Araya opened her mouth, desperately wishing she could lie. What she would give to sayyesand sweep all of this under the rug—but it stuck in her throat like shards of glass. She coughed, dislodging the lie and letting the truth slip out instead.
“I started my cycle six months ago.” Araya dropped her eyes, unable to face the betrayal she knew she’d find in Serafina’s expression. “I didn’t tell anyone. I just filed the mandatory report with the Arcanum and sent a letter to Jaxon—but that’s it.”
Serafina stiffened. Her breath hitched once, like she’d been slapped.
“Jaxon,” she repeated, her voice sharp. “That’s why he’s back then. Swooping in like the vulture he is.”
“He could help me?—”
“I could have helped you!” Serafina snapped. The words rang out, too loud against the crash of the waves. But her voice hollowed at the end, fraying with hurt. “You should’ve toldme.”
Araya pressed her arms tight around herself, as if that could keep everything inside from breaking loose. “You can’t stop the Arcanum from revoking my waiver.”
“And Jaxon can?” Serafina demanded. “You don’t need him, Araya. You’ve served the Arcanum loyally for years. That has to mean something.”
“Does it?” Araya laughed, bitter and breathless as she finally looked up to meet Serafina’s eyes. “Even for a halfblood?”
The slur hung between them, ugly and heavy. Serafina’s face tightened, but she didn’t flinch away.
“They’ve already made exceptions for you,” she pressed. “They haven’t said anything yet. Maybe they just won’t.”
“I’m not risking my life on a ‘maybe,’” Araya said flatly. “Jaxon could be my only sure way out of this. He said he’d help me?—”
“Three years ago,” Serafina said. “Before he left you here without a word of warning. He’s not here to save you out of the goodness of his heart, Araya. He wants something.”
“Of course he does,” Araya snapped. “The same thing he’s always wanted—me.”
It hadn’t mattered that it was forbidden—not to him. Jaxon always took what he wanted, rules be damned. And when she was his apprentice, what he wanted washer.
Or at least, she’d thought it was. Until he left.
Serafina stared at her, eyes wide as the wind lifted the loose hair that had escaped her braid from her face. “Araya…you don’t still love him, do you?”
“I don’t have the luxury of love,” Araya snapped. “There isn’t another choice here, Serafina—not for me.”
She turned away, black glass crunched under her feet as she stormed toward the street. Sometimes it felt like Serafina lived in a different world than she did. But Araya knew better. Jaxon was young,powerful, and ambitious. Even if he didn’t love her, there were worse human mages to tie herself to.
“Araya, wait!” Serafina caught up to her, voice breathless. “If there was another way out—would you take it?”
Araya froze mid-step, her back still to Serafina. “There isn’t another way.”
“You could leave,” Serafina whispered, as if even the wind might carry it to the wrong ears. “If we planned it right?—”
“No.” Araya spun around so fast the hem of her cloak snapped. “Are youinsane?” Her voice shook. “Do you have any idea what they’d do to us if someone heard you say that?”
“I’m just saying?—”
“No,” Araya hissed. “If they catch me eventhinkingabout that, they won’t just revoke my waiver—they’ll collar me. It will be Kaldrath all over again—only worse.”
Serafina’s lips parted, maybe to apologize, maybe to argue—but Araya didn’t wait to find out. If she stopped to listen, even for a second, the hurt roiling in her chest might boil over into something she couldn’t take back.
There was a new guard at the gate. He barely glanced at Araya’s papers before waving her through, but she still caught the sneer curling at the edges of his mouth.
“Happy Ascendancy,” he said.
Araya nodded stiffly, tucking her papers away. She should have thanked him, but twisting the words into a half-truths she could speak would take more energy than she had left.
Serafina fell into step beside her, their footsteps the only sound in the deserted streets. The transition was subtle at first—a few intact windows, a freshly painted door. The streets widened, the golden light from well-tended aetherlamps softening the edges of the darkness. Even the buildings stood straighter, small gardens full of sweet late-summer flowers spilling over wrought iron fences. Somewhere, a woman’s laugh drifted through an open window, light and carefree.
