“You did what you had to do,” Jason said deliberately. “You were amazing.”
Bubbles of hysteria threatened to emerge. There had been nothing amazing about anything that had happened in the Arena today. Not the death and injury that others had wrought and certainly not anything she’d done. Owen and Eric had taken a life in the Arena, and she’d sought catharsis in dealing out pain to them. But all she felt was—nothing.
What kind of monster felt nothing at all?
Jason gripped her wrists, his fingers biting into her flesh. She blinked away a grimace of pain. “You’re hurting me,” she said slowly.
“That’s my intention,” he replied, his voice measured and controlled.
“Why?” Allyra asked, with equal control.
“Because I want you to hear me.”
“I’m not deaf.”
“No,” he agreed. “But you are stubborn, and I need you to hear me, to understand me when I tell you that there is nothing wrong with you.”
“Nothing,” he repeated. “Embrace your Gift, Allyra—it’s a part of you, and to deny it would be to deny the truth.”
She let out a bitter and painful laugh. “The truth being that I’m a monster. One that rains death upon everything and everyone I touch.”
Jason shook his head. “No. Don’t ever think that. Don’t ever believe it,” he said, pausing as he searched for the right words. “You just—are. Powerfully Gifted, and so much stronger than you’ll ever know. I can see it burning so brightly within you, and I can’t understand how you don’t see it too. It lights you up and brings you to life—surely, you can feel it?”
And she could. But she wanted to deny it. To deny the monster running wild within her.
It burned like lava through her veins—power, so much of it. It called to her and terrified her. Because yes, she loved the feel of it coursing through her. To embrace it would be to dance toward the darkness, diving deeper into the world of the Gifted and all the horrors hidden beneath its gilded surface. But perhaps the truth was less the girl she had been and more the girl she was becoming. Perhaps, like her Gift, the darkness had always been within her, hiding below the surface, waiting patiently for the day that she’d come to embrace it. Perhaps today was that day.
Allyra raised her eyes to Jason’s, and within him, she saw everything she once feared, everything she now craved. Danger, darkness, excitement—it sent a thrill racing up her spine.
She smiled.
Jason’s smile in return was exuberant and exhilarated. He released her wrists and picked up an ice pack, pressing it gently to her right cheek.
“We have to work on your defenses,” he said wryly.
She winced. Her knuckles weren’t the only things broken within the Arena—Owen had managed to land a blow that broke her cheekbone. The swelling had already begun, and she’d be lucky if she could see out her right eye by tomorrow.
“My defenses are just fine, thank you very much,” she retorted. “You know as well as I do that there was no way I’d get past Owen without taking a few hits.”
“I didn’t have to take any hits,” Jason said.
“Right…” Allyra said doubtfully. “I suppose that’s why you’re favoring your left side.”
He shrugged, refusing to acknowledge the truth in her words, and she took the opportunity to jab him in his ribs. She grinned as he left out a harsh grunt of pain. “Ice pack?” she offered sarcastically.
He narrowed his eyes at her but took the ice pack and pressed it to his ribs. He grinned suddenly. “We’re going to win this thing,” he said.
Allyra nodded. “Yes,” she agreed. “Yes, we are.”
Chapter 28 – Allyra
Allyra stared at the apple Jason was holding out to her. It was a deep, dark red, polished and rounded. She could imagine its weight in her hand, the crisp bite of it, the sweet and tangy taste of it. It was perfect, and somehow, the very sight of it filled her with anxiety.
“Please take it,” Jason said with bemused frustration.
She reached out for it and then snatched her hand back with a grimace. “I don’t know.”
“Allyra…”
“I know, I know. But the migraine from yesterday hasn’t completely dissipated yet, and I want to be at my best before trying again,” she said, almost convincing herself it was true.
“Stop making excuses,” Jason retorted. “You’re going to have to learn how to Evanesce at some point. You know what they say—practice makes perfect.”
“Except every practice makes me feel intense pain, and the more I fail, the less I want to try again. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, an endless cycle of pain, an infinite plain of failure.”
Jason sighed and took a bite out the apple she was supposed to Evanesce.
“Well, that doesn’t help,” she said sarcastically.
“I got hungry waiting,” Jason replied, taking another bite. He chewed thoughtfully and then swallowed. “Look, the more you agonize over this, the worse it gets. You should just go for it, in the knowledge that you already know how.”
“How do you figure that?”
“You crossed into the Between and then came back. Evanesce is only a shadow of what it takes to cross through the Gate. So, if you can do that, then you can definitely Evanesce. Simple, really.”
She looked at him doubtfully.
