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21

Reyla

“ B efore you leave, I want to show you how to perform nullification,” Lorant said. He rose with me in his arms and gently placed me on my feet to stand in front of him. “Though I need to be honest, I don’t know how to do the spell myself.”

“You said you knew of someone who could perform this kind of spell. I mocked you then, saying that maybe they should teach me, but I’m not mocking you now. Maybe they should teach me.”

“Not this person.”

“Why—”

“Please. No. Don’t. Never.” The hoarseness in his voice told me more than the words themselves.

“I should fear this person. ”

“Very much.”

“Is it the same person who gave you that scar?”

His sharp gaze pierced into mine. “What makes you think that?”

I shrugged. “No reason.”

“Hmm.”

“I guess it doesn’t matter.” I frowned and nibbled on a fingernail. “How are you going to teach me if you can’t do the spell yourself?”

“The same way an instructor teaches about wars or strategy, by sharing what they’ve learned from their studies.”

Leaning against the wall, I nodded.

He paced in front of me as he spoke, and it was all I could do not to smile, because in this, we were very alike. Movement made it easier for me to think, to compose what I wanted to say. I did my best strategizing while pacing.

“This type of spell is about precision, control, and understanding your opponent’s weaknesses. Nullification relies on grasping how magic works, at its most basic level, in order to unravel it.” He nodded as if solidifying the thought in his mind. “Magic is energy, drawn from within or from the surrounding world. Nullification disrupts that connection. It’s not about brute strength. If Merrick could perform this spell, he would wield it gently, teasing the spell into reversing itself.”

“And Lorant would slam the door on the power itself.”

The smile he shot me… If only I could grab onto it and hold it close forever. Imprint it in my mind and on my heart.

“Look at nullification as severing a thread or snuffing out a candle.” A rock the size of my fist appeared in his hand, telling me he could move objects like Merrick. One squish, and he pulverized it. “The foundation of their spell can be reduced to nothing with the right force.”

Crossing over to the window, he released the dust, watching as the wind caught it and swept it away. He turned back to face me and continued. “Nullifying magic isn’t about overpowering someone. It’s about collapsing the bridge they used to reach the power. Picture their magic like water rushing through a dam. With nullification, you don’t build a taller dam, you divert the river entirely. If you can stop the flow at its source, it dies on its own. That means sensing it first, reading the magic like the twang on the hilt of a blade when it impacts with the back of a door.” His lips quirked up on one corner. “For instance.”

I sucked in a breath. “You found out about that.”

His low laugh rang out. “It was hard to miss. Had to replace the door, though I'll admit, I was quite impressed with your ability with a blade.”

“I'm slick.” I lit my finger on fire and blew it out, kind of thrilled that I could do this so easily and without scorching myself.

“With nullification, you’ll need to find their magic at its weakest point and pull hard. Then you should feel it unravel.”

I nodded pertly. “How are we going to practice?”

“I’ll create spells, and you’ll try to nullify them. But you're tired. I can see it in your eyes. We can work on this tomorrow night.”

“Tell me how to do it, and I'll try a few times. We don't—” I didn’t need to state that we didn't have much time. But this spell might actually help us.

“It could take years for you to perform even one successful nullification spell. It's not only a rare skill, but it’s also a difficult one to master.”

“There’s only one spell I want to nullify,” I snarled, thinking of the curse. “One that’s?—”

“Some spells cannot be nullified. I told you this.”

“Why not this one?” When he gave a slight shake of his head, I realized I hadn’t phrased it correctly—again. My growl ripped out, but I tamped down my anger directed solely at myself. “I’m sorry. Let me ask in a different way. Can the curse be nullified?”

He did not blink.

“Fuck.” I stomped to the window beside him and stared out at the world outside the castle, barely able to take in the wall, the dark forest beyond, and the starlit sky overhead, because my eyes kept blurring. I'd cried bucketfuls of tears for Kinart, and when I ran away from the fortress, I told myself I'd find a way to survive without sobbing all the time. Now, here I was, crying for someone new. Two someones, I supposed, though I truly didn’t see them that way. “I don't know how to reconcile this. How to reconcile you.”

He moved closer, but though he didn't touch, I could feel the warmth of his body. He was alive. Merrick was alive. But for how long? “Me or?—”

From the way he choked off, I knew that he couldn’t finish.

That gutted me even more. Stupid tears trickled down my face, but I would not turn and allow him to see them. “Everything. I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need to try to reconcile this. It is what it is. It’s alright to back away, to admit that it’s too much.”

He sounded as gutted as me, and that broke me all over again.

I turned to face him, finding him even closer than I’d believed. I tipped my head back to meet his eyes. “It’s not that at all. I’m not giving up. Never think I will.”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m cupping water in my hands. The more I try to hold on, the faster it slips away. I want to believe change is coming, but that belief is as fragile as a breath in winter, vanishing before I can feel its warmth, leaving only a sting in the air where something beautiful used to be.”

“Lorant.” I burst forward, impacting his chest and wrapping my arms around him. “I’m going to destroy that curse. I swear. Trust me, please.”

He rubbed my back but said nothing, just rested his chin on the top of my head.

Eventually, I tugged away. As much as I wanted to be held and comforted by him and give comfort in return, I needed to work on my magic. If I hoped to have even a scrap a chance of breaking the curse, I suspected I’d do so with power. Perhaps not nullification but with something, maybe a skill I hadn’t yet discovered.

“I’ll take you to your room,” he said.

I shook my head. “Teach me more about nullification.”

“Reyla.” He dragged his fingers through his hair, messing it up. “We can continue tomorrow night.”

“No,” I growled. “Now.”

He stalked away from me and turned back, and the pain in his eyes lashed through me. But his shoulders twitched, and his face muscles loosened. “Alright. Magic carries weight. You’ve already felt it, pulled it in to control shadows. But there's more to this than scooping up what's floating around you. To nullify another's spell, you'll need to find the wisps of power with a negative cast. They crackle like static, so I’ve read. You need to reach into the space they’ve filled with their power and say, ‘This belongs to me.’ It’s not enough to block the person’s spell. You have to reject its existence entirely. Without hesitation. Without mercy. Your will must be stronger than theirs or it could eviscerate you. So start there. Close your eyes and find that elusive power—if you can.”

He didn’t taunt me, but he didn’t hide the skepticism in his voice. I couldn’t blame him. While I was grateful that I’d been gifted with this skill, I sensed it might be a very long time before I could do more than recognize the charge, let alone harness it in time to break someone else’s spell before it killed me.

Lorant crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes following me as I sank onto the cold, uneven stone floor, bracing my back against the wall. Moonlight danced along the edges of his sharp features, making him look more like a statue than a man. “You understand what you're looking for?”

I nodded, pushing a breath out. “Power that feels wrong.”

“Not only wrong, but foreign. As though it doesn’t belong in the fabric of our world, though it must.”

“If night never gave way to darkness and darkness to light, it would be a stark world.” I felt the need to point that out.

He grunted. “As you've discovered, power feels fluid, like water rippling over stone. This will be sharp, jagged. A disruption.”

Crossing the short distance between us, he squatted in front of me, balancing his weight too gracefully for a man of his size.

His gaze locked onto mine. “You have to feel it. Not with your hands, not even with your senses. It’s deeper than that. Tap into the part of you that stirs when you pull shadows or light the air on fire. Do that, and you’ll start to recognize its texture.” He paused, his voice softening. “When you recognize it, grab onto it and find a way to control it before it can crush you.”

“Comforting.”

His lips jerked up on the corners. “Close your eyes. I'll be right here with you.”

With the world blocked off, I focused on the feel of the room. The faint hum of power in the air. The heat of my skin. The cool press of the stone floor seeping through my leathers and creeping up my spine.

“Can you see it, feel it?” Lorant’s voice wrapped around me.

“How do we know this kind of power is here?”

“It's everywhere. Maybe not as potent as the power you've used already. From what I've read, this will feel more like a whisper than a roar.”

I let my mind's eye send out feelers, searching. The power I'd use to work with shadows pulsed in the periphery of my vision, and I realized with a start that it was purple. All kinds of purple, actually, from the palest lavender to the darkest purple that was nearly blood red. And on the edges of the misty purple… There. Gold threaded through with silver. Wisps of it blasting around. In a sense, it was like the lightning I was only starting to command.

Come to me, I told it.

It ignored me. Not only that, but it also flung itself out the window, disappearing from view.

“Feel for it,” he said. “Imagine stepping into shallow water. Explore without splashing.”

“This feels like trying to catch a nyxin pup with one hand and no bait. It ran away.”

“You saw it, then.”

I almost opened my eyes because I wanted to see the pride on his face I could hear in his voice.

“Use both hands,” he said. “And your wit.”

I saw nothing.

Frustration tried to coil inside me, but I shoved it down before it could begin. If Lorant could stare death in the face every night and still hold onto his sanity, I could sit on this floor and fumble for elusive power without giving in to doubt.

“Take it slowly. If I know you, you’re trying too hard to find it.” His boots scraped against the stone as he swiveled to sit beside me. “Try calling to it. Urge it come to you instead of giving chase.”

“Any tips on what words to use to call it to me?”

“I’m afraid the only book I could find with a small section on nullification did not tell me.”

“Figures.”

Sometimes, Farris would play a catch me if you can game when it was time to go outside. Anything to avoid his collar and leash. Most of the time, he was willing to wear them. He must sense that without them, he wouldn’t be allowed to go outside. But he was a sly little fellow, as Faelith had named him, and if he could find a way to remain free of the restraint, he would. As much as he loved his ball, he adored galloping through the castle halls, making high ladies cry out and shriek.

But I’d found if I stooped down and offered him a treat, he’d come almost every time. He hadn’t yet figured out that snatching the treat from my hand resulted in me grabbing onto his ruff and holding him steady while Faelith secured his collar. Perhaps he never would, because he sure loved treats.

Maybe the treat made it worth being collared.

What kind of treat could I offer nullification power so it would let me slide a collar around its neck?

I searched but couldn’t see the power.

“I feel at a loss here,” I said. “It scooted away as soon as I found it, jumping out the window. I haven’t seen it again.”

“It'll be back. Nothing likes a void, and if there's none inside the tower room, it will feel it needs to return to provide balance.”

“I want to tease it into returning, but should I just shout at it to come back? It might be as cranky as you?—”

“I prefer the word, intense.”

I loved hearing the humor in his voice. “Manipulative.”

“Persistent.”

“Obsessive.”

“Only with you,” he drawled.

If I died in this man's arms at this moment, I'd feel complete.

“In some ways,” I said, “this type of power is like you, the opposite of the simple day power.”

“Which is him.” He chuffed out a laugh. “Simple. I like that. I’m glad you’re finally seeing this clearly, Wildfire.”

The rasp in his voice was my undoing. I opened my eyes and looked up at him, taking in the faint stubble along his sharp jawline, the white slash of his scar, and the warmth in his eyes that I was beginning to believe belonged only to me.

“We've talked about my,” his sly smile rose before it fell too soon, “stunning attributes, and you've so nicely highlighted his simple characteristics. Think of nullification in the same way. Creation versus destruction. Nullification slots cleanly into the middle. It creates nothing but removes everything. It’s a deliberate deletion, like erasing marks on a page in a book. Spells leave traces in the world when cast, like ink, but nullification is scrubbing that ink clean, leaving only a blank page behind.” His voice dropped off to nothing.

Blank like he saw himself?

“Merrick has a warmth about him, I’ll give you that. He’s the light that many people gravitate toward. He's kind, hopeful, and endlessly patient.”

“And this is why you'll love him.”

The pain in his voice, the vulnerability, made it clear he believed that no one would ever love him.

I could not let him think that I couldn't love him as much as I could love Merrick. “Those things are good, and they should be celebrated. But they aren’t everything. They aren’t complete, like you two aren't complete.”

“I'm listening,” he grumbled, his gaze intent on my face.

“You’re not his opposite. You’re not his dark shadow or the negative to his positive. You’re his balance, and he's yours. You cut through what’s false. Not because you want to hurt, but because you won’t pretend. That’s a rare strength. Where Merrick protects, you defend. Where he builds, you fight. People need both. I need both. You’d tear the world apart to protect what’s yours, and that…that’s beautiful. You’re passion and storm where he’s calm and sunlight, but neither of those things exists without the other. Storms clear the sky, Lorant. Yo u make the world a safe place for people like him to grow.”

“Reyla,” he rasped, tracing his knuckles across my cheek. His hand slid around to my nape, and he carefully threaded his fingers through my hair, holding me in place.

“Your brutal honesty isn’t something to be ashamed of,” I said. “The way you never compromise on survival, never give in to the idea of failure—that’s kept you alive when so many others would’ve crumbled. You’d fight for me until the last breath, wouldn’t you?”

“I’d battle for you until there was nothing left of me to give. And even then, I'd find a way to lift my blade. To cast a spell. To thrust myself between you and the threat. If every step took me closer to being lost to you, I’d still take them to protect you. To hold you. To shelter you in every way I can.”

“Lore.” I rose up onto my knees and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. “Don’t give up. Please. Stay with me.”

“Even if there’s nothing but my shadow left, it would rise to stand between you and whatever is rushing toward you.” He stared into my eyes, and I saw everything I could ever need there.

“Because of you , you’ve both survived. Don't you see? Where he casts light, you carve the path. And there’s something breathtaking about watching someone who refuses to yield, someone who embraces the chaos and finds meaning in it. So don’t ever think that what you have to offer isn’t enough.”

Leaning close, he pressed a kiss against my forehead.

And when he leaned back, he gave me the sweetest smile.

I kept trying, but the nullification power refused to come back. I didn’t know what treat to offer, assuming something like that would work with a non-living being. Was power alive? In some ways, it felt like it could be.

Finally, he grabbed my shoulders and shook me, making my head flop around. “Stop trying. Now.” He pressed his face so close to mine, our noses bumped. “I mean it. No more for tonight. You’re exhausted.”

I blinked at him. “Gotta try again.”

“No.” Standing, he swept me up into his arms, pulling me tight against his chest. “You’re not doing anything else tonight. I forbid it.”

My head pounded, and my mind kept spinning and threatening to just…shut itself off. I splayed my hand wide on his chest. Snuggling close, I sucked in a deep breath of his scent, willing my mind to relax. “Ruthless shouldn’t smell this good,” I mumbled, my lips dragging across his tunic. I leaned up to lick his neck. “Domineering shouldn’t taste this good.”

He snorted. “You might be surprised.” He hitched open the door to the tower room and started down the stairs.

I slid my fingers up his neck and cupped his strong jawline. “Reckless shouldn’t feel this good, Lorant.”

He paused on the stairs, staring down at me. “If there was ever a time that recklessness had a place, it’s now.”

“What does that mean?” I whispered, my eyes closing and my mind drifting.

“It means that my every instinct and every breath pulls me to you, no matter the risk, no matter the consequences.” He placed a quick kiss on my mouth, his lips brushing my skin as he spoke. “I’d give everything for one more moment where you look at me the way you did up there in the tower.”