Khayrivven tilted his head, hand remaining on hers as he assessed the little vial like it held all the answers. “Fire magic is the most dangerous and volatile of all powers known on the Brestolyan continent. Ice, air, earth, not even illusions or dreamweaving are as dangerous as the spark of a flame when it burns bright.”
His eyes met hers, and for a blink, Lory felt his power tugging at the edge of her consciousness, like a knock on a door, requesting access.
“But youarepowerful, aren’t you?” Carefully, she pulled back her hand, turning the vial over and over between her fingers and instantly missing the warmth of his touch. “More powerful than anyone else at the academy.”
Khayrivven shook his head. “I am just another hand on a wheel that brings forth soldiers and assassins.”
“But you have the most dangerous magic of them all—and you’re a dreamweaver.” That had to account for something.
“The Triad holds more power.” The fact that he didn’t say whether he meant all of them individually or the three of them together made her wonder what else he was hiding. Perhaps that was what Khayrivven Falcrest was—a man of endless secrets, a bottomless pit of frustration when it came to unearthing them.
While Lory pondered the mystery that was that man, Khayrivven got back to his feet, held out his hand for her, and when she took it, tugged her into an upright position, politely ignoring her flinch at the pain in her shoulder while she slipped the vial into her pocket.
“About the trials: you’ll be tested just like every other ashling, only, while they will be segmented for aptitude into respective segments, you’ll need to excel in all: Veiled, Medica, Knowledge, Golden, and Steel.” He named the five disciplines they’d started training on. “If you fail one, they will have me personally take your life, and trust me, I’m not ready to do that.”
Lory marveled at the carpet of reluctance and judgement in his tone, a melody so complex it complemented the conflict raging in his eyes.
Dragging up a smirk she didn’t feel, Lory raised her brow, glancing at the hand he hadn’t let go of. “Good, I’m not ready to die, then.”
A smile ghosted across his features. “I’ll assemble a team of phantoms to help prepare you.”
Just like that, he was back in captain mode, his tone shifting to what could easily become orders, but in his eyes, the tides of ambiguity kept moving.
“Willyoube helping me?” He had to have a reason to want her alive other than that she shared the same magic. “And more importantly: Why save me? Why not let me die?”
Khayrivven’s jaw worked as Lory waited for a few little words that would tell her what was going on in the man’smind who kissed her in her dreams and disappeared in her wake, only to save her from certain death.
Finally, he put on a familiar smirk that would haunt her sleep tonight, because it was equally beautiful as it was dangerous. “I’ve become quite used to you, Gutter Gem. I’m not planning on delivering you to a blade any time soon.”
“Used to me?” Lory carefully squeezed his hand, reminding him he was still holding hers, and almost laughed as he jerked his fingers back. “I can see that.”
Realizing his mistake, he frowned at her, looking her up and down like she was a particularly annoying—and delicious—creature he couldn’t get away from. “Let’s put it this way.” He ran a hand through his hair, taming the silken, black strands and making Lory wonder what they would feel like between her fingers. Something fluttered in her stomach. “You are by far the most talented and most stubborn ashling this year has to offer, and with your fire magic, you and I share a trait that means death to most, yet here you are. You survived the streets of Dunai against all odds; you survived the Gargoyle attack; you lived through the Triad’s verdict. Now I want to see what lives beneath that skin.” He leaned in, eyes glowing with intent. “I want to know what brilliant thoughts swirl inside that pretty head.” His gaze swept over her face, stopping at her mouth. “I want to know what else you can do, Gutter Gem.”
Her breath caught at the heat in his gaze, the deep gravel in his tone scraping over her skin when he leaned even closer.
“I want to find out if you’ll be my savior or my demise.”A shiver skated along her back as Khayrivven’s lips brushed her ear.
When he stepped away, picking up his weapons and sheathing them with a few efficient moves before disappearing through the door, Lory realized Khayrivven had never answered her question about the front lines.
That night,Lory begged the Guardians for a dreamless rest, her heart still racing from the feel of his breath against her skin. In her pocket, she was fisting the vial, wondering if the powder was something she’d have to inhale or if it needed to go in food or water. She also wondered how she was supposed to master all disciplines for the trials in three months when she was still in too much pain to even hold a weapon, let alone wield one or climb up the facade of a fake house on the training parcours.
If Evven had been there, he’d have told her that she didn’t have to do anything, that she was perfect just the way she was and didn’t need to prove she was worthy of becoming a killer. He might have also spoken into her conscience, appealing to her softer side to consider not becoming a killer.
Evven wasn’t there, though, and all Lory could do was count the hours until the pink and orange streaks in the sky announced a new day, and Anees strolled in through the door, dressed in the standard black uniform with the thin, silver outline of a square diagonally crossed out on her shoulder.
“Rise and shine, Lory. We’ve got stuff to do.”
“Stuff?” Grumbling, she got to her feet, cursing colorfully when she hit her elbow on the wall as she staggered the first few paces.
Anees watched her with that half-amused expression. “Khay was right.”
Ignoring the thrill his name sent through her body, Lory rubbed her arm. “About what?”
“You do look delicious in beige.” She snickered. “Like a cream tart.”
Unsure whether to be excited or offended, Lory stared the phantom down. “Unless he’s planning to eat me, it doesn’t matter, does it?”
A laugh burst out of the woman, her dark braid swinging over her shoulder as she shook her head. “You’ll need to ask him about what he’s planning to do with you, but judging the way the two of you look at each other, I’m sureeatingisn’t the only thing he wants.”
