“Then survive the politics and the shoes for a few more hours, and?—”
I stopped mid-sentence, going perfectly still as a cold sensation swept through me, like ice water splashing across exposed nerves. It wasn’t painful, exactly, but my magic still reacted, crawling to life beneath my skin.
“Aleks?” Nova’s concerned voice sounded oddly garbled, like I was hearing it from underwater.
I forced myself to resume dancing, to not cause a scene, but my attention was no longer on her. I was focusing on my magic. On the way it had started to twist and writhe, to createthat itching sensation that I had learned to hate. To fear. I only just managed to keep the power contained, forcing it down by repeating the promise I’d made to Nova hours ago.
I’ll keep you safe.
I had to keep her safe, even if that meant putting distance between myself—my magic—and her.
“I need to go check on something,” I said quietly. “Stay here. Stay close to Zayn and the others.”
“What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure yet. But something’s not right.” I caught Zayn’s eye and jerked my head toward Nova—a silent command to watch over her. He straightened, immediately moving closer.
The song ended. I bowed to Nova, pressing a quick kiss to her knuckles before handing her off to Zayn for the next dance. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Aleks, wait?—”
But I was already moving, slipping through the crowd with practiced ease, ignoring anyone trying to catch my attention.
I crossed back through the grand hall and headed for the main palace before veering down a partially-hidden path that led to what had once been the former queen’s impressive rose garden.
Nova had intended to restore the area, but the project had understandably fallen by the wayside, given everything else demanding her attention. Tonight, it had been roped off to prevent guests from wandering into it, as most of the fountains were dry and in need of repair, the paths between them unlit and slightly overgrown.
After making sure I was alone, I sank against the only garden wall not covered in ivy, leaning my head back against the cool brick and closing my eyes. I breathed steadily in and out through my nose, trying to regain control, lifting my hands and studyingthem. No magic escaped my control, but my veins were glowing, the light much darker than it should have been.
A shiver crawled down my spine.
I had a sudden, distinct feeling that I was being watched.
I lowered my hands and focused on listening, quickly picking up on the sound of soft footsteps moving away from me and heading deeper into the garden. Cautiously, I followed the sound. My magic seemed to settle as I drew closer to it, so I didn’t think beyond this; I just kept going, following a pull I couldn’t readily explain, moving farther and faster until all the noise of the coronation festivities had faded behind me.
I strode all the way to the back of the garden, to where no lantern light reached me. Only faint moonlight filtered through the branches of trees, washing over weathered stone statues and painting everything in eerie patterns of silver and white—but it was enough to see by.
And there, keeping perfectly still beside a dry fountain, stood a figure in a dark cloak.
They weren’t trying to hide. That was the first thing that struck me—how they were simply standing there, waiting, as if they’d known I would come.
I slowed to a stop, keeping a safe distance between us.
“Remove your hood,” I commanded.
The figure still didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
“Remove your hood and show your face,coward.” Light gathered around my hands. I tried to guide it toward them, to use it to illuminate their features…only to watch it flicker erratically, like a candle in the wind. Its color deepened, pale gold giving way to that horrid shade of violet.
I balled my hand into a fist and drew it back, pulling most of my magic back and extinguishing it with a tight squeeze of my fingers. But a few errant embers of violet continued todance in the air before me—damning, irrefutable evidence of my instability.
The figure tilted their head toward that evidence. And then they finally spoke, their voice muffled by the hood, distorted in a way that made it impossible to determine gender or age.
“So it’s true,” they said. “The Void King manifests.”
The words made no sense, but they filled me with a mixture of cold terror and an anger I didn’t understand. “Who are you?”
“We are patience. We are inevitability.” The figure took a single step back, deeper into shadow. They had something in their hand, something that glimmered faintly with the same color as my wayward magic. “We are the servants of that Void. The?—”
