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“Good. Is there anything I can do to help?”

My face warms, and I clear my throat. “I don’t really think that kind of practicing is what I need right now.”

“That isn’t what I meant, but why are you here then?”

“I was brought here against my will, which proves I need to focus. It would appear I’m losing control over my magic.”

His smirk brings me back to simpler times. “Interesting. Different methods then.” He leans back against the rail. “Catch.” He teeters over and flips into a fall.

Oh, it lets him through. Lovely. Well, it can catch him then—only it doesn’t seem to have that plan. I pull up the air below Tomas to slow him and set him on the ground gently. “How gracious of you to give me some control.” I swing my legs over and jump, very intently controlling my decent. That’s better.

“Did you control our landings?” Tomas asks when I reach him.

“Yes.”

“Excellent. Let’s continue.”

I cross my arms. “Is it all going to be my preventing your attempts at suicide?”

“Honestly, Bell, I’m certain my life is at risk any time I’m around you.”

***

Tomas notches an arrow. “I’m not sure what you could do better with more practice.” The arrow flies true, but I turn it away from its intended target to pierce another in the center.

“You say that as if you’re one to settle for good enough.” I arch an eyebrow at him.

“You aren’t merely good enough.”

My cheeks warm, and I have to shove down the impulse to lean into his compliments. “If you were so sure of my abilities, you’d shoot at me.”

“I can’t do that.” He notches another, and I step in front of it.

“Rylan would pardon you for killing me. I’m only in his way now.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

I step backwards toward the target. “I thought you wanted to help.”

“Bell…”

“You watched Marcus try to drown me and Nina nearly burn me alive. This is nothing.”

His eyes darken. “I didn’t enjoy that, and it’s quite different from me attacking you.”

“You know I can stop it.”

“I don’t know if I can do it.” We’re both toeing the line into something else, and I’m not ready to go there.

“A dagger then.” I gesture to the one sheathed at his hip. “Certainly that’s slower than an arrow, and—”

“Not much slower.” His raised eyebrows give an even cockier edge to his sly smile.

“All the same.” It takes all my self-control not to appear affected by that look. “Go ahead.”

He stows the bow at his back and removes the dagger, his hand trembling, as if it pains him to hold it.

“You said you believe in me.”