“—No more indestructible than any other—”
She struggled for breath, her feet kicking into the open air.
“—a whore and a pet—”
Her raven screeched over her head.
“—I could snap your neck with one swift move—”
Help, she called out.
“—But I wonder how she would weep if you were dropped off this cliff—”
The raven dove at his face.
Rhaif cried out, and his hand slipped from around her throat.
Her ankles hit the grass hard, and she looked up just in time to see blood trickling down her brother’s face. He shoved her raven off him finally as Aydra stood from the ground. Bewildered eyes met hers, as though he were suddenly waking from the trance he’d been under only a moment before.
For a few seconds, neither moved. Aydra rubbed her throat, feeling her muscles shaking as she wrapped her head around the reality of what had just happened. The gaze in his eyes softened, and she watched as his chest began to heave, and then he reached out for her.
“Drae—”
She flinched away from him and started walking backwards down the trail. “Don’t touch me,” she whispered.
He’d apologized and wept in her arms that night, swearing to her he would never do it again. Swearing he’d just been frustrated at their youngers’ markings the day before.
Lies.
Her dream morphed, and suddenly she was on the floor of the Throne Room, Rhaif standing above her triumphantly.
It was the day Rhaif had finally been marked of his sign and given his abilities— ten years after Aydra’s own marking, and a full Dead Moons cycle after their youngers had been given their markings.
Summer had been in full bloom. Aydra could still smell the flowers on the vines that had entangled themselves around the stone of the Throne Room.
Arbina walked along the edge of her pool, her feet hardly making ripples in the surface as she watched Aydra and Rhaif parry. They’d had a good morning, went swimming down around the bend, chased each other over the sand when Aydra had told the seagulls to annoy him more than usual.
Rhaif grinned and extended a hand to Aydra’s fallen figure. Aydra paused, her confused gaze washing over the pride in her brother’s features. Her chest swelled at his smile, and she took his hand.
“You’ve been practicing without me,” she noted.
Rhaif chuckled under his breath and pulled her up off the floor. “I don’t always need your help, favored daughter,” he said with a wink.
Aydra rolled her eyes, but did not deter the smirk from her lips. She whirled her sword in her hand and grinned at her brother’s smug facade.
“We’ll see how long that lasts.”
He lunged forward, striking swords with her again and again, this time more fiercely than the times before. Aydra was pushed backwards. Her brows narrowed at this newfound strength he’d suddenly found, but she continued to fight him anyway. He was fast, much faster than she was accustomed to him being.
“Rhaif—”
A wildness filled his dilated pupils. She tried to push forward, to strike him above her.
But the edge of the Throne Room met her feet.
Aydra yelped as her heels hit nothing but air, and the wooden sword in her hand fell into the waterfall.
“Rhaif!”
