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“Tap out,” she whimpered, fresh tears sprinting down her reddened cheeks as she stabbed my brain with another hot poker. Or at least that was the sensation she conjured within my mind.

I screamed out from the hot, searing pain. Then I moaned, rolled over to my side, and vomited.

“I can’t!” She stood up and the pain instantly stopped. The ringing in my ears was gone, and I could see clearly once more.

She spun around and directed her anger at Kenvin, spread her hands wide, and summoned a bright red flickering ball of energy between her palms. Her eyes glowed an emerald-green, and she bared her teeth like an animal.

“You’re doing this on purpose. Youwantme to hurt them. This is all a game to you, isn’t it? You never wanted to help me.” Rolling the ball around between her hands, it grew in size until it was larger than a basketball, pulsing and flickering. It wasn’t flames she held, it was pure energy.

I’d never seen anything like it in my life, and by the look of wide-eyed shock on Kenvin’s face, neither had he. “You need to practice, Omaera,” he said calmly, though I could smell the stress sweat developing on him. “You need to learn how to control your powers. I know you don’t want to hurt them, but they’re the only other people here you can trust.”

Pushing myself up to a sitting position, I inched over toward her. I couldn’t stand yet, but I rested my hand on her foot and she glanced down at me, the mask of fury on her face softening slightly. The energy ball shrunk a little too. “It’s okay, Omaera. I can take it. He’s right. You need to practice.”

Fat tears welled up in her eyes, then tumbled down her flushed cheeks. “I don’t want to hurt you.” She glanced at the other two. “I don’t want to hurt any of you. You’re …” she swallowed, “you’re all I have.”

“Maybe we should call it for the day?” Maxar suggested from the sidelines, a bloody rag in his hand from where he’d mopped up his own mess from his eyes, nose, and ears. Even though mages could put up shields against demons,Kenvin specifically asked Maxar not to so that Omaera had more than just me to practice on. “This has been a lot for the first day of training.”

Kenvin sighed, flicked his gaze to me, then to Omaera, and finally nodded. “Fine. Tomorrow we’ll start with weaponry. But we still need to work on things. I had to put up some incredibly strong shields to block you from slicing into my brain. Your anger is what fuels your power at the moment, and that’s not safe. For anybody.” He stood up and approached Omaera, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Rest tonight, Your Majesty. There is a fourth room if you should choose to sleep alone.” He cast a quick glance at Zandren, then shuffled off out the shoji doors, but not before calling, “Dinner will be barbecued magsith. Go shower and I’ll see you all in an hour.”

Maxar peeled himself up from the floor. So did Zandren. Neither of them offered me a helping hand up, but then again, I’m not sure I would have accepted it if they did. We tolerated each other. We co-existed because we had to. Not because we wanted to. Not because we liked each other.

I’m sure over time—maybe a century or two—that toleration would turn into apathy or general disinterest, but I wasn’t holding my breath.

“What do you want to do, Little One?” Zandren asked, approaching her and wiping tears from her cheeks with his club thumbs.

“I just want a shower,” she said with a deep sigh, her shoulders rounding. “I can’t think past that. I know what you guys have endured—” she glanced at Maxar and myself, “is excruciating and exhausting, but enacting that kind of torture and mindfuckery is draining as well.” She focused back on Zandren. “I can’t think past that. I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize.”

“You go shower first. I need to just collect my thoughts. Okay?”

Zandren and Maxar both nodded, then trudged out of the training room. That left my mate and me. She offered me a hand, and I took it, allowing her to heave me to my feet.

“Do you need to feed?” she asked, lifting her arm, ready to give me her wrist.

I shook my head, my jaw tensing as I took in her blotchy skin and the dark circles beneath her eyes. The fact that she was so readily willing to allow me tofeed from her hit me harder than expected. I probably did need to, but the last thing I wanted was to take anything more from her. She was exhausted and so sad.

“I’m really sorry, Drak,” she whispered, releasing my hand. “You didn’t tap out. Why didn’t you tap out?”

That brought a half-smirk to my blood-crusted lips. “I’ve been tortured far worse than that in my life. I was okay. I will heal from this.” Besides, the torture she delivered was nothing compared to the torture of seeing her so upset.

She closed her eyes. “I know you’re keeping something from me.”

I jerked a little, a rush of heat filling my chest, but I was quick at steeling my reaction. Luckily, her eyes were still closed.

“I wish you weren’t,” she went on, opening her eyes and hitting me with that green fire in her gaze. “I hope you’ll tell me when you’re ready.” Her bottom lip trembled a little, and she swallowed, pulling in a rattled breath through her nose. “I’m also trying to give you some grace right now because of what happened. Your king, your cousin, yourfamilybetrayed you and tried to have you killed.”

“They tried to have you killed as well,” I said, quickly changing the subject.

But she shook her head. “No, actually, they didn’t. Nobody came after me. Not one vampire in that ambush touched me.”

I furrowed my brow, scanning her face, seeking an answer I knew I wouldn’t find. That didn’t make sense. If Howar was working with Lerris, wouldn’t it make sense to kill Omaera? To take her out?

“Yeah, I thought it was strange too.” She buried her top teeth into her bottom lip to help keep her emotions in check. Then she shook her head and waved her hand in dismissal. “Anyway, we can dissect that another day. I just want you to know that I’m sorry for what you’re feeling and what you’re going through. You’ve been quiet …” she wrinkled her nose in a cute way, “quiet-er,since we went through the portal, and I’m guessing it’s because you’re processing. We all process and grieve differently.”

“I’m not grieving.” I instantly regretted my sharp tone.

But she didn’t snap at me like she may have a week ago. All she did was give me a sad smile.