Page 57 of The Path of Blood and Betrayals

His eyes flicker to me, than the stunned Skrull, lifting his sword high and jabs it through it’s throat. Only then does my magic release the monster and I heave, vomit and adrenaline rising up my throat.

Pulling me to my feet, I stumble, the heir catching me.

Across the small opening, the first Skrull lays, dead, chest carved up like it was eaten alive. Blood covers the heir’s face and chest.

“You’re injured.”

“Astute of you,” I snap, eyes watery.It fucking burns.

Glancing to my shoulder, under my shirt, my skin is charred as if held too close to a flame, smoking as the venom sinks deep. Stomach rolling, I blink my eyes, looking back to the heir.

“For someone who thinks this will help,” he grabs my hand, covered in the Skrull’s blood, waving my fingers in my face. “You’re terrible at using it.”

Glaring, I whip my hand away. “Sorry we’re not all war-bred warriors like you.”

Stepping close, bare chest brushing my tattered shirt, it’s painfully obvious how exposed we are. How vulnerable this is.

And fuck, my body hurts.

“Magic is a Gods-given gift, Max. And yours? One of the most powerful ever imagined.” He grabs my fallen daggers, lost in the scuffle, and pushes them into my middle. “So fuckingdosomething with it.Bepowerful.”

He doesn’t understand. I’ve spent my whole life trying to avoid my magic. Now that I’m with someone who isn’t afraid of it, compels me to use it, I don’t knowhow.

It’s too strong to control, too strong to use. Nessa did me no favors by teaching me to ignore it, to force it away, because now, I’m left with no way of understanding it. No way of harnessing it.

Blinking away weariness and pain, I clear my throat. “I don’t know how.”

He snorts, grabbing his discarded clothing. “First step? Stop being afraid of yourself.” He sheaths his sword, tying his hair into a knot on his head. “Everyone else already is. Own your magic and maybe you’ll be as powerful as I think you are.”

Chapter 21

Max

Stepping close, Kaden grabs my arm as I start to sway. “You need to be looked at.”

Peering up at him, I try to fight the double vision. He thinks I’m powerful—he’s not afraid of me.

He stayed and fought with me, pushing me to fight back.

Why?

“Taylay is back at camp,” I say, gesturing to the opening. “He can heal me.”

Taking one step, I fall into the mud, much to the heir’s annoyance.

“And you can’t walk.” He picks up up, swinging me into his arms. “Are all blood summoners this clumsy? Or is it just you?”

Glaring, my head droops, cocooned into the crook of his neck as I inhale his deeply pleasurable scent. “I haven’t met other blood summoners. So let’s just say that it’s amething.”

He shifts me, stepping over the fallen corpses and the kicked up branches. “And your magic. This tiredness.” He looks down into my face and jerks his chin. “Bleeding tears. Does that happen when you use it?”

Shrugging, I curl my hands around his neck. I don’t need the support but something wants to touch him.Iwant to touch him.

“I don’t use it often. But when I do, yes. It does.”

“Hm,” he makes a noncommittal sound. “And you’ve never been taught how to wield it?”

I snort. “The Coven isn’t exactly open to me or my magic. Nessa tried but…” I trail off, body relaxing in his warmth. He’s a glowing ember and my cold, stiff body, seems to seek it. It almost soothes the aches the closer I am.