I had spent four days as it, and a half day as myself.

Only a half of a day without being a monster before the time had come again.

When the Darkling came to Change me, I was crying silently.

I let him dry my tears, even hold me for a while until my sobs stopped.

"You've never cried before," he replied gently.

"I've never been brought this low before," I replied, through my tears.

"It's never too late to tell me," he encouraged, gently.

"No. That will just make it worse," I snapped.

"No it won't. You'll be free to go," he bargained.

I looked up into his quartz grey eyes and quickly shied away from contact. He silently turned his head to the side in curiosity at my chagrin.

"It's too late for me to be free," I sighed, disgusted.

"Why? I thought you felt no pain. Feared no evil." His voice was meant to be indifferent and mocking, but a hint of something else was in it.

Curiosity.

"It's not pain that I feel. It is worse than pain," I lied. My plan was coming along smoothly.

"Then I suppose my torture worked. What could possibly be worse than pain?"

I looked at his beautiful face, unmarked by time as it always had been. It repulsed me that he was hanging on to every word.

"Love." I replied, boldly. I felt my words spilling out of my mouth messily.

"I didn't love you. Then came the merzost. The abomination. Me. She loves you. She wants you. She pines for you when you leave, and she greets you with joy when you come. I've been infected by her, and now whenever I see you, I want you, Darkling. I want to have you love me the way that she loves you. You're under my skin, and inside my head, and I can't live without you. I want to kiss you, and it's pathetic. It's torture worse than any knife, and a battle more bloody than that of any army," I spoke with passion and power and prayed to the Saints that he would believe the lies that I knew he so wanted to hear, that he was hanging onto my words that were half sobs as desperately as I thought he was.

He was close again, sitting on my bed, and I sat before him, so near that I could hear his heart beating.

"However do you manage not to kiss me?" He asked, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

"I don't," I replied, quoting him, and leaning in.

I felt the power that I had in that moment, the control over him.

He still wanted me.

I made him come the last inch to make our lips collide.

I wished that he wasn't quite so good at kissing.

But he was, and I had to keep his attention for long enough that he would be too distracted to notice that I was working the handcuffs off of my bony wrists right in front of him.

He was gentler than I would have thought him to be, and he began to pull away after a moment.

I couldn't have that.

"No." I replied, and he came back to me, this time more aggressive, deeper, making my heart pound in my ears, and inviting me to return his intensity.

He took it as an invitation to begin moving his hands along my back, over the scars from my wings. It took more than I can say to not flinch at his touch; the hands that delivered the beast unto me, the hands that chose my scars.

I was still trying to work the chains off, and I panicked a bit at the thought of what would happen if I didn't succeed in time. The tired part of me wanted to let him have me, to have what he wanted.

No.

I kept working at the cuffs.

His hands moved gracefully down my spine until they rested at my waist. His touch was cool as night, and made me shiver.

He was trying to go lower when suddenly his body went rigid.

I pulled back, summoning with my hands free before me, losing the power of his amplifier, but riding on the strength that it had given me for a moment longer, still keeping my hold over the power.

He fought to move, but found that he couldn't. He watched me with a confused blankness, his face still inches from mine.

"Your wanting makes you weak, Darkling," I replied, coolly. "Mine makes me strong. I want my freedom more than I could want any man. And I never wanted you."

He strained against my power.

"What... Are you... Doing?"

I smiled, as I froze the chains around my ankles with solid ice and then heated them so quickly that the Grisha steel warped, enough to let me out at least.

"There is water in your blood. A Tidemaker who controls more than tides has her ways."

He eyed the merzost on the table when he thought I wasn't looking.

I set a thick layer of ice over the bell jar, successfully sealing it off, and picked the largest knife out of the table's collection.

It was a beautifully crafted blade, thin and delicate, with designs seared into the metal. It was light as a feather, and incredibly sharp.

I turned back to the Darkling and made him rise. It took all I had, and I was shaking with the effort, the effect of not having summoned for so long leaving me nearly faint.

"You should have killed me," I said, quietly. I felt my Darkness returning, the one that had visited me in my worst days. The one that had taught me the worst parts of myself, of my power. The one that had left an innocent girl behind, only to emerge some beautiful kind of broken.

This was who I had tried so desperately to hide.

It was her turn to shine.

"But I'm not going to make that mistake for you." I neared with the knife, and noticed something in his eyes.

Fear. A childish drive for action, prayer for rescue. An animal caught in a trap. No way to fight or to flee. How I had felt for the last months. Hopeless. Ruined. As good as dead.

He was mine.

"I need you to end the way that my happiness did. That my freedom did. That my trust did."

His eyes widened as I touched his chin, traced the sharp lines of his face with my painfully thin fingers.

He didn't so much as beg for his life.

Because he didn't think that I could do it.

I carefully walked around behind him and chose a spot for the blade to be driven home, one that could stop the heart and collapse the lung at once. An injury he could not survive.

A deep breath was all that was needed for me to find the conviction to kill him.

I stabbed the Darkling in the back, and he fell. He had moments to live, and I stood over him, smiling. Free at last. He could not fight it, just as I couldn't fight him on the night that he first turned me into that thing.

"Nataliya? What have you done?" Emmi stood in the doorway, a shocked and pale expression on her face.

"I'm free." I replied simply.

She frowned.

"No. You will never be free of him. You can't be free of him. He's your Master."

"No one is the master of me. He's dead. You can finish your punishment now. You can be free too." Her face twitched, and then exploded into rage.

"No."

She reached up with a hand, faster than I had ever seen her move before, too quickly for me to stop her, and squeezed her fist.

Her heart stopping abilities weren't very strong, but I fell to my knees just the same, gasping for air, involuntarily dropping my control of the Darkling.

"Darkling," she crooned, going to his limp and bloody form. "What did the mean little girl do to you? I warned you not to love her. It's okay. I'll always love you."

To my horror, she healed him beautifully, leaving not even a scar. He stirred quietly, still in shock.

"You." She turned to me, contempt in her voice, as I struggled to my feet, breath barely coming.

As I stood before her, she strained harder, and I fell again, black spots beginning to cloud my vision.

The Darkling rose in my stead, still shaking, blood covering his back.

"Emiliya. Let her go." He commanded.

"No." The little girl stood resilient but distressed in front of him, only tightening her hold on me. I fought for air.

"Let. Her. Go." His even and smooth command was gone, and now rage and anxiety drove his words.

"No. I won't let her hurt you again, I won't let you love her for nothing-"

He raised his hand, and cut her in half, the tiny form falling to the side, her bright red blood flooding the floor and me, still on it.

My lungs inflated with oxygen, though if had I been able, I would have forced it out again into a scream. As it was, I was still too winded to do more than squeak.

"Such a pity. She really did have talent," he sighed, looking over the mutilated body sadly.

I slowly got to my feet, and raised my hands to summon.

Then stopped.

I was too weak to control him again, still broken, even if I could operate.

"Don't come any closer," I warned.

"Please don't do this," his hands were raised in surrender, and he spoke as though soothing a wounded animal that might lash out.

"As if saying please will stop me," I rolled my eyes.

"You don't have to need stopping. Things could change. You could rule as my equal."

"I don't want to so much as look at you after what you've done to me. I will have the scars that you can see for the rest of my life. The ones inside will last longer even than that. No, I think I know the real meaning of ruling as your equal."

"If that's your choice," he said quietly.

In the split second that it took me to summon, the Darkling raised his hands and performed the Cut.

But it wasn't on me.

There was a crack like thunder, and the bell jar shattered into a thousand pieces.

With a terrible shriek of joy, the small, dark form of the merzost swam through the air towards me.

I knew that if I let it catch me, that I would permanently become the abomination. That the Darkling wouldn't make the same mistake twice, and there would no longer be a girl, only a monster.

That it was weak when it was farthest from him.

I threw up a wall of ice blocking him from the exit.

And then I ran.

XX

Writing this was great. A lot of times, when I write, I see the scenes in my head before I put them down, mostly just the blocking and stuff, like it's a movie. *Shrug* The mind works in strange ways. But this chapter has been going back and forth for a while. Anyway, thanks for reading and reviewing! Love you all! xx