Page 54 of A Queen’s Betrayal (Legends of Worldbinders #1)

Beyond the walls of the training grounds, mountains rose from nowhere.

Jagged rock foundations clawed toward the sky, encircling the pit in a mountain range as tall as the clouds.

Arenna’s mouth dropped open as she spun slowly, taking in the newly formed barrier.

Her stomach turned with each blink, marveling at the display of power Kayson had shown without breaking a sweat.

A new fear started in her chest, not because she thought he might hurt her, but because she had no grasp of just how much raw, undeniable power dwelled within the Earthbender. She turned back to face him, staring into the depths of his heated irises, their usual gold now a dark bronze.

Kayson recalled the mountains, pushing them back beneath the surface. When Arenna glanced at the iron gate beyond, the small patch of grass outside the castle looked untouched, as if nothing had happened.

“The most important thing to understand,” Kayson started, “is that you were born with this power as a gift. The Seven and the elements granted it to you, so it’s not fully yours to take.

You may call on it, but it might not answer.

If you build a relationship with the reservoir inside yourself and tend to your power, you can demand things from it. ”

“How . . .” Arenna asked, her brows pinching in confusion. “How can I tend to my power?”

“By training. By releasing it when you feel the burn—by not overexerting or burning out.” Kayson held up a match. “Visualize your reservoir, call it to your hands, and light this.”

Arenna stared at the tiny match, cursing herself for feeling fear over something so small. Disappointment already churned in her chest, doubt whispering she wouldn’t be able to light it.

She had already achieved more than a match, and needed to remember she could do this.

Arenna closed her eyes, breathed deeply, and sought her reservoir.

Placing her hand into the wet fire, Arenna felt the comforting warmth seep into her veins. It started in her hands, moved to her arms, then flowed to her heart before beating through her entire body. When she felt thoroughly hot inside her mind, she knew she was ready.

Arenna opened her eyes, relief flooding her as she saw flames swirling around her fingers. They wove in and out, danced across her nails, and coiled around her wrists.

Smiling, she turned her gaze to the match.

Careful not to burn the king, Arenna extended her hand toward the small, red tip of the wooden match and willed the fire from her hands onto it.

It wasn’t nearly as difficult as she had expected.

Commanding the flame to move felt almost natural, though she knew it was only because it was a match.

One day, it might be a creature, a building, or her former husband.

“Good,” Kayson whispered, the light of her fire twinkling in his irises. “When you speak to it, how does it respond?”

“It didn’t,” Arenna replied. “I told it where to go, and it followed.”

“Even better,” he repeated. “You want your power to listen to you, rather than you listening to it. Now, pull the flame back and unlight the match.”

Puzzled, she stared at the match’s flaming tip.

Swallowing, she looked at the swirling embers and commanded the fire to return.

The flames spluttered, resisting at first, but like tiny snakes, the red fire slithered back onto her fingertips before vanishing into her hands.

“Why was that harder than lighting it?” she asked.

“Because your power wants to light it. It wants to burn and is eager to do so. That’s why you must control it, tend to it, so it listens when you want it to stop.”

Arenna nodded. “Show me more,” she said, grinning.

* * *

The day had quickly winked by, leaving Arenna hunched over, panting like a winded horse.

Magical training was far more exhausting than physical, and Kayson had explained that power draws from every ounce of the body.

That, he said, was why it was easier to burn out while using magic than to overdo it while exercising.

Kayson stood near the armory, cradling his waterskin under a faucet spewing fresh water.

They had paused for the day as the sun began to sink behind the valley mountains.

He had suggested several times throughout the past few hours that they stop to eat and rest, but Arenna wasn’t hungry for anything except learning.

More than anything, she wanted to master the weapon inside her, believing it might heal the pain and suffering that lingered.

They had started small. Kayson taught her how to summon fire in seconds.

He explained again that eventually, she would need to do so with her eyes open and without relying on the reservoir in her mind, but that day would come with practice.

Though it frustrated her not to know everything all at once, Arenna understood.

He showed her how to manipulate fire between her hands, direct it at specific objects, and recall the flames to prevent harm to what—or whom—she wished to spare.

By the last hour, her hands ached from summoning and extinguishing embers repeatedly.

Yet she learned her fire would never harm her nor anyone she chose to protect.

She could even drape her fire over something but will it not to burn.

She then began crafting shields of fire, shaping weapons, and controlling the fire’s distance and form.

There was much more to learn, but a blossoming hope so prominent it ached swelled in her chest. For the first time, Arenna felt like she was enough.

Her power was enough. If she stayed on this path—and if she stayed with the king—she could achieve what was demanded of her.

Kayson drained the last of his waterskin, and Arenna watched every swallow his throat made. Her stomach knotted at the sight, leaving her unsure what to make of that unfamiliar sensation.

“Can we do one more thing before we finish for the day?” she asked, breaking the quiet. The king lowered the waterskin and looked her way, brows furrowing slightly. “I want to summon with my eyes open,” she said. “I want to try not calling on my reservoir.”

Kayson shook his head. “You’re not ready for that.”

“Why not?” Arenna asked, her voice edged with frustration.

“Because I said so,” Kayson responded, walking toward the discarded clothing from earlier in the day. “Once you master the basics we practiced today, you’ll be able to summon your flame with ease. But you don’t have the control to do that now, Arenna, and you need to replenish.”

“And who are you to decide that for me?” Frustration gnawed at the back of her mind. His words made sense, but she knew she could do this. “I want to try,” she replied, stepping toward the king, her voice steady but insistent. “It won’t hurt anything—”

“It might,” he cut in, not looking at her. “You don’t have a good enough read on your powers to know when you’re nearing burnout. You often feel energetic and desperate while your reservoir is depleting. Your power wants to be released, and it’s controlling you.”

“I get that,” she responded, desperation creeping into her tone. “But I know I can—”

“I said no, Arenna.” Kayson grabbed his things, turning toward the castle.

Anger surged through her, sharp and hot, and her hands trembled. “I do not care what you said. You have no control over me, nor do you have the ability to decide what I do. If you won’t practice with me, then I’ll just try it myself.”

Kayson turned, his features hard with annoyance. “Stubbornness isn’t attractive.”

“Good thing I have absolutely no intention of attracting you,” she fired back. “Help me, or go bother someone else.”

His eyes flashed with an unreadable emotion, but the way his jaw clenched—like he was holding back a storm—told her she’d struck a nerve.

Arenna strode over to the armory wall, grabbed a sword, and tossed it into the dirt at his feet. “ Pick it up .”

He didn’t even glance at the sword. “Tossing steel at a king? Dangerous move, Firewielder. Especially when I like to play rough.”

Ignoring his wickedness, Arenna repeated, “Pick it up.”

Kayson gave her a devious, close lip smile that made every warning bell inside her body toll. “I’m going to enjoy every second of this.”

Using the back of her arm to wipe the sweat dripping from her forehead, Arenna took a steadying breath. Every part of her body felt like it was on fire. Her muscles throbbed, her throat ached, and her chest burned. But she stood tall and prepared her body, knowing she could do it.

He grabbed a sword off the rack of weapons. “Fine. Let’s pretend I’m an enemy—”

“You are my enemy,” she cut in.

“Opponent, then.” He groaned. “We’re in battle, and I’m about to attack, but your sword is gone. What do you use?”

She breathed slowly, willing exhaustion away, clearing her mind. Arenna opened her palms, wriggling her fingers. “Fire.”

“Then show me.”

Your flame is yours to control, but it will control you if you allow it. Call to it. Tell it what you need and wait .

Standing in the center of the pit, Kayson gripped the handle of his sword and began stalking toward her.

Come to me , she thought.

Arenna waited. And waited. But no flame appeared.

Kayson was only a few steps away now, the look in his eyes deadly.

Come to me , she echoed again in the safety of her mind. Still, her flame did not rush to her fingers.

Sharp pain broke out above her heart as the tip of Kayson’s blade dug into her vest. “Dead.” He beamed.

Arenna pushed the steel away and stepped backward. “Again,” she grumbled.

“As you wish.” Kayson walked to the edge of the pit.

Their eyes locked, and he charged again. Come to me , she commanded. Defend me .

The Fae King pressed on, picking up his pace.

Come .

Four steps away.

Come to me. Defend me .

Once more, Kayson’s blade found her body, but this time, her neck. “Dead again,” he taunted.