“I’ll go as easy on you as you are on my blood pressure.” David shot a devious smile, then spun, blade lifting in one fluid motion.
My own reflexes surprised me. I brought my sword up just in time. Steel clashed, sparks dancing between us like tiny fireworks.
Damn. Ouch.
The vibration from the hit sent a sting straight up my arms. It was way more painful than I’d expected.
I mustered every ounce of strength in my body, pushing forward—like trying to move a boulder. With a strained growl, I forced his blade away in a wide, desperate swipe.
Then—SLASH!
I jumped back in the knick of time, narrowly avoiding the tip slicing across my abdomen.
In no world would I ever believe David would hurt me. But this—this was every ounce of his pent-up, internalized rage coming out to play. He wouldn’t harm me,no, but he’d sure as hell make me earn every swing.
My pulse quickened, beating like a war drum, waking something deep inside. The dark creature shifted. Maybe it was a part of my Soulsayer ability. Or maybe . . . it was just part ofme.
Wyatt watched from the sidelines, his eyes instantly going wide.
I lunged forward, sword arcing high above my head, ready to bring it down with a force. My skin pebbled. Energy blazed through me like static before a lightning strike. For a breathlessmoment, I saw something reflected in David’s eyes. Not me, but aphantom.
And then—Clang!
His sword shot up, meeting mine. His face froze. Shock, maybe even horror.
What?
That’s when I saw it. Wisps of shadow and light curled over my arms, swirling across my skin. Just like the day at Lochlainn’s, when I saw her, that haunting soul in the mirror. A glimpse ofme.
“Bleeding hearts . . .” Wyatt’s voice landed as a quiet prayer.
Our blades were still locked, muscles straining. Neither of us gave an inch.
And then, somethingelsestirred. A different energy tingled up my body, coiling through my forearms, buzzing to my fingertips.
Brown vines burst from my hand, spiraling up David’s blade. They wrapped tightly. Constricting. Lush green leaves sprouted along the twisted stems, and near the base of his sword, a single bud unfurled. It blossomed wide, deep pink petals with dagger tips. A white, strand-like center gleamed at its heart.King Protea.
And then, the flower withdrew, petals curling in on themselves as rot spread. Like ink through water, the vines blackened.
David’s blade creaked under pressure, stressing, splintering.
Without warning, the sword and flower crumbled into complete ash. Blown to the breeze.
David stared at the ghost of where his sword had been. His face rose, locking with mine.
There was something behind those Robin’s-egg blue eyes.Not fear, not even surprise. It was a form of joy, of love, almost near pride.
“Floramancy,” David said, eyes glittering as if he were calling a name at graduation.
A beat of silence ate up the space between us.
Then, giggles and clapping erupted as the Cherubs broke into gleeful cheer. Huck even brought the pompoms.
Wyatt’s hearty chuckle followed, loud and bright. There was an audible inhale of surprise as he beamed at me.
Wait—what?Well this was unexpected.
I couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from me as I dropped the sword to the ground. Less in amusement as it was in relief.
