I fight the urge to smack myself in the forehead as I vaguelyrecall Zadyn’s cautionary words when I first arrived here. He said not to mistake Jace, Sorscha, or the king for the people I knew and loved. That doing so could alter nature’s course. So I hold my tongue, refraining from saying too much.
“He reminds me of my dad,” I say quietly, staring out into the night. “He died almost three years ago.”
Jace reaches out to brush my cheek lightly. The surprisingly tender touch warms my skin.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. I lift my hand to rest on his wrist, leaning into his touch slightly. He looks torn.
“I don’t want to betray her,” he finally says, his voice soft as night. His fingers slide to the nape of my neck, sending chills down my spine.
“I don’t either,” I whisper, even as our bodies draw closer like magnets. As I stare at his lips helplessly.
“We can’t.” He rests his head against mine, his fingers closing around my waist.
“I know.” I nod. But if he doesn't stop this, then I know I won’t be able to either. My stomach plummets in sweet anticipation, and my eyes drift closed.
After another second, he pulls back, and my eyes flutter open.
“It’s late. We should go inside,” he breathes, smoothing my hair. I nod and follow at his side.
“Serena,” he pauses before the doors. I turn to him. “If you still want to be trained by someone else, I would understand.”
“Will you stop being such a dick to me at training?”
He laughs, his whole face easing of tension. It’s a beautiful sight. “I’ll try.”
“Then no. I still want you.” He catches the meaning behind my words, his lips parting slightly.
“I’m so sorry. For how I’ve acted,” he says earnestly.
“Thank you.” I can’t stop myself from reaching out to takehis hand. I give it a gentle squeeze before releasing it. We continue back to my room in comfortable silence, and I sleep soundly through the night.
“Ta-da.”
I hold my arms up in presentation, panting as Jace and I finish sparring. Rivulets of sweat drip down my neck as I push a few slick strands of hair off my face.
The king sits on the bench lining the round space, his face a mask of indifference. He stands and slowly walks toward me. I nearly take a step back when I get a whiff of the power rolling off of him.
“Your hand-to-hand looks good,” he says, measuring me up with eyes so like my own. “There is room for improvement on weaponry, but you’re good with a dagger.”
I make a sour face.
“Your newfound speed and strength are impressive.”
I nod in thanks.
Then he turns as if to walk away. I look at Jace, perplexed, but then a spear made of pure ice is flying toward me at the speed of light. Before I have time to scream or duck, a flood of cold blasts from my outstretched hand. My intent is to block the spear from skewering me. But that isn’t what happens.
The spear is met with a wall of solid ice.
Awestruck, I step forward and tap my finger against it lightly. The wall shatters like glass, falling in a heap at my feet. I gawk at the sight.
The king smiles my father’s smile, eyes crinkling gently. I can’t help but return it.
“A deflector,” he says in quiet wonder.
“A deflector?” I ask, glancing between them.
“Deflection is the ability to wield whatever gift is thrown at you by another. Basically, you can use your opponent’s own power against them,” Jace explains.
