“Great,” I say with a stiff nod, wiping my sweaty palms over my hips. “Can I be done now?”
Malrik doesn’t answer right away. The silence stretches long enough that I start to think he’s doing it on purpose—testing how long I’ll stand here before I crack. The energy of the room simmers, like even the magic is waiting for his permission to breathe.
Finally, he exhales through his nose. “For today.”
I don’t realize I’ve been holding my breath until the words release me. My knees go weak, but I steady myself before I drop. The runes beneath us fade to a dull, quiet glow, no longer pulsing in time with my heart.
He moves with the same deliberate calm he always does, crossing to a small table tucked against the wall. There’s a decanter there—one I didn’t notice before, but that’s probably because he just conjured it—and he pours himself a glass of something dark and amber. “You surprise me, Rowan,” he says, swirling the drink without looking at me. “I expected more resistance, but you gave me resolve.”
I wipe a shaking hand across my forehead. “You conjured my mate and told me to kill him. ‘Resistance’ was kind of implied. But I’m glad I impressed you.”
My tone is as dry as the Sahara. He either misses that or just chooses to ignore my sarcasm.
“But at least you survived.” He turns back to me, that faint, infuriating smile curving his mouth.
“Survivedisn’t the word I’d use.” My voice comes out raw as I take a step toward the door. “But sure. I’ll take the pat on the back after the magical beatings. Positive performance reviews are what I live for.”
He swirls his untouched glass. “Even tattered threads can be rewoven into something stronger. Consider this the beginning of your repair.”
I want to laugh, but it comes out more like a broken sound in my throat. “You’re something else, you know that?”
“Yes.” His answer doesn’t hold an ounce of shame. “And now that you’ve taken your first step, you’ll rest. The Keep will see to your needs. Food, water, warmth. You’ve earned it.”
“I didn’t ask for a reward.”
“No.” He tilts his head. “But youneedone. Even a blade must be cooled after being forged, or it cracks.”
I hate that his logic almost makes sense. I hate that I’m too tired to fight it.
The door to the training hall opens soundlessly, a draft curling through the air. Beyond it, the hall glows faintly, waiting for me like a living shadow.
I hesitate. “What happens if I say no to all of this? If I don’t want to do this again tomorrow?”
Malrik’s eyes catch the dim light, turning them to quicksilver. “Then you’ll stay in your room until you change your mind. But I doubt you want to find out what happens here to those who disobey.”
My stomach drops, and I decide not to ask what he means.
Instead, I walk. Every step is heavier than the last, theache in my limbs settling deep in my bones. I don’t look back, but I feel his gaze follow me all the way to the threshold.
When the door closes behind me, the silence presses in, thick and humming. My body feels both hollow and too full, like I’ve been emptied of something vital and replaced with static.
I press my hand to my chest, expecting to feel the beat of my heart. It’s there, but so is something else.
My stomach roils. Is that the essence of Malrik?
Hell, I hope not.
Yet, as I think the words, maybe this is a good thing. Maybe I can beat him at his own game.
I connected to his energy through not-Cade. If I can reach him once, I can do it again. Maybe I can turn Malrik’s power against him. If that’s what my ability is, if unmaking the supernatural is my destiny, then it starts with Malrik.
And just like that… I have a new purpose.
Allow this man to beat me into shape for as long as it takes me to master what’s inside of me.
I can do this. For me. For Cade. For my family.
I can stop whatever nightmare Malrik tried to create through me.
