“Listen, whatever you’re going through, whatever this is, just talk to me, Adair. This isn’t you. I want my best friend back. I need him back. Please.” Her chin wobbled, her eyes brimming, and she reached out to take his hand. “I know what the other students say. I know what you have heard. You aren’t like your father, Adair. You are so much more.”
He stalled, tilting his head, searching every detail of her face, noticing 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. “You could have been as well.”
Fear sparked in her eyes as every ounce of her blood drained from her face, and she lunged at him, trying to latch on, to drain him of his ability. He had always been faster. Emory crumpled as he slashed through her defenses, shutting them down and knocking her unconscious. Gently lowering her body, licking his cracked lips, he whispered down to her still form, “I’m sorry.”
Adair 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 away when they parted, forming his own personal walkway, and as he passed, they ebbed, dying slowly. His heart was pounding, 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.
Reaching the heavy doorway, he turned the handle. It swept inward seamlessly. Roque looked up, startled and wide-eyed, as he looked at Adair, bewildered.
Shutting the door quickly behind him, Adair didn’t miss a beat. “Sorry for the interruption, Your Highness. I was hoping we could talk?”
Sighing, Roque 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, and he took a seat, trying not to stare at the pulsing wall behind Roque, practically screaming out to Adair. “Oh, really?”
Roque barely heard him, his focus on the map laid before him. His eyes roamed frantically, as he whispered to himself, “We need more time to reunite the borders with the Risco Desert and the raiders there before heading into another war. The North is our only ally with Sarthaven fallen.”
Adair swallowed hard, feeling 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, squinting at Adair. He smiled, his voice surprisingly soft as he said, “The time to act is now.”
A hunger engulfed Adair so fiercely he didn’t have time to act before his ability 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 Adair found what he was looking for. The memory lurched through him.
Nei clutched his arm as he slammed the hammer into the concrete and brick wall, “Roque, can you just listen to me for a second?”
Roque paused, thrusting the weathered book into her grasp. “What is there to talk about, Nei? I should have never made this secret society in the first place. I thought I was protecting Kiero in keeping the secret that there are other worlds connected to ours. I thought I was ensuring peace by creating the Original Six, by meeting with each world leader to negotiate politics. Now, I have helped create the one thing that could end us all.”
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 out a laugh. “How, Nei, do we begin to explain that Damien Foster has made treaties of peace with these worlds under our command? It sounds insane. Illegal, and insane.”
She rebuttaled, “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, then he looked up; his eyes filled with sorrow. “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.
Adair was slammed back into the present, 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 deep. His pulse raced faster and faster as he demanded, “What is in the book?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Roque rasped, his lips starting to turn blue, his skin greying with every second.
“I highly doubt that,” Adair said, then slipped from his body.
When he used his ability, usually it was like circling around the consciousness before assessing his obstacles, and then he would land the blows where he wanted. This was striking with his will, and he gripped every
