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He shook his head.“Whether to fight for you.”

“You want to start a fight with a man who may be dead.” The thought shouldn’t have thrilled me as it did.

Brekt smiled, and seeing those full lips shaped into a wolfish grin, I stopped thinking. He bent forward to level his obsidian gaze with mine. “That wouldn’t be a fight, love. I know my capabilities. I know how to size up an enemy.”

“His name is Ollo.”

“Dickhead sounds better to me.” Brekt faced the city as if ending the conversation.

And I suddenly wanted to hit him.

“Ollo is hardly the dickhead. I think you earned that title.”

“Don’t hold back what you really think.” Brekt pushed dark strands of hair out of his face.

“Like you didn’t hold back your viciousness every time before?”

He winced. “I apologize for that more than anything. I am doing my best and gaining more control. I haven’t been thinking clearly.” His nostrils flared as he glanced sideways at me. His back was rigid, wound tight. “What happened to your shoulder?”

“That was your fault, too.”

He faded further from sight, but a shift in his shadows told me he turned to face me. “How so?”

I puffed the hair from my face, walking up to the balcony and standing next to him. I leaned my forearms against the railing and looked down, regretting it. We were towering over the city below. “I guess I can admit that one was the Aspis. You bit my arm clean off. I still can’t bend two fingers.”

I held my hand in the air over the railing. I made a fist to demonstrate.

“Liv, I … fuck .”

I peeked over at him. He was visible again, his mouth open, gaping at my shoulder.

“It’s not the worst thing I’ve been through. Hardly makes the cut.”

His death had been. I forced my attention away from him before I unravelled from what I had been through—what I was going through.

“What happened on that field?” His voice was low, pained.

“The burning field?” That was so long ago.

Brekt was taking in the buildings past the balcony as if looking for answers in the night. “I remember very little after the Aethar got my heart. I haven’t asked anyone about it.”

“How much of it did you feel?” My chest constricted, remembering his transformation into the Aspis.

“All of it. The sword wound, the skin peeling away, my body stretching and growing. But my consciousness began changing. Pieces of myself fell away until I didn’t exist.”

“I had hoped you were spared from feeling it.”

He was silent for several moments, captured by the city beyond.

“I had dreamt of darkness before.” He threaded his fingers together in front of him, now gazing at his hands.

“I thought it was my death. But it was my time as the Aspis. Now, I wonder how much I understand my dreams. I thought you died from the Ikhor’s flame.

” He sent a smirk my way. “Was pretty wrong about that one.”

I couldn’t think about that night without feeling the pain of it all over again. “After you faded, I ran. Nuo hates me because of it. They’ve chased me ever since.”

“They didn’t stop you. Some part of them had to know. They believe you now.”

I wasn’t sure what he wanted to know or what I should admit. “I’ve only run into them a couple of times. I’ve stayed out of reach.”

“And did you attack them?” His unguarded look hurt to see.

I realized too slowly what he had asked, and the feeling quickly turned to anger.

“I didn’t harm them.” I stepped away. “You want to know how much harm I have caused. You asked me what happened since you became the Aspis, but what you really mean to ask is what I have done.”

Brekt cursed. “I don’t know what’s happened. That’s why I am asking. I am waiting to hear it from you.”

I pounded a fist against the railing. “I didn’t harm anyone.” That wasn’t true. “Well, I accidentally killed the Aethar that night on the field. I didn’t understand then. I flooded most of Veydes. I set fire to Ouras’s temple?—”

“What?”

“But none of it was on purpose. The most I used my magic was fighting you—the Aspis.”

His head dropped into his hands. “I’m having a difficult time with willpower. It’s not my own will controlling me. Not my body. Not my choices.” His fingers ran through his hair, squeezing. “It’s hard to keep things straight, and I—sometimes, I don’t remember what I’m fighting for.”

I made to step closer, but he flinched, forcing me to back away. “The reasons you fight are a short list of names, I think.”

Brekt’s eyes flashed as they collided with mine, waiting to hear what I meant.

“Nuo, Kazhi, Bastane. Me if I’m being so bold.”

I wasn’t sure if I should have added myself.

“And what do you fight for, Ikhor?”

“An even shorter list of names.”

Disappointment was evident in the way Brekt dropped his shoulders. “Ah. These Aethar, the blue ones.”

“Yes, they saved me every step of the way. They had been looking for me when I was with the Guards, with you. They were tasked to bring me to their home, Rydavas. This Aethar continent.”

Brekt skimmed over the city, at the modern buildings and streets, and I could tell he was fighting against something in his head. “I could have never pictured this existing. Do the scarred Aethar live here too?”

“No, they live only in the south, near the canyons. Most of Rydavas is inhabited by legacies like you. Like the Veydians.”

“How?” Brekt was already pale and beat up, but the shadows under his eyes deepened as he searched my face. I knew how it felt to have too many truths thrown at you while believing none of it.

“Don’t pass out,” I teased. “It took me weeks to believe it. And I’m new to every part of this world.”

“How could there be legacies hidden from us? How could we not have known?”

“The Rydavians hate the Guardians. They keep themselves safe.” Brekt’s brows came together as I continued. “They are told stories that make them hate the Guardians when they should hate the Council. Both sides are wrong, in my opinion.”

“Well, it seems that we agree on something, these Aethar and me.”