Page 123 of The Dark Mage

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chided, his smirk deepening.“Not like that.Fight me.”

“Fael!”she cried, laughter bubbling through her frustration as he pressed her firmly into thedirt.

“Fight me,” he repeated, stepping back and taking his stance again.

With a resigned sigh, Ren’wyn adjusted her grip on the dagger.This was going to end badly—Fael was faster, stronger, and better trained.But as she drew the blade back slightly, settling into a defensive position, something shifted.

The world grew sharper, more focused.Her body felt balanced and strong, her mind calm and clear.When Fael moved sideways, she adjusted fluidly, her stance steady.

It was strange not to feel likeprey.

For the first time, she wasn’t overwhelmed by fear or the instinct to freeze or flee.Instead, she felt powerful, her body and mind aligned.

A rush of old memories threatened to surface—the bruises from her father’s blows, Erst’s sneering words, the times she had felt small and helpless.Her chest burned with rage, her magic stirring with her anger, and the beast within her growled tolife.

Fael took another step in her periphery, and without hesitation, she lashed out with the dagger.

The strike was fast and strong, and Fael dodged, his hand snapping out to catch her wrist.

“Good!”he praised, but his words barely registered.

The roaring in her chest drowned out everythingelse.

Ren’wyn swept her free arm toward his face.Fael deflected the blow, grabbing her punch and twisting her dagger hand away.She stumbled but quickly regained her footing, feeling the Passage guiding her from deep in her bones.

When she threw her weight into Fael, it was like crashing against solid rock, her body breaking over him like awave.

“Not bad,” Fael said, his tone light but approving.“But you’ve got more fight in you than that, Ren’wyn.Show me.”

Ren’wyn’s grip on the dagger tightened, her body buzzing with adrenaline.She wasn’t doneyet.

His body shifted, and he pushed her away with a snarl.Now, Fael crouched low, his eyes smoldering like molten coals.Ren’wyn gripped the handle of her dagger fiercely as he circled her, slow and deliberate.Her pulse thundered, and she jabbed.

Fael dodged easily, his hand striking the inside of her forearm with precision.

The dagger fell from her grasp, clattering to the ground, and she yelled in frustration.Grabbing his arm, she pulled with all her strength, but Fael didn’t budge.His solid weight and berserker strength grounded him like an immovable force.He swept his other arm around her, gripping her waist in a hold as strong as iron.His heat rolled over her, and something inside her snapped.

She wouldnotbe powerless again.She wouldnotbe a victim again.

Ren’wyn screamed into the night, thrashing against Fael’shold.

“I am my own!”she yelled, her voice raw and pitched high as the wave of emotion crested, and all the old hurt and fear exploded out ofher.

Her power surged in response.

A frozen wind howled across the campsite, roaring like a tempest.It drained the life from the undergrowth, bursting forth like black water from her hands and chest.Black veins crept up the tree trunks, curling and twisting.The leaves shriveled and dried, disintegrating into thewind.

The magic rose higher, unstoppable and wild, frost spreading over the fire and extinguishing it, coating their blankets in a thin, glistening layer.

Fael didn’t flinch.

He didn’t releaseher.

His arms remained locked around her, his warmth a steady anchor.

Ren’wyn’s heart pounded as she became aware of the shades creeping closer.They emerged from the darkest center of her unleashed power, their clawed hands reaching for Fael.Their jagged forms pulsed with malevolence, intent on tearing her fromhim.

Realizing her magic was still fighting, Ren’wyn gritted her teeth and tightened her fists.She swung one arm out as far as Fael’s grip allowed, her fingers splayingwide.