She ignored him, looking up into Trey’s brown eyes. She was so terrified of losing her only friend, she couldn’t even form words. She feared his rejection more than she wanted to admit, but Trey gave her an encouraging smile as if her unvoiced question was painted on her forehead.
“I figured it out when you aggressively stole my sword.”
“Was it the growl?”
“It was definitely the growl.”
She laughed, tension leaving her body like a tidal wave. It jarred her side and dizziness threatened to knock her out, but she shook her head and concentrated on the Magyki.
His frustrated expression had her sighing, tempted to roll her eyes again. “No, Green Eyes, I don’t know anything. My mentor was not lax with my education, but for my safety, he did not allow me books about Bhasura. I was encouraged to push the limits of my strength and speed, but heritage-wise, that was it. The less I knew the better.”
His expression turned thunderous. “Were those his words, or yours?”
“Both. Although, I no longer believe it.”
He was quiet, contemplating what she’d admitted. “Jaren Barilias.”
Her body snapped to attention. “What?” The only part of her that dared to move was her heart as it pounded rapidly in her chest.
“A aprenza.”
Something knocked at the walls of her mind. A memory, barely more than a fuzzy photograph in her mind’s eye, attempted to surface. That name. She knew that name. She tried to dig it out, but the more she grappled with the memory, the faster it disappeared.
His head tilted to the side, brows raised, and she realized she’d spent several moments gawking at him. Mentally chastising herself for acting like a fool, she let the sense of familiarity fade to the back of her mind. She’d probably just heard a similar name once.
He seemed to be waiting for her to return the favor, and she fidgeted. Her thoughts raced over what the emperor had said about the rebellion and her family’s deaths. She didn’t know where Jaren stood, or who his loyalties were to. She needed to be careful.
“Varian Lesta.”
“That’s not your name.”
She shrugged, “It’s one of them.”
He glanced away from her, and she swore she saw disappointment flicker over his face. “If you expect me to be honest, I would like the same from you.”
“Let me ask you this, Jaren.” His eyes snapped to hers, heat flaring in their depths. “I was told Bhasura suffered major casualties when a rebellion took arms and murdered Queen Vaneara and most of the noble families. Is that true?”
Eyes narrowed; he gave a short nod. “That is a crude summary of the events that occurred, but yes.”
“Then I’m sorry, but I don’t trust you enough to give you any other name. But if it means anything, I’m not lying. I almost always go by Varian outside the armory walls.”
Jaren’s eyes roved over her face and down her body at her answer, as if desperately trying to unravel her secrets. She knew her answer had given away a hint about who she might be, but he didn’t push for more.
“No. Fucking. Way.”
She almost jumped out of her skin. Both she and Jaren turned to Trey, her in confusion and he in irritation. He was staring at her with the biggest smile she’d ever seen before he burst out laughing.
“Varian.” He said when he caught his breath, “You’re Varian? You’re the toothpick who knocked Prince Eithan on his ass?”
“He told you?”
Trey’s smile didn’t waver. If anything, it grew. “No. Jensen did. Said it was the best thing he’d ever seen.”
“Jensen?” she asked, brows crinkling.
“Brex Jensen? You had to have seen him. He’s been training under Lesta for years. Giant of a man with hands the size of your head.”
She sat up straighter. “You mean Boulder Shoulders? I didn’t even know he talked.”
“I’ve known him my whole life. We practically grew up together. He definitely talks. And he wasn’t the only one that night. Damn. You know, I think you just became my new best friend.”
Vera’s heart burst with his words, his acceptance almost too much to bear. Closing her eyes briefly against the sting of her unshed tears, she shook her head. The action made her sway, and Jaren reached forward and gripped her arm.
“Thyip.” Focus.
It seemed someone didn’t appreciate it when she failed to give him her undivided attention. Vera honestly didn’t really care, but she decided not to snap back and listened. They needed to move and that meant she needed to heal.
“Fine. What did you mean about me being able to heal myself?”
“You have the blessing of the Gods running through your blood, just as every Magyki does, but it is not fully unlocked yet.”
More like stolen from the Gods, but she didn’t say that. “How can you tell I’m not…unlocked?”
“Your appearance. We are born possessing remnants of power through our bloodlines, but besides minor physical differences, we still resemble humans.”
His eyes flickered to her ears. “Fully unlocked Magyki have traits like mine and can no longer easily pass for human, whereas, even if your ears hadn’t been mutilated, you still could.”
She nodded, storing the information away. It was unreal to finally have the chance to learn about herself and her people.
Jaren continued, “For now, you should still be able to tap into a small portion of power.”
“Is this so-called power the reason why I always seem to be able to see and smell you when no one else notices you?” The corner of his lips twitched, and she figured she probably could have kept the whole smelling him part to herself.
“Even locked, your natural senses are superior to humans,” he couldn’t have looked more smug if he tried. “And you can also self-heal small injuries. You won’t be able to fully heal like I can yet, but you should be able to recover from your blood loss.”
“How?”
“Meditation.”
Vera tried, she really tried not to glare at him. “Lovely. So can you maybe explain how I meditate the blood back into my body?”
“Do you trust me?”
“No.” Her response was instant, but instead of seeming angry, he almost looked like he was holding back a smile.
“I meant, do you trust me in this instance?” He asked, and she noticed his hand was still gripping her arm from when he’d steadied her.
“In this instance, and only this instance, yes.”
Jaren looked at Trey, his expression fierce. “Back up, Matherin.”
When he didn’t move, Vera gestured at him to listen. He sighed, taking several steps back before planting his feet, arms crossed.
“If you succeed, it will not hurt, but it won’t exactly feel comfortable either. It will be similar to feeling uncharacteristically warm.”
His green eyes locked on hers as the hand on her arm moved across her breast to rest over her heart. His palm was hot against her chest, and his lips tightened into a thin line.
“Close your eyes, steady your breathing, and focus on your heartbeats until you can feel each beat individually as they pump blood throughout your body.”