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The next time the heat moves through me, it’s like I’ve opened a door inside myself I didn’t know was locked. Magic streams through it with such ferocity it feels endless. I scramble to my feet and throw my hand out, aiming straight for Leon’s shield.

Any ordinary shield would surely melt under the strength of the blast, but in this case my sun beam hits the reinforced metal so hard it flies out of Leon’s hand.

He ducks in time to avoid being hit by the shield or the beam, which is still chasing after it.

The shield hits the wall first, leaving a deep dent before it clatters to the ground.

The sun beam follows seconds after, colliding with the wall hard enough to send a shower of sparks across the room.

Cracks spider out from the impact point, and a cloud of plaster billows outward like smoke.

“Stop,” Gallis calls, holding up her hands as she strides onto the training ground, stepping over the churned and charred earth.

“Was that what you would call a display of precision?” she demands.

I know she wants me to say no, but when I think about the sheer amount of power I just felt move through me, all I feel is pride.

“I hit the shield, didn’t I?” I say.

She shakes her head. “When you were aiming for his feet, I thought you were getting it, even if you were still only sending out single, overly powerful beams at any one time. But that last display was nothing but brute force.”

Defiance rises up in me at her criticism. I showed I was strong . I beat Leon, for gods’ sake. Surely that counts as success?

“With respect, proctor, I got the job done. What does it matter if I’m precise about it? Why are we worrying about how prettily I do it if the whole point is to be able to defend myself in whatever way I can?”

The proctor opens her mouth to respond, but Leon cuts her off. “Please, proctor, allow me.”

When I look at him, I’m surprised by the steel in his eyes and the hard set of his mouth. He looks angry.

“It matters because defending yourself is not the same as burning everything up. It matters because you don’t deserve to have all this power if you’re not going to learn how to use it properly,” he growls.

Then, to my shock, he stalks out of the room.

Maybe it’s the adrenaline still running through my veins from the fight, but as I watch his retreating back, I know I can’t let those words go.

“Excuse me, proctor,” I say stiffly. “And sorry about the wall.”

Leon

I hear her footsteps behind me, having to make two strides to my one just to catch me up as I charge through the Lyceum halls.

“What is your problem?” she demands. I say nothing. It’s better to not even look at her as I try to calm myself. “I don’t deserve my power? That’s bullshit .”

“You don’t deserve it if you allow yourself to be consumed by it, allow it to control you rather than the other way around. Well done, you showed off how strong you are—but like Proctor Gallis said, that’s not the be-all and end-all.”

My words don’t placate her. She’s smart enough to know she hit a nerve with me, and she’s not going to let this go.

“Is this about Fairon?” she continues. “It is, isn’t it? You’re mad I’m not listening to the proctor’s instructions because it puts me further away from being able to heal him.”

“That’s not it,” I say, turning a corner. But she keeps stumbling after me.

“I thought you wanted me to get better at protecting myself, but when I do, you’re pissed? I guess all you care about is whether my magic’s useful to you.”

Resentment sparks in me at her words, and I stop, turning on her.

“How can you think that’s true, after everything we’ve been through?”

Her eyes flicker as she steps backward, but she’s not afraid. Even as I loom over her until her back hits the wall of a little alcove off the corridor, her face is the picture of contempt.

“Do you mean all those times you saved my life, knowing you couldn’t let me die while I was still useful?

If it wasn’t because I was good for Fairon, it was about what was good for your country, right?

And then when it became inconvenient for me to have power, you took it from me.

So what in all that is supposed to tell me you care? ”

I know that from her point of view, it must seem impossible to trust me. But from where I’m standing, it’s her perspective that doesn’t make any sense.

“I can’t let you out of my sight without obsessing about your safety,” I say, bringing my face close to hers so she can take in every word. “Every minor injury you get has me tearing my hair out, wondering how I could have protected you better.”

I risk lifting my hand, running my thumb over the graze that starts on her chin and travels up to the corner of her mouth. Her eyes are still burning with anger, but her breath hitches as I brush my finger across her bottom lip.

How I want to taste those lips again—I obsess about those almost as much as anything else—and the heat radiating through me as I touch her now makes it hard to withdraw my hand.

I know she feels it too. I’m tuned in to the tiniest shifts in her body, the way her hips tilt slightly toward me, the way her jasmine scent deepens into something raw and primal as she meets my gaze.

“Most of my unit thinks I’ve lost my mind,” I say, my voice low. “And you think I’m in this state because you’re useful to me?”

She swallows, and my eyes go to her neck, watching the muscles tighten. Something else tightens within me in response, and I force myself to look away before I throw all caution to the wind and do something else she won’t forgive me for.

“You’re a hypocrite,” she says, her voice rough.

“You encouraged me to explore my powers from the beginning, and now you have the audacity to criticize how I’m doing it?

As if you’re not the very essence of brute force, using your power to flatten anyone who stands in your way.

How many people have died because the Nightmare Prince didn’t care about curbing his strength? ”

I close my eyes, letting the impact of her words reverberate through me. I know she used the name the humans call me on purpose, calling back to another thing I’ve refused to tell her. What she doesn’t know is that event is exactly why I just lost it in the training room.

I straighten, pulling away from her.

“Come with me. We can’t talk about this here.”

“What do you mean?” she asks, her intense expression wiped away by surprise. “Talk about what?”

“I’m going to tell you what really happened at the Massacre of Mistwell.”