Ryleth’s grip tightened on Ashterion’s throat, not enough to cut off air completely but enough to make each breath a deliberate effort. “And yet our dear Ashterion seems remarkably unsurprised by its reappearance.”
“I’m surprised by very little these days,” Ashterion replied, carefully level despite the pressure on his windpipe.
“Hmm.” Ryleth’s other hand traced patterns across Ashterion’s chest, following old scars with intimate familiarity. “Tell me, what do you know about shadow fire that we don’t?”
“I’ve told you everything I know. Shadow fire shouldn’t exist in a human.”
“Shouldn’t,” Ryleth repeated, his voice lilting with amusement. “And yet it does. Which means either our understanding is flawed, or someone has been very, very clever.”
Xyliria leaned forward, her dark eyes gleaming with malicious interest. “Tell him about your little private meeting, husband.”
Ashterion’s muscles tensed against the restraints. He should have known she would find out. Xyliria had eyes everywhere in this palace.
“Ah,” Ryleth’s smile turned predatory. “Secret meetings with the human. How... illuminating.”
“I was interrogating her,” Ashterion replied, forcing his body to relax. “Trying to understand where the power came from.”
Ryleth’s fingers danced across his chest, each touch calculated to find the spots that would cause the most discomfort. “And what did you learn from this... assessment?”
“Nothing of value,” Ashterion replied. “She’s untrained. Volatile. The power manifests without control or purpose.”
Xyliria circled to the other side of the bed, her silken skirts whispering against the stone floor. “And yet you felt the need to clean her up first? To feed her? Such... hospitality.”
“I needed her coherent for questioning.”
“A convenient explanation,” Ryleth murmured, his fingers sliding lower, tracing the ridges of Ashterion’s abdomen. “Though I wonder why you didn’t simply compel the answers from her. Your shadows could have... extracted the truth with far less effort.”
“The human’s mind is protected. Whether by Varyth’s magic or her own, I couldn’t say.”
“Or perhaps you simply didn’t try.” Xyliria’s laugh was like glass breaking. “You’ve always had a weakness for broken things, husband.”
“She’s not broken.” The words escaped before he could catch them.
The room stilled. Ryleth’s hand paused its torment, and Xyliria’s eyes narrowed to dangerous slits.
“Not broken,” she repeated, each syllable dripping with suspicion. “How interesting that you would care about her condition at all.”
Ashterion kept his face blank. “I meant only that her will remains intact. Which makes her a potential threat if not properly contained.”
Ryleth leaned closer, his weight shifting onto Ashterion’s chest, making each breath a struggle. “A threat? One little human with unstable magic?”
The pressure increased, but Ashterion remained motionless, even as his ribs protested under Ryleth’s weight. “Untrained power is often the most dangerous kind.”
“True enough,” Ryleth agreed, though his tone suggested he wasn’t entirely convinced. “Perhaps...” His fingers trailed up Ashterion’s jaw. “Perhaps what the human needs is a proper teacher. Someone who understands the true nature of pain and control.”
Xyliria’s interest visibly piqued, her posture shifting as she leaned forward. “What are you suggesting?”
Ryleth’s smile spread slowly across his face. “Allow me to break her for you, my lady. I could extract every secret, every drop of power from her pretty little body.” His fingers tightened against Ashterion’s throat. “I would make her scream until her voice gives out, until she begs for death. And then I’d make her serve you willingly.”
Ashterion’s heart slammed against his ribs, dread flooding his veins. The mere thought of Ryleth’s hands on the female—of his particular brand of cruelty unleashed on her—made his shadows writhe beneath his skin, desperate to lash out.
“Break her?” Xyliria’s lips curved into a delighted smile. “That would be... entertaining.”
“No.” The word escaped before Ashterion could stop it, raw and immediate.
Ryleth’s head snapped toward him, eyes flashing with cold fury. “No? Did I hear that correctly, little sovereign?”
Ashterion’s mind raced, shadows coiling beneath his skin as panic threatened to overwhelm him. But he couldn’t show it. Couldn’t reveal the sudden, visceral dread that had seized his heart.
