He stalled, tilting his head, scrounging every detail of her face, the tears streaming down her cheeks. Running a hand through his hair he whispered, “You’re right.” He stepped closer, and she radiated light.
“I am more.” He felt that power stir in him. Stepping even closer, he drawled, “You could have been as well.” Fear sparked in her eyes as blood drained from her face, and she lunged toward him, trying to latch on, to drain him of his ability. He had always been faster. She crumpled as he slashed through her defenses, shutting them down and knocking her unconscious. Licking his cracked lips, he whispered down to her still form, “I’m sorry.” Without looking back, he continued down the hallway, leaving her behind.
The light flared and exploded, like thousands of his own personal constellations, the smooth edges of the captured light forming hundreds of orbs, glistening like polished emeralds. It stole his breath as they parted, forming his own personal walkway, and as he passed, they ebbed, dying slowly. His heart pounded, and he could practically feel the heaviness seeping through his bloodstream, curdling him until he was only the darkness trapped within him. That had marked him. He reached the heavy doorway and pulled the handle. It swept inward seamlessly, unlocked because he didn’t realize the room was already occupied. Roque looked up, startled and wide-eyed as he looked at Adair, bewildered.
Shutting the door quickly behind him, he didn’t miss a beat. “Sorry for the interruption, your highness. I was hoping we could talk?”
Sighing, he murmured, “Please, Adair, come in. And don’t worry about the titles. I doubt by this point there is much of a country left that will recognize me as their highness.”
His adrenaline stirred as he took a seat, trying not to stare at the pulsing wall behind them, practically screaming out to him. Shutting the door, he whispered, “Oh, really?”
Roque hunched over the map, his eyes roaming frantically, as he whispered to himself, “We need time to reunite the borders, before heading into another war.”
Swallowing hard, Adair felt that familiar tug of his ability climbing through him. “My father won’t grant any more time than what we have already had.” Roque raised his gaze, focusing in on him. He smiled, his voice surprisingly soft. “The time to act is now.” Everything shattered through him. Gripping Roque’s forearm, the King of Kiero was frozen, his mouth gaping noiselessly as Adair rampaged everything he was. He had always imagined what breaking into a desolate’s body would be like. It was a sick fascination he had. His ability was what made him feel strong first and his character followed. As his grip tightened and his talons ripped and shredded through Roque’s memories, it was like he was the siren and Roque was sailing toward his deadly rocky shore, frozen and entranced. Years flickered through his mind, bright and sharp. He shifted quickly until he found what he was looking for. The memory lurched through him.
Nei clutched his arm as he slammed into the wall, breaking through. “Roque, can you just listen to me for a second?”
He panted, thrusting the weathered book in front of her. “You want to discuss leisurely while you know exactly what is in these pages now?”
She tenderly rested her hand on his arm. “We cannot have it here. The world of Daer has betrayed us. This time, we must do something. Instead of hiding the artifact, let’s destroy it.”
Roque choked a laugh. “How, Nei, do we begin to explain that we have formed a secret organization under the nose of an entire country? An organization that has crafted possibly the most powerful weapon in the world, by accident! And then begin to explain that Damien Foster has made treaties with worlds that we only know about? It sounds insane. Illegal and insane.”
She growled. “The world is defined by a lot of things. Magic. Power. Love. Status. But it is the people who shape it. It once sounded insane for me to marry a pompous prince who I thought knew nothing about sacrifice. You proved me wrong. Now do the same for me. Prove that you aren’t acting out of fear.”
His hands shook, stalling. He looked up, his eyes filled with sorrow, and he whispered, “No. It will stay here, hidden until the time is right. No one will know. Not even Cesan and Bresslin.”
Nei’s face darkened, her light demeanor vanishing. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she said nothing as the wall crumpled and Roque started burying the book within the walls.
He was slammed back into the present time, staring at Roque Fae. Heat flushed over his entire body as his grip tightened. “What did you do?” Roque paled as Adair pinned his ability sharper and deeper. His pulse raced faster and faster as he growled. “What is in the book?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Roque rasped, his lips starting to turn blue, his skin graying with every second.
He seethed. “I highly doubt that.” And he slipped from his body.
When Adair used his ability, usually it was like circling around the consciousness, assessing his obstacles, and then landing the blows where he wanted. This was striking with his will, and he gripped every nerve, every ounce of the king’s physical anatomy, until he commanded all of it. It was like snuffing out a candle, backing the other soul into a corner and keeping it in check. They moved as one toward the wall, and looking through Roque’s eyes, he could see the light calling them. Calling him. He moved, Roque’s memories telling him that it was surrounded by magic, shielded by it. Created by the professors, out of their loyalty came no questions. They moved, and the wall transformed for the only person it would. Roque. Gold-infused pillars appeared before them like smoke, shimmering but not fully solid. Not fully real. In between them, a small shelf was created, and an ordinary weathered book lay in
