He squeezes his neck tighter. “Oh, so now you care?”
“What do you meannow I care?”
“About your life, because last I checked, I had tosaveyou, Serafina. When you decided you didn’t want to save yourself, when you decided to let them win, to let themkillyou,Istepped in.”
My jaw drops.
WhenIdecidedto let them kill me? Is he kidding? Like I had a choice in the matter? And as usual, I see red. I see red because he may have been there that night, but clearly, he has no idea what fucking happened.
“You think Iwantedto die? You think I could’ve fought back but didn’t?” I stand, taking a step toward him, feeling that same loss of control I’vealwaysfelt, and I don’t know what words will leave my lips, but I do know he won’t like them.
“That’s exactly what I think.” His tone matches mine—sharp and heated—and clearly his temper does, too, as one would expect from a wielder of shadows. And I love how easy it is for me to fall into this feeling. This feeling of complete and utter hatred, and if anyone deserves it, my anger and my rage, it’shim.
Because he is theprince.
He represents all that I loathe, all that Idespise. And gods do I love reveling in the storm of emotions raging inside me. The darkness battling with the light, making me feelalive.
“Well then, I suppose I should thank you then. Sothank you, Ryjax. Thank you for coming to my rescue. Thank you forsavingme. Thank you for delaying the inevitable. Thank you for allowing me even more time to think about my impendingdeath.”
My words, myownwords, cause my heart to lash out because of how true they are, and I’m only now just realizing it.
I may not have died the other night,but I will die.And thanks tohim,I’ve been gifted an extra two months to envision just how gruesome it will be.
I will be a target in that arena come trial day, and if what happened the other night was any indication of how helpful being an Essentari will be…I don’t stand a chance. Like Char had said, I’ll never be able to control the fire.
I may be an Essentari, but I’m still weak.And I still feel powerless.
I shiver, and Ryjax’s eyes bounce between mine, his expression immediately softening, like he pities me, same as everyone else, but I don’t need his pity.
What I need is to wipe that look clean from his face, and I know the exact words that will do it.
“And besides,” I say, my voice low, my fingers flexing. “I never would have neededsavingif it weren’t for the trialsyourfamily created.”
He flinches.Visiblyflinches because he knows I’m right. If everyone was allowed to live, if we were all afforded the same privileges as those living within the Imperial City, then I never would have been targeted in the first place.
Ryjax says nothing. He just stares at me. Stares and breathes. Stares and breathes.
And I stare right on back.
“Oh, Serafina.” Ishla’s soft words finally break the silence, and I turn to her. “I’m sorry,” she says quickly, as if she regrets speaking in the first place. “I should go, but I will be back later with more food.” And then, she flees the room, leaving me alone with the one person who I donotwant to be alone with.
He still doesn’t speak, and neither do I.
Finally, when the silence becomes absolutely unbearable, I cross my arms.
“I can’t exactly be the one to storm out of here.” I look around the room, at the four walls that will hold me prisoner for the next two months. “So if you wouldn’t mind making a dramatic exit on my behalf, I would appreciate it.”
The corner of his mouth tugs up, but only briefly.
“I don’t want to storm out of here, Serafina,” he says, his voice deep but quiet, and I find myself taking a small step toward him if only to hear him better. “You’re right, you are in danger because of me, because of my family. But you will not die in the trial. You’re an Essentari, and that will be a huge advantage.”
“I can’t…” I bite my lip, having a hard time admitting the truth, admitting to him of all people how weak I am…it’s damn near soul crushing. “I can’t wield the fire. I…I tried the other night, and I…I wasn’t able to.”
His jaw flexes. “Then, let me help you.” The words tumble out of him, and I think his face must mirror mine.
His eyes go wide, like he can’t believe what he’s offered. But then he nods his head, like he’s forcing himself to accept what he’s said, forcing himself not to take it back. Although with the way I’ve been speaking to him, I wouldn’t blame him if he did.
“Based on what you’ve told me, I’m assuming your connection to the flames emerged not long ago?”
