“So, you really need this case, huh?” I asked, hoping he was as desperate as I was.
He nodded. “Literally been waiting for a systemic infection case since last year. My master teacher will be thrilled.”
I frowned. “How will he know?”
He looked at me like I was an idiot and then showed me the backs of his hands. “The systemic infection healer’s mark will appear after I heal your father.”
I realized then that the wheel-like mark was a collection of many different symbols. All different healings he’d done? He had more marks than the Hayes boy, so that was good. I’d gotten the more experienced healer.
It was fascinating, but there wasn’t time to probe him about any of it. When he vaulted onto the horse and swung his leg over it, he looked down at me.
I felt myself visibly pale. “I’ve never ridden a horse,” I confessed.
He looked annoyed. “I don’t have time to teach you. Just hold on.”
Now was the perfect time to tell him I was cursed and that if he touched me, I would be sent into waves of excruciating pain. But I’d never been outside of Isa, and in Isariah everyone knew about my curse and looked at me with pity for it. He didn’t and I liked that.
So, against my better judgement, I slipped my foot into the stirrup, covering any exposed flesh with my cloak, and leapt onto the horse. The second my butt hit the saddle we took off out of the barn and I yelped. The sudden motion forced me to reach out and grasp his waist and I braced myself for pain. Luckily, there was none. No exposed flesh.
Thank the Light!
“What street are you on?” Ariyon asked as we rode out a different set of school gates, larger and clearly meant for horses.
I’d have to hit him with the truth and hope he still helped me.
“I’m…not from The Gilded City. I walked here from Isariah,” I said into his ear. He yanked the reins so hard that the horse lifted into the air and then came down hard, almost throwing me off.
Ariyon turned slowly in his saddle, steel-grey eyes wide and nostrils flared. His jaw was clenched, and I knew he was angry, but he was also the most terrifyingly-beautiful male I’d ever seen. As I looked upon his face at this close range, my breath caught in my throat, momentarily stolen by the sheer beauty of his features. Every contour seemed meticulously sculpted. His strong, chiseled jawline seemed as if each angle was perfectly carved, and his sharp nose gave an air of sophistication to his face. But it was those eyes that held me captive. They had a depth that was both mesmerizing and mysterious, like two pools of liquid silver.
“You’rebanished?” he growled and all at once, I was snapped from my mesmerized state.
I nodded. “But my father still needs healing, and you still need the mark, right? So—”
“Get off,” he snapped, shaking his waist a little, as if to try to shake me off.
“No!” I shot back. “We have a horse, we can make good time, and you get your healing credit. Just ride, I can direct you—”
“Get.Off,” he said again, and I reached the point of desperation. The moment I had hoped wouldn’t come had indeed arrived. Reaching down into my boot, I pulled my dagger and in one swift move, I held it against his throat.
He stiffened and looked down at me incredulously.
“No,” I said again, more forcefully this time. “He’s my father. I love him, and I refuse to watch him die!” I felt my composure slip as hot tears burned the edges of my eyes, and Ariyon watched my face with a blank expression.
“You have no idea what I’m capable of, do you?” he said suddenly. Chills ran the length of my entire body. “Of who I am?”
“Wh—what do you mean?”
He looked down at the knife I held to his throat. “If you did, you never would have done that.”
I wasn’t sure if he was just trying to scare me or if he genuinely was capable of great things, but I was willing to die to save my father.
“Do your worst. I would rather die than give up on him.” I held my chin high, the blade pushed to his throat as I dared him.
His eyes narrowed while he studied me. With nostrils flaring, he inhaled, and confusion crossed his face. His brows knotted at the center of his forehead as he cocked his head to the side slightly. “You don’t belong in Isariah,” he said, and now it was my turn to look confused.
I had about two seconds to process that when an ear-splitting sound and headache slammed into me. I hissed, dropping the dagger to grab the sides of my face. A wail left my throat and hot liquid gushed from my nose.
Then, just like that, it was gone. I reached up to touch my nose and came away with blood. Gasping, I looked at Ariyon. “Did—did you just do that to me?”
