes you pathetic.”
Her composure finally cracked.
“You insolent child,” she snarled. “You dare speak to me like that?”
“I’ve been wanting to say this since I was seven,” I replied. “Honestly, it feels great.”
For the first time in my life, she lost control.
She grabbed my hair and yanked my head back, forcing me to meet her eyes. Her breath was cold against my face.
“You fell for a wolf,” she hissed. “A filthy beast. A sworn enemy.”
“Aiden isn’t—”
“Silence!”
“I won’t.”
“You will.”
“No.”
Her eyes glowed with murderous fury. “He will forget you.”
“He won’t.”
“You mean nothing to him.”
I met her gaze, steady and unbroken. “You don’t know him.”
“And you do?”
“Yes.”
The council erupted again, shouting about treason and betrayal and war. But my mother didn’t look away from me. She held my face as if she wanted to crush it in her palm.
“You shame our family,” she whispered.
“You were never my family,” I said. “Not really.”
Her hand trembled — not from fear… but from rage.
“You leave me no choice,” she said finally.
She stepped back.
The council fell silent.
Everyone stared at her like they knew something terrible was coming.
“Your Majesty,” one of them whispered, “what do you intend—”
She lifted her hand for silence.
Then she looked directly at me.
“It is clear,” she said, her voice echoing through the chamber, “that normal punishment is not enough.”
My stomach dropped.
I hated that feeling.
I hated that I didn’t know what she meant.
“What are you talking about?” I demanded.
Her lips curved into something dark.
Wrong.
Cruel.
“I will strip you,” she said softly, “of the one thing you value most.”
My heart hammered once — hard.
“Mother,” I said quietly, “what are you—”
She held up a glowing, razor-thin blade of shadow magic.
And my blood ran cold.
No.
No, she wouldn’t.
She couldn’t.
My mother smiled.
“Bring her forward,” she ordered. “It is time she learns what it truly means to betray her own kind.”
My chains jerked, dragging me toward her.
I tried to pull back.
I tried to fight.
But the magic held me in place.
And all I could say was…
“Mother… don’t you dare.”
Her smile widened.
“Oh, Liora,” she whispered, lifting the blade. “You have no idea what I dare.”
- Writer
