Gods, how could one girl make him feel so frustrated?
He swore the embers inside of him hissed, wanting to be unleashed again. But that was just what Soraya did. He’d known her his entire life, even called upon her a rare few times, when Kinlear was locked away in his room after paying penance...and at the time, Soraya was the only youngling who knew how to successfully complete an unlocking rune.
But it didn’t mean they werefriends.
He had none.
And she frustrated him more than he cared to admit.
She made his fists clench and... for some reason, his mouth felt dry when she was near. And he found himself unable to look away from her, because her eyes were like little embers of amber flames, themselves, and...
Arawn blinked.
I can’t stand her,he said.
Yes, that was it.
“What do you want, Soraya?”
“You’re not very fun to talk to,” Soraya said. “Do you know that?”
He blinked. “So don’t talk to me.”
“That’s going to be a problem,” Soraya said, and frowned up at him as she wiped fresh sweat from her brow with a small towel. “I need your help.”
Arawn blinked down at her. “You...needmyhelp.”
She nodded, her dark curls falling back into her face. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”
And then those amber eyes held him, boring into his soul, until he felt like squirming.
She wasn’t like other younglings.
She reminded him, strangely, ofKinlear.
Soraya’s cloak was off, for starters, revealing the penance marks she’d paid were nearly as many as his brother’s. She was one of thosechallengers.The kind of Sacred that loved to serve the gods, every bit as much as she seemed to love challenging them, too.
Gods help anyone who faced her in true war.
Of course, she’d have to get physically stronger, first. She was a terrible fighter. A darksoul would slay her in an instant.
“I need you to train me,” Soraya said, as if she sensed the words in his brain. “So I can be ready for thenomagemarch.”
“What?”
“A cinnamon roll, every day,” she said with a grin, bobbing on her toes. “That’s how I’ll pay you for your services.”
How she knew he liked cinnamon rolls so much, Arawn couldn’tbe certain. But the offer was pointless. “I could just get them myself. I have access to the kitchens.”
She groaned in defeat.
So, he picked up his cloak, which he’d left hanging carefully on the edge of the training rack, and slid it on.
She followed when he turned to go.
“We both know I’ll die out there,” Soraya said, jogging to keep up with him.
She’d donned her own cloak, which Arawn realized, in horror...was covered in wrinkles so bad it looked like she’d balled it up and tossed it to the floor.
