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She had denied having magic, but he’d seen it. Or was he simply so exhausted from the battle at the Ruins of Delmira and rescuing the shieldbearers that he’d conjured up some falsity? It wasn’t unheard of.

He’d been so sure just before their kiss, but now…

Fuck, I’m a wreck,he thought, still pacing the living room of his cabin, the fire burning low. For the first time in a long while, he longed for Talemir Starling’s counsel. His mentor had faced such perils himself. But even were Talemir here, Wilder wasn’t sure he would be ready to confide in him, not about Thea. There were still too many pieces of the puzzle missing.

But the things that had occurred with the reapers and on the cliffs made one thing clear: there was something special about Althea Zoltaire, something powerful, even if she wouldn’t admit it herself.

Darkness in its many forms was looming.

Wilder ran his fingers through his hair with a quiet curse.

The beautiful alchemist would be his beginning – and his end.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

It was the day before the initiation test, and Thea was already in the training arena. She whirled her two practice swords through the air, hoping to keep the fear at bay. Kipp and Cal had been taken to the fortress infirmary for a final night of observation. Wren had informed her that they both looked well, that they were expected to make a full recovery. But her sister’s words of reassurance couldn’t drive the images of them hanging from the ceiling in that cave, their bodies battered by the storm.

Hawthorne had told her that in order to survive Thezmarr, she needed friends – but they didn’t need her. All knowing her had done for them was nearly get them killed.

Maybe this was the reality check I needed, Thea thought as she danced her way through a parry and strike combination Lachin had taught her before he’d died. She didn’t go to the Great Hall for first meal. She stayed to train alone in the arena, and when the other shieldbearers appeared for their last training session, she fell to the back, distancing herself from the rest.

But when she saw Seb amidst the crowd, not a glimmer of remorse on his face, nor sporting any evidence of punishment, she felt that strange surging sensation from within. It went deeper than rage and it coursed through her like a burningcurrent. Her fingernails cut into her palms and it took every ounce of willpower to keep her boots planted to the spot.

The bastard had seen her though, had seen the look on her face that told him she would end his miserable existence here and now if —

‘What are you looking at, stray?’ he sneered, taking a step towards her.

Thea exhaled through her nose, fists still clenched at her sides, still as death as he approached her.

‘I heard about that mishap with your little friends,’ he said.

Thea did not speak.

Her silence seemed to only spur him on and he drew closer, close enough that Thea could feel his hot breath on her face. She did not yield a single step.

‘Why don’t you draw that toy sword of yours and see what it’s like to fight a real —’

‘Barlowe!’ Torj bellowed.

Seb had the good sense to flinch at the tone.

‘If you’re challenging Althea to a duel, I suggest you do itafterthe test tomorrow,’ the Warsword said coldly. ‘Now stop wasting everyone’s time and get back to your training.’

Seb’s narrowed eyes slid back to Thea. ‘How many Warswordsareyou fucking? They’re constantly saving your hide,’ he hissed. ‘But they won’t always be around…’

Thea blinked slowly. There was no need to respond to that. She had made her vow to Seb weeks – months – ago now, when Lachin had still been alive. She had made her promise loud enough for him to hear, for all the shieldbearers to hear.

When we face each other again, I’ll have you on the ground. And unlike me, you won’t get back up.

It was those words she clung to now, allowing them to anchor her fury, in her outrage at the injustice of it all. She would hone that rage and that strange energy that coursed through her verybeing. She would sharpen it to the point of a blade and use it to carve her way through the initiation test that awaited her.

The rest of the day was a blur and suddenly night was upon her. Thea was more on edge than ever, and the final drills and warnings weren’t the only reason. Though she hadn’t seen Hawthorne since, he was never far from thought, stoking that fire within and she was worried it might consume her, might distract her from the task at hand.

King Artos had indeed extended his stay in Thezmarr to oversee the outcome of the initiation test, a decision that had many of the older warriors whispering amongst themselves.

At the evening meal on the eve of the trial, King Artos once more sat in the Guild Master’s seat, while Osiris made his formal address from the chair to the king’s left.

‘My good shieldbearers of Thezmarr,’ Osiris called, raising his hands for silence.