“Control yourself,” he says steadily, eying me like I’m a bomb about to explode. “I’m going to try learning where Zoey is. Because wherever these creatures took her is the place wheretheyare. And if we know where they are, my people can further investigatewhatthey are. Understood?”
There’s no softness in his words. This is simply a logical step forward. A strategy to solve a problem that’s blocking our way from making the potion to restore his father’s sanity.
“You’re going to try to find Zoey?” I ask, since finding her has always been far less important to him than figuring out how to make the potion.
“We can’t give up this opportunity to learn what and where these winged creatures are,” he repeats. “But if we want this one to talk, you’ll need to control your magic. Okay?”
Unexpected warmth flashes through his eyes, and I take a few deep breaths, grounding myself. It’s gone a second later, but I know it was there.
Despite everything, he still cares.
If he doesn’t… I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from the shame burying itself in my soul.
“Okay,” I say, and I force my air magic down, although it fights me every step of the way.
It wants to be acknowledged. To be free. But I can’t release it. Not when Riven’s trust in me is already shattered, the pieces slipping through my fingers like melted ice.
He nods in approval. Then he kneels in front of the dark angel, reaches forward, and grabs her hand.
Ice creeps up her body like crystalline vines, encasing her body from toe to neck. The frozen prison glistens in the dim light, jagged and beautiful in its deadly precision, although her head remains free. Assumedly so she’ll still be able to talk.
She struggles against her bonds, but they hold firm.
“This will do.” Riven stands, gazing down at her as if she’s an animal in a cruel experiment. “Now, let’s see how far we’ll have to go to get her to reveal the truth.”
