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Chapter twenty-five

A Bitter Blade

I threw a punch before the world even stopped spinning and bruised my fist deeply as it connected with something hard on the other side.

“Ouch,” a familiar voice grunted and I came to, blinking rapidly to clear my vision, to see Rook holding a hand to his bleeding nose, hissing in pain as red spots dotted the white snow beneath our feet.

“Ren, please—” Cass begged but I whirled on her next lashing out blindly, violently. She evaded me, shadowstepping a few feet away and holding her hands up in front of her in a sign of peaceful surrender. “Just stop for a second.”

I turned, my braid swinging over my shoulder, and reached for the blade I knew Rook always kept holstered at his side. The warrior was too busy examining his injury to guard against me as I wrenched it from its sheath and trained it on both of them. I held it out, pointed at their throats, and backed away so that I could see both of them at once, so that I could assess the entirety of the threats surrounding me.

“Ren,” Cass said again as Rook looked on in stunned horror, “don’t do this. Just listen to us, please. Give us a chance. We can explain everything.”

“I don’t want any more of your explanations,” I snapped. “I don’t want any more of your lies.”

“Just one more, then,” Rook said, his gaze fixed on a point over my shoulder.

I whirled around and all the breath left my lungs. I faltered back a step, then two. I froze, keeping the knife aloft as my mouth fell open and my eyes bulged from my head. I shook my head slowly at first and then viciously.

“No,” I whispered. “No, it’s not possible.”

“Hello Ren.”

Lark’s voice was the same. That deep, intoxicating drawl that drew me in like a warm fire on a frozen winter night. His dark eyes remained on mine as he watched me closely and I squirmed under the weight of that intense gaze I had thought was lost to me forever. He wore the same dark, embellished cloak, stark black against the backdrop of the snowy landscape we found ourselves in.

I aimed for his neck when I slashed out with Rook’s blade.

He dodged the blow expertly. Rook stepped forward to intervene, already drawing his other weapons, those two swords crossed at his back.

“Don’t,” Lark warned and Rook hesitated as I swung again.

Lark dodged and then dodged again as I lashed out wildly with the blade. I used the training Ursa had given me, placing my feet where they were supposed to go, using my momentum to my advantage. But he had endured the same training as my trainer and had done this for far longer than me.

I raised my arm high, intending to slash down at him, but he caught me by the wrist and spun me so that my back was up against him and he was holding me tight. One hand was around my wrist, holding the blade away from us, the other was around my waist, pressing me against the hard planes of his body. I felt a flush of heat creep up my neck and screamed in frustration.

“Yield,” he whispered, his breath warm upon the shell of my ear.

Hand shaking, I released the dagger and it plunged into the snow below.

Rook scrabbled forward to collect it as I shot into Lark’s soul to find an impenetrable dark wall guarding his emotions. He spun me around so that I was facing him, our noses just inches apart, frozen breath mingling in the frigid air. He cocked his head to the side, dark eyes boring into mine.

“You’ve learned a new trick,” he drawled.

I lifted both hands to his chest and gave him a firm shove backwards.

“Traitor!” I shouted, slicing a hand through the air.

The snow behind him tumbled, rolling forward until it reached a boulder in the distance. That boulder split in two as if it had been slashed, the top sliding off of the bottom and rumbling down the hill beyond. Lark watched with a raised brow.

“Two new tricks,” he said.

I tried my best not to appear just as surprised as they were at my sudden display of physical magic as I glared at him.

“Are you going to tell me why you captured me against my will?” I snapped. “Again?”

He cringed at my tone, at the hatred I was pouring into it. His eyes widened slightly with sorrow. I felt a pulse of sadness plunge into me and knew he had allowed that wall to open, just a little, just enough that I could feel his pain. But I gritted my teeth against it and kept my gaze narrowed at him.

“My father has told you his side of the story,” Lark said then, his voice low, expression grim. “Let me tell you mine.”

“And why should I hear it? Why should I listen to what my kidnapper has to say?”

“Because you deserve to know the truth.”

I barked out a bitter laugh.

“Oh now, suddenly, I deserve the truth,” I scoffed. “You didn’t think I deserved the truth during those weeks we spent together in the Court of Light and Life, or when you pulled me through that rift into this immortal plane without my consent, or when—”

“Yes, I did. But knowing the truth puts you in danger. I thought I was protecting you from that.”

I strode forward until I was inches away from his face again and narrowed my glare, arranging my expression into a sneer.

“I can protect myself,” I growled. “I don’t need you.”

His gaze flicked over me, from my dark, kohl-lined eyes, to my brown training attire.

“Maybe not,” he muttered with a frown.

“Just let him tell you what happened, Ren, please,” Cass was pleading with me from where she stood beside Rook.

Rook hadn’t relaxed entirely, not yet, not until he could determine for certain whether I was a threat or not. His hands still rested on his weapons but relaxed as my gaze flicked to his. I looked over at Cass once, noting the bags under her shining eyes.

“And how do I know that this time he’s telling me the truth?” I asked, crossing my arms and raising a brow.

“I’ll let down my wall,” Lark drawled from behind me.

I froze, every muscle in my body going rigid. When I turned back to face him, he was already staring back, that intense gaze boring into me. He meant it.

“You’ll let me in?” I asked.

“Entirely,” he told me. “No tricks. Nothing hidden. You can see for yourself that I’m not lying. You can feel everything I felt when I did what I did.”

“Lark—” Rook started to argue but quieted at one quick glance from his master.

I watched him warily. He stood in front of me, still as stone, jaw clenched but dark eyes aflame with that familiar determination.

“Fine,” I said in agreement. “Where can we go?”

He reached out a hand and I knew what he was offering. Shadowstep. With a shaky breath, I took it.