Page 61

LIE ABOUT THE PAIN (EMOTIONS ARE FLAMMABLE)

ARABELLA

I let the shadow dagger fly from my palm, a ribbon of pure midnight slicing through the air. It lodged in the training dummy’s chest with a satisfying thump, quivering in place before fading back into wisps of darkness.

Kazimir stood several yards away, arms folded across his chest. “Better,” he called. “Now try a spear.”

A wave of pride flickered through me, and I rolled my shoulders to work out the tension.

We’d been at it since dawn, and the midday sun was merciless—my leathers stuck to my skin, sweat tracking down the back of my neck.

But I couldn’t quite ignore the jagged silhouettes of scaffolding clinging to the citadel’s east wing like giant spider legs.

Workers busied themselves halfway up the damaged stone, all because Kazimir and I had caused a magical demolition when our. .. “resonance” got out of hand.

He glanced at me, then at the scaffolding, his face unreadable. Drawing in a slow breath, I shaped the darkness between my palms, this time letting it stretch into a spear. I took aim at a distant dummy, locked my stance, and?—

“Your form is excellent,” Kazimir’s voice murmured suddenly from right behind me.

I nearly dropped the blasted shadow spear. I hadn’t heard him move closer, and his stealthy habit was equal parts impressive and infuriating. “You’re distracting me,” I said, forcing my eyes to remain on the target, even as my body snapped to full alert merely from his presence at my back.

“By all means, focus,” he said. “But in an actual fight, there will always be distractions.” I caught the tightness around his mouth as he stepped away. A flicker of pain he tried to veil, no doubt another flare of the runes carved into his bones.

I exhaled, wrestling my attention back to the shadow spear. Steady. Deep breath. Pull back the arm. But his pain had gotten under my skin, loosening my concentration at the worst moment. The spear wavered, dissolving in midair and vanishing into harmless wisps before it reached the dummy.

I swore.

“Your concentration is slipping,” Kazimir noted, his tone carefully neutral.

I glared at him. “And you’re in pain again.”

“I’m fine.”

My truth-sense sparked at that feeble lie, an ugly prickle behind my eyes. “Stop pretending nothing’s wrong.”

“This is your training,” he said, still dismissing the topic. “Focus on that.”

Across the courtyard, I spotted Griffin heading our way.

He lugged a leather satchel that glistened with dark liquid at the corners, trying his best not to get blood on his robes.

He headed for Nyx, who basked in a patch of sunlight near the wall.

My dragon raised her head with lazy arrogance, her half-lidded silver eye on me even as Griffin offered bits of raw venison.

“Exotic deer from the north,” Griffin murmured, lifting a gory chunk and carefully extending it. “Far preferable to my familiars, I hope.”

Nyx sniffed, menacing just enough to keep Griffin’s hands shaking, then snatched the meat in one gulp. Such a spoiled creature. I still felt guilty about her taste for Griffin’s poor, doomed little magical creations.

“Again,” Kazimir urged, and I wrenched my attention back to him.

Fine. Another attempt. My mood soured, but I forced the darkness to coalesce once more, forging an ax instead of a spear. It usually felt sturdier in my grasp. The edges gleamed an impossible black, so dense it seemed to swallow the sunlight.

I braced myself to throw, but Kazimir flinched again, his hand flexing like lightning had marched up his bones. My concentration evaporated, replaced by concern, and I could feel the shadow ax quivering in my grip.

“You really should rest,” I snapped.

He set his jaw harder. “I don’t need?—”

“Don’t even try lying to me.” My truth-sense had been screaming all morning at his denial.

His usual scowl deepened, but he made an attempt at composure.

I felt a wave of frustration spike in my chest. Not only was I dangerously off-balance, but so was he.

And that tension between us got sharper by the day, made worse by the vow of abstinence we’d had to adopt for the Heirloom’s sake. It was maddening.

“Fine,” I muttered, lifting the ax. “Show me how well you can ignore your pain while I throw the next one.”

I launched the weapon, letting the frustration fuel a sharper, heavier shape.

But the instant Kazimir drew in another pained breath, my focus slipped again.

The darkness wavered, flickering in my hands, and in a quick, vicious burst, it exploded.

A whirl of black energy erupted outward, sending me flying into Kazimir.

His arms wrapped around me just before we slammed into the ground.

Shadow tendrils lashed wildly across the courtyard, slicing the air with lethal hisses. One nearly grazed my cheek. Another slammed into the stones inches away, sending up a shower of molten rock fragments. I heard Griffin shout, and Nyx’s raw roar shook the walls. The ground trembled under us.

Kazimir rolled so that he ended up over me, caging me protectively under his arms. His eyes flared white-hot as he raised a hand, commanding the darkness to heel.

“Enough,” he barked, voice resonant with dominion magic.

The shadows froze mid-swipe, then collapsed into themselves, swept back by his outstretched hand.

My ears rang in the sudden silence that followed, my lungs burning from the dusty air.

Kazimir hovered over me, blood trickling from his nose, his breath ragged.

The broad lines of his shoulders tensed protectively, but there was a faint tremor in his arms.

“Are you hurt?” he rasped.

I shook my head. “You’re bleeding.”

He swiped under his nose, almost surprised at the crimson smearing his fingertips. “It’s nothing,” he said, voice tight. He then pushed himself upright and offered his hand to me. I took it, letting him haul me to my feet.

Nyx crept closer, tail flicking warily. Griffin followed behind her, a nervous expression plastered on his face. “What… happened?”

“A minor setback,” Kazimir drawled, though I could sense the effort it took him to appear calm. “Lady Blackrose’s power surged for a moment.”

“A ‘minor setback’?” I snapped. “That could’ve ripped us both to shreds!”

He turned a steely gaze on me. “It didn’t. Which is the entire reason we train. Mistakes happen.”

My heart pounded, part fear, part anger. “Is that what you’ll say at my funeral if I lose control?”

Griffin hovered, looking like he wanted to melt into the stone. Kazimir, meanwhile, was coldly unmoved. “You lost focus. It happens to everyone who practices dangerous magic.”

“I lost focus because you’re in obvious pain!” I threw back, ignoring the tremor in my voice. “You’re too proud to admit it, and you think I shouldn’t worry.”

He gave a dismissive shrug that only infuriated me further. “My discomfort is irrelevant. I can handle it.”

“This bizarre purgatory is making us both reckless.”

He exhaled, stepping closer, voice dropping. “We agreed to abstain. We have to protect the Heirloom.”

I threw up my hands. “Yes, we did. And I get it. But you’re not taking care of yourself. And it’s affecting me, our training… everything.”

Griffin cleared his throat nervously. “Um, I should?—”

“Stay here,” Kazimir ordered.

I folded my arms, livid. “I’m not going to be dismissed like one of your minions.”

He leveled a delicate, dangerous look at me. “I wasn’t dismissing you. But I don’t think this is the place for our little... conversation.”

“No,” I agreed, “it’s not. But I’m done pretending you’re fine. I have a literal headache from your lies.” I tapped my temple. “My truth-sense doesn’t just vanish, you know.”

“The pain is manageable. That’s not a lie.”

I felt the slightest hum of truth, warring with half-truth. “It’s not enough to just manage things, Kazimir.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, his gaze slipped to Griffin and Nyx before returning to me.

My anger still hadn’t cooled, but I lowered my voice. “Let me help. Like I did before.”

He stiffened, looking ready to fire back, but he only said, “Not now.”

I sighed in frustration. “These accidents are just going to keep happening.”

“Not if you work on your control,” he spat back.

I shook off the lingering tremor in my arms. “If my ‘lack of control’ is such an issue,” I said, voice pinched with anger, “maybe the best solution is for me to train without your grim”—I gestured at his entire, tense villain persona—”brooding.”

Kazimir’s eyes narrowed, and for once, he didn’t respond with his usual retorts.

I gulped down the urge to soften, and fury propelled me forward.

“You’re my biggest distraction. Every grimace of pain, every glare you shoot my way—it breaks my focus.

So, how about you give me space instead of demanding perfection? ”

Silence stretched between us, taut as a bowstring. Part of me wanted him to fight back. Instead, he inclined his head in a curt, cold agreement. “Very well,” he said, each syllable laced with biting frost. Then he turned sharply on his heel and strode away.

I stood there feeling hollow. My shadow magic had almost killed us, and Kazimir wouldn’t let me help him. We were a pair of fools.

“Well,” Griffin said softly once the tension had diffused a bit, “that was… intense.”

Ignoring the hammer of my heart, I sank onto a stone bench. “I damn near murdered us both with that explosion,” I said, staring at the cracks I’d inflicted on the stones.

Griffin offered a tentative shrug. “That’s how things go with dangerous magic. People blow up once in a while.” He chuckled nervously. “Or more often than not.”

A faint, miserable laugh escaped me. “It’s not just the near-death stuff. Everything’s complicated. And Kazimir’s lying to himself about his own pain.”

“I suspect he’s done that most of his life,” Griffin said, smoothing the wrinkles on his robe.

His hairy calves stuck out beneath the short hem.

“He’s a brilliant orchestrator of illusions, especially the ones he tells himself.

” He paused, glancing at me. “But you, on the other hand, are a terrifyingly accurate lie detector. I suppose that’s bound to cause friction. ”

I slumped with a sigh, letting the events swirl in my mind. My father’s cruelty, Kazimir’s infiltration of my life, the fact that half his staff seemed to quietly root for him to let me in… “Does he ever accept advice from any of you?”

“Rarely,” Griffin admitted. “He hates looking weak in front of others, even when those ‘others’ have seen all his weaknesses anyway.” He fiddled with a loose thread. “If it helps… I’ve never seen him like this.”

“Is that good or bad?” I asked quietly, rubbing my arms.

He gave me a measuring look. “Maybe both.” Standing, he grabbed his bloody satchel. “I should get back to my research. I’m working on an enchantment that would prevent further degradation to the Heirloom, possibly even allow limited use of its power.”

I wanted to hug him, but thought better of it. “That’s amazing, Griffin.”

He grinned sheepishly. “It won’t address the underlying fracture, but maybe… ah… it’ll let everyone breathe a little easier.”

I laughed ruefully. “It would. Thank you for everything.”

He offered a small bow before padding away, leaving me with Nyx. The dragon let out a low, rumbling sound of reassurance.

I stroked her snout. “At least we understand each other, right?”

She blinked, unimpressed. Then she nudged my shoulder. The dragon was so large now that it almost bowled me over. I couldn’t help a small smile.

“Come on,” I said. “You’ve earned another nap by the stables.”

We walked side-by-side, and as I looked around at the citadel’s looming spires, I mulled over that shocking wave of fear I’d felt seconds before the explosion.

My power was too potent for me to be sloppy.

And that only made me more conscious of Kazimir’s self-negligence.

If he tore himself apart, the entire Western Realm would implode.

And he was the only person who could help me learn to control my magic; I needed him at full strength.

A small part of me recognized that I was lying to myself, too. Maybe I wanted more than just an “alliance” or help with my power. Maybe I wanted the man who hovered protectively above me, who bled from his nose but still shielded me from rogue shadows.

Had I overreacted? Perhaps. But the fear, both of my own power and of whatever was happening to him, had been real.

No. I wasn’t the villain here, but I wasn’t going to be a victim, either. “Space” was exactly what I needed.

And perhaps a few more hours throwing shadow weapons at inanimate straw.

With a growl that felt far too much like his, I turned on my heel and stalked toward the training room. If I couldn’t fix Kazimir’s secrets, I could at least hone my magic until thinking about him didn’t burn a hole in my chest. That was safer than letting his lies and my own desire combust again.