She wouldn’t look at him, focusing instead on the soft fur of the blanket on her skin. “Usually chained to a wall with metal that suppressed my magic while a fire wielder used their gifts.” There were simultaneous low rumbles from the males, but neither moved. “It was the same way they got my magic to manifest when I was a child,” she offered. “Without the manacles, obviously.”
“I need you to clarify that you were achild, and to get your magic to manifest, theyburnedyou until it did so?” Razik asked in a tone so dark and cold, her every instinct went on high alert.
Kailia glanced at him, his pupils having shifted and his body vibrating. Her brow furrowed, recognizing the struggle. “Are you fighting a full shift?”
“Yes,” he ground out.
“Why?”
“Why? Because you were— You were a godsdamn child, Kailia,” Razik snarled.
“I know, but you didn’t know me then. And why are you talking to me like it was my fault I was raised there?”
“He’s not. Not intentionally,” Cethin cut in. “We’re just processing. That was your dream? You were reliving…that.”
She nodded. “Usually in my dreams, I have more warning, but with the alcohol… It was my fault, really.”
“Absolutely not,” Cethin snarled. He reached for her, stopping right before he made contact, and pulled his hand back with a frustrated sound. “None of what you endured was your fault.”
“Others experienced the same. Many worse than what I was subjected to,” she replied. It was how she’d survived. Constantly telling herself it could be worse. That she’d witnessed others experiencing worse, both inside those cliffs and outside them.
Cethin blinked at her, and this time he didn’t stop when he reached for her. There was no brush of his magic. Only skin-to-skin contact as he gently cupped her chin and tipped her face up to his.
“Someone else experiencing trauma doesn’t negate yours and the things you face because of it, Kailia. Do you understand?” he asked, searching her eyes.
It took her a minute to mull that over. Who was she to deserve sympathy and comfort when it could have been worse? When itwasworse for so many others?
“You can have sympathy for others and what they went through, but it doesn’t lessen what you went through,” Cethin pushed. “It doesn’t invalidate what you felt and how it has affected you since.”
That made a little more sense, and she nodded, seeing the potential truth in his words.
“Tell us more about where you were raised, Lia,” Razik said, and she twisted to face him.
He’d taken a seat in the armchair across from them, perched on the edge.
“There are islands to the south of the main continent,” she said.
“The Southern Islands,” Razik supplied.
Kailia nodded. “One of them… There are enchanted cliffs there. They housed a large colony of people. Powerful people. Fae. Shifters. Witches. Other beings… Everyone was expected to contribute to the colony, and your power determined where and how you did that. We were told the cliffs kept us hidden from people who wanted to use us.”
She stole a glance at Cethin, his silver gaze pinned on her, but there was no other reaction to her words. Only an intensity as he gave her his undivided attention.
“Those of us with rare gifts were trained for other things, while those with powerful common gifts were expected to help supply even more powerful beings to the colony,” she went on, watching the king. “After I found myself free of the cliffs, I learned that the Baroness, who ran the cliffs, was trying to create powerful beings using powerful bloodlines.”
“Are you saying the colony in those cliffs was used for essentially breeding experiments? With power?” Razik demanded.
She nodded. “I suppose that’s the most direct way to explain it. There were other nuances, but yes.”
“And you were forced to…” Cethin trailed off, a too-calm fury in his words, but the darkness in his irises betrayed him.
Her head canted to the side. “That would make you upset?”
He jolted back as if she’d struck him. “Of course it would. Only a monster wouldn’t be upset by that.”
She nodded. “I’ve found there are more monsters in the realm than not. They are just incredibly skilled at remaining hidden. Some are even beloved, with their true natures hidden beneath benevolent actions and perceived kindness.”
“How did you get out?” Razik asked, pulling her attention back to him.
