Page 42 of Ravenrose

Gritting my teeth, I dig in harder with the cloth, though I’m careful to avoid touching the wounded skin below. But after several minutes of furious scrubbing, all I have to show for my efforts is more red and raw skin on my wrist.

A shriek of irritation escapes me, and I chuck the cloth as far as I can before pacing the open area of the tent.

What does it mean? What does it do?

A terrifying thought crosses my mind, and I hold out my wrist, glaring down at the small, stubborn mark as an ominous feeling settles over me. It’s a half-sun on one side, a crescent moon on the other, divided by a single dark line, with intricate runic markings etched across it in swirling black ink.

There’s no way.

I take a deep breath, closing my eyes while trying to settle my racing heart. I’m already ill-practiced. Summoning magic when I’m calm and prepared is difficult enough, let alone when I’m freaking the fuck out.

It makes sense. Maintaining control over magic during intense emotions like anger or grief requires real skill and practice, as magic is tied to them. But I try anyway. Even angry or tired, I can always at least sense it. It’s always right there, just under the surface—waiting.

I sigh with relief when I feel the magic deep inside me; its warmth is comforting to my chilled body. I wish I could wrap myself inside it like a warm blanket of protection.

My relief is short-lived, however, because when I try to summon it, it rises to meet my call but… it cannot leave. Power simmers anxiously just underneath my skin as if trapped there.

I gasp, and my hand goes to the rune at my wrist; it’s burning. The dark mark only grows hotter and hotter the harder I try to push my power out.

Stunned, I loosen my grip on my magic, letting it go, and the black ink instantly cools against my skin.

To say I’m shocked is an understatement.

Humans don’t have magic. Though I guess runes don’t exactly count as magic. Not really… It’s a lost art, like all the other magics forgotten over the years since they largely serve no purpose. Runes aren’t supposed to be powerful.

But this one…

I push my power again, harder this time, hissing as the rune burns once again. Harder and harder I try, tears streaming from my eyes from the searing pain, but it’s no use. I release the power, giving up.

I might not know how to use it, but I know my power is right on par with Fel’s.

And if this little dark mark can contain it…

I feel sick.

All the runes I’ve ever heard of are for protection—weak protection at that. Most of them were used for protection against demons—who haven’t been a threat for generations. I certainly would have remembered learning about a rune that could do this.

Panic surges inside me, unraveling quickly as the walls close in.

Shaking my head, I back up until I hit the pole I’ve spent the last several hours tied to. Scrambling away from it, I trip, then crawl behind the chair, thankful for its protection. I bring up my knees, curling into a ball as I hug them tight to my chest. Tears leak down my cheeks.

Stars, I wish Riven were here to tell me what to do.

More tears fall following the stabbing pain in my chest when my twin’s face enters my mind.

Light, Ro. Get yourself together. This is pathetic, is probably what Riven would say.

Solemnly, I nod, wiping the tears from my eyes and face. I have two choices: I can stay here and wait around to find out what Ayer wants from his new faerie pet, or… I can try to make a run for it.

The captain’s warning echoes through my mind, but I shove it away.

It’s the middle of the night; half the camp is asleep. If there ever was a chance—it’s now. I refuse to be a pawn in this game of kings. In Kovaria’s hands, I’m nothing but a weapon they can use against my brothers, my father, or my entire kingdom if they play their cards right.

Even so, I hesitate, lingering by the tent’s entrance.

Ayer was right about one thing: there are worse things than death. And after that little visit from Riggs and Nash, I have some idea what those things might be.

I know hatred for the fae runs deep in humans, particularly within the Kingdom of Kovaria, despite never setting foot there myself.