Work Text:
Mal.
Mal.
Mal.
The Darkling had taken Mal. He didn’t make it onto Sturmhond’s ship. Alina vibrated with rage, even as the Shu twins tried to slow her heart rate down. She was too volatile, the single focus on Mal. The heat from her hands charred the wood.
“Take me to Os Alta,” she demanded.
Sturmhond shook his head. “No. I can’t endanger the crew. You’ll find another lover.”
Anger seared through her, blinding everyone in hot light. The power of two amplifiers set her off. The absence of Mal was like the Cut itself. Alina remembered Mal kicking and screaming when the Darkling dragged her away in Kribirsk. And here they were again. Separated because of him.
The man who lied and tried to find her way up her skirts. Who violated her body and soul by manipulating her summoning. Who took advantage of a naive girl. He had reached inside and twisted a knife. And by taking Mal he dragged the knife down.
Her heart slowed down and the ship went dark, and Alina passed out thinking of Mal.
She woke up with her hands bound together. Again. Why were powerful men always trying to tie her down? Alina let out a visceral, unholy screech. She didn’t care if her throat was torn to shreds. A healer could fix it easily. She screamed and lay down curses on Sturmhond and his entire ship, every ancient and terrible being in Ravkan lore.
When her voice was hoarse and the back of her hands raw and bloody, she whispered a private oath.
“When Mal is in my arms and the third amplifier around my neck, when the Darkling is torn apart by my hands, I will rain hellfire on you Sturmhond. You will never see the sunlight again without fear in your heart.”