Page 73 of Daughter of the Serpent

"Try again," he ordered.

Sylvie’s jaw tightened. "I can’tdothis," she repeated, her gaze drifting past him, avoiding his eyes, avoiding the weight of his expectation.

"I didn’t take you for someone who would give up so easily."

Her head snapped up, fire flaring in her chest as she fought the flood of emotions that surged in her veins.

"How am I supposed to do this when I know what awaits me? I was never meant to be a warrior. I was raised to serve, toheal- to be a child of the light, not a Drengr, not a warrior! I can’t summon magic at will. I can’t do anything unless I’m desperate - unless death is breathing down my neck!"

Energy crackled between them through the silence.

"You are afraid," he said suddenly, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. His gaze locked onto hers, unyielding. "You fear your own power - and that is the very thing standing in your way. Now is the time to ask yourself why."

She shifted, her breath unsteady.

"There is no time to mourn your old life. That identity is gone. You are no longer who you were." His voice softened just a fraction, but there was no room for comfort. "Now, you learn. Now, you fight - because soon, your life will depend on it.”

How did he do that?

How did he see right through her - to the truths she hadn’t even dared to admit to herself?

Sylvie’s breath hitched. She wanted to argue, to push him away,to cling to her armor, to what felt safe. But her throat tightened, words dying on her tongue.

"Do you trust me?"

She scoffed, folding her arms across her chest, a feeble attempt to shield herself from him. "I hardly know you."

"If this is to work - if you want to unlock your power - you must trust me. Trust me to guide you." His gaze held hers. "You will have to face your deepest fears, surrender to your emotions. And above all, you must trust my judgment - my instruction."

She held his gaze.

Trust.

The word felt foreign. Dangerous.

It had never been safe to trust, not in the temple. It was a weakness, a noose around the neck.

Yet when she looked at him, she couldn’t deny the pull, the connection - no matter how infuriating. Somehow, when she was with him, all her carefully constructed walls felt... unsteady. As if his presence alone slipped past her defenses without permission.

She inhaled sharply, shoving the thought aside.

"I suppose I don’t have a choice." Her jaw tightened. "I’m stuck with you until the trials begin."

Something shifted in his expression. The softness in his eyes vanished, replaced by something unreadable. When he spoke, his voice was quieter. "You always have a choice."

He ran a hand along his jaw, pacing. "But if it is proof you need, then I will make you a vow - here and now."

Her eyes snapped to his, startled.

“My people have a saying.” He said, his eyes turning thoughtful. “With my blade, I protect. With my blood, I give. With my heart, I trust. With my bond, I live.”

“What does it mean?” she asked, struck by the beauty of the words, and the way he spoke them - like each were a promise, an oath woven into memory and the very stars themselves.

“It means that the bonds we forge are what give life meaning -and that by whatever means necessary we ensure that bond endures.” He whispered, his voice a silken thread winding through her bones, sending a slow, shivering heat through her. His gaze shifted, something unspoken flickering in the depths of his eyes, and for a moment, the world around them blurred.

“I do not wish to trap you, Sylvie.” he murmured, his words quiet now. “I wish to set you free.”

She fiddled with her fingers.