Snap.
The sound is so loud, but I don’t register that it’s not only coming from him, it’s coming from me. Just like that, he’s snapped the bone in my finger exactly like he did to that tree.
A scream flings out of me, and my knees hit the ground in a plume of dust as I cradle my hand now searing with pain. My father peers down at me without expression while I try not to throw up.
All the spikes have torn from my body, ripping through my shirt, though at least they don’t make me bleed anymore. I look up at him from the ground, shaking in the shock of pain, but I say nothing. Nothing. Because I will not ask. I will not beg.
He lets me stay in that agonizing limbo for several long seconds. Then, he snaps his finger again, making me flinch. But as quick as the noise, the break in my bone is gone. So is the break in the tree. The ones on the ground.
My chest heaves as I look up at him, and he tilts his head, eyes flicking over my face with an indecipherable expression. His eyes drop down and then he grips my chin, his fingers even colder than the power running through my veins. He turns my head to the side roughly. Scrapes the side of my cheek. “Interesting,” he mutters before letting me go. He looks at me with great satisfaction. I don’t like it one bit.
“What?” I ask, bringing my own hand up to scratch the spot that feels oddly itchy. I don’t do it with my tender finger, though. The bone may not be broken any longer, but my nerves are still screaming, letting out ripples of confused pain.
Instead of answering me, he says, “Control. My father taught me, and I will teach you, and you will not fail.”
I swallow hard, but all the rot in my veins has petered out, all the lines in the ground shriveled to nothing.
“Now pull those spikes back in, or I’ll pin them to the estate wall and let you hang there till you learn to control yourself.”
I grit my teeth.
Fist my sore hand.
Feel a line of blood drip from my eyebrow.
I stare at The Breaker, and I hate.
One day, I think to myself. One day, I will break you instead.
But until then, I will learn control.
CHAPTER 26
AUREN
I’m being nudged.
Nudged in the arm while I’m trying to sleep. I don’t want to be nudged while I’m trying to sleep. I say exactly that, but it comes out as a mashed-up grumble while my face is still stuffed against the pillow.
I hear a chuckle in reply, which makes my eyes squint open. Slade is standing beside the bed, his nudging hand nowhere to be found. Smart male.
“Is it night already?” I ask groggily as I stretch my legs out and start to sit up.
“No, it’s about midday.”
My eyes flick over to him just as I set my feet on the ground. “Oh good, I still have time then.” I start to lower myself back down again.
A damn nudging hand at my arm stops me.
“Actually, I’d like you to get up now.”
I stop and look up at him. “For what?”
“Training.”
I frown. “I train with Judd at night.”
His expression is unreadable. “You’re not training with Judd.”
My attention snares, our eyes tangling together. “I’m training with you.” It’s not a question, but his head tips down in a nod nonetheless, while mine shakes. “I can’t yet.”
He arches a brow. “Why not?”
Excuses clog up in the back of my throat like a newly formed dam until I’m running dry. I automatically resist, anxiety sloshing against my internal barrier. But then my determined words come leaking through the cracks to my ear.
The next time someone wants to try and use me, control me, I want to be ready.
That’s what I said to Judd.
I want to master my own strength—physically and magically.
That’s what I told Slade.
I can’t do those things if I don’t learn to control my magic. So I swallow hard, trying to dam up the flooding fear.
“Okay.”
Pride flashes over his face. “Get ready, and then we’ll go.”
Every step I take from the Grotto is made with tightly strung nerves. They’re braided around my bones, twined around my chest, woven so thoroughly throughout my body that every step is stiff with apprehension.
This is my first time being out of the Grotto. My eyes sting as we step out of the cave and into the veiled daylight, my hand a shield above my eyes as I take in the wintry landscape. The mouth of the cave has been shoveled, with the barest scrap of a stone pathway visible below a layer of sand and salt.
“This way.”
I follow Slade out and to the right where we trudge up another shoveled path. Although the storm has broken, the sky is still cloaked with clouds, a slight wind chafing my cheeks. This strip of Deadwell has a shore of flat snowfall and a rising tide of mountains at my right. One of them bends over slightly like a comber wave, and there’s a shelf protruding from its belly, keeping us in perpetual shade.
I tighten my arms around myself, hands buried in my pockets as we travel up a slight incline around the mountain’s base.
“We’re almost there,” he tells me when he notices me starting to breathe harder. “It’s far enough away from everything.”
That gives me some peace of mind, but even so, I’m too nervous about the training to get any real comfort. We could walk to the very peak of this mountain and I’m not sure it would be far enough.
He nudges my arm. “It will be fine, Auren.”
I appreciate the reassurance, but I don’t have the same certainty.
“You saw me in the ballroom,” I say, more harshly than I mean to.
“I did,” he replies. “And it showed me how incredibly powerful and strong you are. Which means you can master it.”
Pressing my lips together, I keep my eyes on my feet, while my anxiety twists and twines.
“Watch your step. The path will be a bit steeper from here.”
The snow is piled higher here, and there is no discernible path, but it’s not as stacked up as it is to the left of us. We only make it a few more paces when someone calls out behind us. “Your Majesty!”
We stop, both of us turning to see a man hurrying forward. He’s wearing a thick coat with a deep fur collar stretching all the way up his throat, and on his arm is a large messenger hawk, its chest dotted with brown and white speckles. “Believe this is for you, Sire.”
The man flicks his gaze to me, eyes widening as he takes me in. I try to give him a smile, but he quickly looks away.
As soon as Slade reaches him, the bird instantly lets out a shrill purr before holding out its leg to him. Slade strokes its neck and then takes the vial from its leg. He unrolls the scroll, eyes flicking back and forth over the paper. He’s turned slightly away from me, but from his profile, I see a frown appear on his brow. I walk over, a sense of unease building in my gut.
“What’s wrong?” I ask when I’m right behind him.
His shoulders tense up, but only for a moment. “Nothing,” he says before he takes the scroll and shoves it into his pocket. He looks back up at the man while giving the bird another pet. “Thanks, Selby.”
“Of course, Your Majesty. What should I do with him?”
“Let him rest in the Perch. I’ve no need for him.”
The man nods and then turns away with the bird in tow, disappearing down the incline.
“Everything okay?” I ask, looking to Slade.
“Of course,” he replies easily. “Shall we?”
He already starts leading the way again before I can say anything more. I hesitate for a moment, and it’s on the tip of my tongue to assuage my curiosity and outright ask what the letter said, but I stop myself when a thought occurs to me.
Do I even have a right to ask him something like that?
Surely he’d have offered up the information about it if he’d wanted me to know. My feelings shouldn’t be hurt that he didn’t.