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Renwick said, “Anneli Zayas is wise in the ways of magical battle, Kion. The Malice Moon enhances more than the demons who crawl from the ground. The king in Thales is rattling his sabers. Sending out his mage priests. Anneli is a High Mage from the Stone Tower, and we’d be fools not to accept what she offers. ”

“She has deceit in her heart,” I warned .

“A black heart indeed,” the sorceress crooned, dragging her hand along my shoulder and down my arm as she stepped close. “A darkness you once craved because it matched your own.”

“And what did you crave?” I murmured, the threat lowering my voice when her fingers lingered on my skin. “It wasn’t dominance or blood. Was it dragon fire? To find out if you’d be consumed?”

“Kion,” Ren cautioned.

“Don’t mind him, Renni.” Anneli smiled at the old man. “He’s always disagreeable when the old lover comes to train the new. He’d rather keep his secrets.”

“And your secrets?” I asked.

She grinned like a satisfied cat. “I’m an open book. Look deeper and see…if you dare.”

I crossed my arms, widened my stance. “How are you, Anneli?”

“Quite well, now that you’re here.” The mage leaned against a table, her hands gripping the edge behind her skirts.

Her pose was both provocative and challenging.

“The girl has potential, although she’s raw and open.

I’m sure the Davinicans are aware of her and continue the hunt.

Her power is a light that can’t be seen, but beckons.

Not even Tarian Ardalez could have blunted it enough.

What are your plans for her?” Anneli arched a perfect eyebrow.

“Is she your sacrificial lamb? The unwilling consort? Will you convince her to wear you as a penance? A weight around her neck to satisfy the dragons?”

“I don’t trust you, High Mage. ”

“Such a pity, Draakon. Fortunately, my world does not revolve around men pledged to archaic beasts—although I suppose every woman craves the romance of the restless warrior. Cursed to walk the realm alone.”

“I find life peaceful when I’m alone.”

“And no one is allowed join you,” she said, pouting with a sly smile. “Such pain you inflict without regret.”

My jaw flexed. “Regret is a wasted emotion. What of the girl?”

Anneli turned away and stepped closer to the fire. “I would need years to develop her full potential.”

“The Malice Moon will be upon us in weeks. We don’t have the time.”

“Demons keeping you busy?” She smoothed her skirts. “How are your dragons? Still sulking?”

“Dragons rule the sky and their own lives,” I said.

“Until Senaria forgets herself and calls them again, only now she’s in the Faded Lands and they’ll all come running.” The high mage smiled like a predator. “Will you be joining us for dinner, Kion, or is this visit limited to a quick respite in your busy schedule?”

“He’ll be with us for dinner,” Renwick said.

“Lovely.”

Anneli Zayas turned toward the door. I seized her wrist as she sauntered past. “Be cautious with what you teach her,” I snarled. “I am sworn to protect the dragons.”

“And if I hadn’t bedded you, that tone would frighten me.” Anneli turned her hand in my grasp, stroked a finger against my wrist. “But it’s the same sound you make when you… ”

I tightened my grip on her, and she laughed. “You betray yourself with the concern, Draakon. She’s already gotten your attention, and you hate it.”

I breathed out when Anneli left, hoping to expel her clinging perfume from my lungs.

“Why Anneli Zayas?” I turned on Renwick when we were alone; he’d crossed his hands over his stomach and relaxed in his chair as if pleased with himself. “Of all the mages, you called her?”

“No one else is strong enough to train Senaria in the short time allowed,” my mentor said, sounding like this was another lesson I should have learned. “Senaria’s mage power is very close to yours, and if she is as strong as you…you can’t help her.”

“I disagree.”

“Because you can’t see it.” Renwick’s reasonable tone had me gritting my teeth.

“You’ve spent hundreds of years alone, lifetimes—and then this girl comes along, turning your entire world upside down, and all you want is to put the pieces back in place.

But it’s not who she is, Kion. It’s what she is as a woman.

As a power. As your truth, staring back at you while she walks away. If you let her.”

“Careful, Renwick. One might think you are siding with the mage.”

The old man snorted. “A hell of a thing, isn’t it?

Weighing duty and honor against what you’ve been missing?

I didn’t become your mentor because you needed a teacher, Kion.

You’ve always needed a friend. I remember the man you were two centuries ago.

How you wept for your father. Your friends.

The young ones in the eyries. There was such strength in you, but you swore never to endure pain like that again.

Dragons are drawn to greatness. There has never been a Draakon such as you. But at what cost?”

I shook my head, stepped away.

“This girl is made for you, Kion, but she will never be yours. Orm will move her on toward what she needs, if she can’t find it here.

If you refuse to open your heart. Allow her to break your curse.

Ease the penance. The dragons changed you, but they couldn’t change who you are at the core.

Where your true needs hide. Senaria Wraithion, guardian between realms, is your destiny, Kion Abaddon. Not your penance.”

The old man grunted as he stood. He walked to the window and joined me in staring at the training yard below.

Senaria stood alone. She wore heavy pants, a long-sleeved shirt, and a thick, fur-lined vest to keep her warm.

She’d woven her blonde hair into a braid destined to be messy, but she was not a woman who wanted restraint.

She held a training sword in both hands, up in the defensive position. Then she took a single step, rocked back as if she didn’t like her footing. Stepped again in a lunge and swung the sword; it struck the dummy fastened to a wooden post, hard enough to set it shuddering.

“What’s she doing?” I asked dully.

“Beating the hell out of that dummy,” Renwick said. “She’s been at it for two hours.”

“Who put the white mop on the dummy’s head?”

“She did. Said it resembles hair and helps her imagine it’s you she’s slicing up. ”

I frowned. “She needs a better blade.”

“She needs someone who cares about her. It wouldn’t hurt you to show her some technique.”

I glanced sideways at him. “You said I couldn’t help her.”

“Not with mage power that will battle yours and resist everything you try to teach her. The two of you are like rams, challenging each other on the same ledge. For one to win, the other must fall.”

“So I should let Anneli corrupt her while I teach her to swing a blade?”

Renwick sighed, a soft sound that spiked the guilt.

“When you first came here, Kion,” he said, “You were an angry, lonely boy, flailing away at that dummy just as she does, endlessly. You were furious with your father for sending you here, and your natural talent made it difficult to keep friends. No one wanted to compete against you because they’d lose.

But effort doesn’t ease the pain. Pain eases when you find the courage to face it head-on, not fight or deny or try to beat it into obedience.

That girl is searching for the same thing—her courage. Maybe you should show her the way.”

My jaw flexed. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I want to help you. You’re a son to me, always have been, and I’m tired of sitting back and watching all the little sacrifices you make while pretending they aren’t painful.

Let go of that pain. Find out what you’re missing even if it isn’t what you want.

This girl offers you what you need. Someone who understands. Let her in.”

Ten minutes later, I stood at the edge of the training yard. The uneven ground had hardened after an unexpected freeze. Years ago, sand had covered this space. Now dead weeds struggled to survive between the stones.

The breeze played with Senaria’s hair. She swung the blunt wooden sword with an awkward, slashing movement, as if she hammered at a memory and not a target.

I guessed from the wobble that her arms were tired, but emotionally, she was beyond stopping.

When I stepped from the shadows, she hesitated.

The weapon dropped to her side as she steadied herself.

I held out the scabbard holding a sharp blade—the sword was balanced and sized to her hand. I’d found it in the armory.

“Try this one,” I said. “It might be easier to slice off my head.”