Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
MORGANA
I held a glass so frail, I thought it might break between my gentle grasp. The liquid inside it was orange like a sunset, sparkling flecks dancing around it as if it were fish to a pond. A thin sheen of sweat coated my brow, and I took a deep breath. Aster, however, was unbothered. He wiped his forehead with a cloth, but he wasn’t nearly as sticky as I was.
“Poisoning me already?” I muttered.
Aster chuckled, a dry sound that held no true mirth. “If I wanted you dead, little dove, there are far less elaborate ways to achieve it.” His tone was laced with a hint of sarcasm, but his crimson eyes held mine steadily—a silent challenge.
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Forgive me if I don’t trust your definition of elaborate when it comes to getting rid of me.”
He inclined his head slightly before gesturing to the glass in my hand “What you hold is not poison, but a concoction designed to enhance your abilities. We will slowly introduce each one into your system.”
His tone was neutral, but my heart raced. I fought for my own survival with Galen for years as we struggled to make it in the streets, but the idea of our training turning lethal? My cheeks were already hot, but they burned like the greatest depths of every known realm of hell. Aster cocked his head, took a step closer, and reached around me. His presence made me halt, stiffen, and even flinch, but glass clattered against the table as I pressed as far against the frame as I could. He brought a similar glass of liquid to eye level, swirling around the potion idly.
“It will allow you to sense your surroundings more keenly, both magical and mundane. Perhaps you’ll wield your magic with greater control, in the end.”
He spoke of magic as if it were a sentient thing. I gulped, my throat dry from nerves I had grown accustomed to ignoring.
I watched as Aster raised his glass to his lips, his gaze never leaving mine. With a quick jerk of his head, he drank the potion. I knew that this training was crucial, not only for unlocking my own potential but also for unraveling the unfortunate mysteries that bound us together. I was no fool—I’d bet all the coin I had that Aster knew more than he was letting on, but I’d find my answers soon enough.
Summoning my resolve, I lifted the glass to my mouth and took a hesitant sip. I shuddered as the liquid touched my tongue, a sharp bitterness exploding on my taste buds. With each swallow, a surge of energy coursed through my body. The once-dull colors around me now seemed vibrant and alive, and every sound was heightened to an intense level. There was this newfound power humming beneath my skin, pulsating with each beat of my heart.
Aster observed me intently, as if piercing through me in search of any hint of weakness. I straightened my posture. He reached for the glass, our fingers brushing against one another so delicately it ought to not have happened at all. But the second our skin made contact, I felt the hammering beat of his heart against his chest and the warmth of his skin that reminded me he was, indeed, more man than he was monster. My eyes darted to the shadows that swirled across his skin like spilled raven ink, trying to memorize the way it colored his fingers entirely before valleys of white skin poked through. As the marks disappeared underneath his sleeve, I wondered how badly his body was laced with such a terrible omen. He was marked by the plague he and his family had fought for centuries—yet I couldn’t find myself sympathizing with him.
I found myself obsessed by the mystery surrounding his fate. Obsessed about his inevitable death, what little I knew of it. More than anything, I was obsessed with understanding whether I would face such fate, if our magic was really one in the same.
Aster withdrew his hand. The unspoken question lingered between us, of whether our intertwined destinies would lead to salvation or destruction. The effects of the potion fully took hold, and a surge of power unlike anything I had ever experienced coursed through me.
I felt as though my senses sharpened to a razor’s edge. The world around me seemed to slow down, each detail becoming vivid and pronounced, as if I could see beyond the physical realm into something deeper and more profound.
Aster’s voice sliced through the charged atmosphere, each word a warning. “Now, Morgana, comes the true test of your abilities,” he murmured, his tone as unfathomable as the depths of the ocean. “You will traverse the balance beam with your heightened senses, attuned to the whispers of magic that scream within your veins.”
Sure. Easy enough.
Aster smirked, as if he could read my thoughts, and aimed toward the beam that traversed the width of the fountain. “I will unleash bits of untamed magic that will seek to distract and sabotage you. Your task is not only to reach the other end, but to do so with unwavering focus and control.”
As he spoke, tendrils of shadowy energy began to slink from his fingertips, twining themselves around the courtyard like sentient serpents. It was in that moment that I realized why he wasn’t wearing those infamous gloves I’d grown accustomed to.
With a silent nod, I approached the fountain and embarked on the narrow balance beam, my every step an act of defiance against the shadows that slithered around me. The surface was slick beneath my boots, the sound of trickling water from the fountain below disorienting me. I fixated on the thin beam, barely wide enough to support the sole of my boot. This potion did wonders for my agility, but it did horrors to my focus. Every negligible thing was warring for my attention.
Aster’s magic coiled and hissed. Shadows flickered at the corner of my vision, whispering tantalizing promises and dreadful warnings. I pushed them aside, focusing on the task at hand, on each breath that filled my burning lungs. I could feel my own heartbeat like a drum against bone—a clap of thunder against the dead of night.
Aster’s glare bored into me, his silent scrutiny a weight on my back as I walked the precarious path. The air crackled with latent energy, a heady mix of power and danger that thrummed in harmony with my own heartbeat. As I neared the halfway point, a surge of dark magic lashed out, seeking to knock me off balance. I stumbled but regained my footing, my muscles straining to maintain control. The shadows swirled with renewed fervor, their whispers growing louder and more insidious. Doubt crept into my mind like a slithering viper, threatening to unravel the fragile thread of concentration I had woven around myself.
Aster came into view at the other end of the balancing beam. He had his hands clasped behind his back, but the shadowy magic expanded behind him like beautiful, misty wings. The evil of it was haunting, but the allure to it was undeniable. I sought to tear my gaze from him, but this dreaded potion had taken hold. I was enamored by the way his magic coexisted with him, by the terrible, frightening power his mere existence held.
I took a step forward and his smile grew wider. His shadows bolder. Their tendrils reached out like grasping claws. I ducked and weaved, my movements fluid and precise as I clung onto what little balance I could manage.
One misstep. One moment of hesitation. That was all it took for Aster’s magic to strike again, a vicious surge. The shadows rallied toward me, coiling around my legs, striving to pull me down into the fountain below.
I fought against the suffocating grip of his magic, my nails digging into the wood of the beam after I was forced down, my legs dangling just an inch over the water.
But it was a losing battle.
With a sickening lurch, I tilted backward, gravity pulling me toward the shallow water below.
The impact was jarring, sending a shock wave of pain through my body as I crashed into the pool with a resounding splash. Water sprayed around me, mingling with the lingering tendrils of magic that still clung onto me. I spat water from my mouth, my eyes crossing as I tried to focus on the sky above. The air was dry against my throat as I gasped.
Aster’s laughter echoed through the courtyard, a chilling sound that sent shivers down my spine even as I struggled to rise from the pool. His crimson eyes glinted with amusement and a hint of something darker—a predatory gleam of sorts.
My clothes were heavy and clung to my skin in ways they hadn’t before I fell into the water. I could feel the lingering effects of his magic tugging at me like invisible chains. Every movement was an effort, every breath laden with the taste of defeat, but beneath the surface of my exhaustion simmered a steely resolve.
Aster did the unthinkable. He stepped over the barrier of the fountain, shoes and all, and walked through the shallow water over to me. His expression was unreadable as he extended a hand toward me. I accepted it but didn’t stand as I focused on the way his cool touch contrasted with the heat that radiated off him in waves.
Rage was all-consuming, but the kind gesture was almost enough to make me push it aside.
Almost.
I knew better than to trust his facade, to believe in the false pretense of camaraderie. The echo of his laughter still reverberated in my mind, a reminder of his cruel amusement at my downfall.
I couldn’t forget the pain that coursed through me as a result of his manipulative magic.
With a defiant glare, I pulled. As hard as I could. I yanked him into the water and watched him stumble forward. I took this moment to stand, half-crouched, and relished the way his surprise colored him red. His expression hardened and he regained his footing quickly, the water sloshing around him as he straightened up to his full height. Droplets cascaded down his dark hair, clinging to his skin like liquid jewels, but there was no hint of playfulness in his demeanor now.
“You dare,” Aster’s voice was low, a dangerous undercurrent underscoring his words as he took a step closer to me. The shadows seemed to writhe and pulse around him. Despite the water weighing down my clothes and the ache that lingered in my limbs, I refused to back down, meeting his intense glare with a level of defiance all my own.
“I do,” I replied, my voice laced like poison. My fingers twitched, and I bared my teeth. “I dare.”
Challenge passed between us. I could see the conflict warring within him, the struggle between hatred and desire etched across his features.
His hand, like mine, twitched, a flicker of movement I’d never miss. I braced myself for whatever retaliation he might unleash.
For a fleeting moment, I glimpsed something raw and vulnerable in his eyes, a crack in the armor he wore so effortlessly. It was gone as quickly as it appeared.
With intent, Aster took another step forward, closing the distance between us. At first, I wasn’t sure if he was going to strike at me, kiss me, or push beyond me toward the palace doors so he could dry off. Instead, he grabbed hold of my chin—delicate yet cruel; caring yet cold—and spoke so his breath brushed across the tip of my nose. “Lesson one, Morgana. You should not break the hand that helps you.”
His touch was a paradox. His intensity held me captive, a dare passing between us as I stood my ground, refusing to cower beneath him. Despite the chill of the water seeping into my bones, a fire raged within me—a spark that refused to be extinguished by his cryptic threat.
“Lesson two, Aster,” I countered, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins. “Help offered with hidden motivation is no help at all.”
A flicker of surprise crossed his features before settling back into enigmatic indifference. His hold on my chin tightened. “You think yourself clever, Morgana,” he murmured. “But you have yet to learn the true extent of the game we are playing.”
“And what game is that?”
The tip of his nose brushed mine as he said, “Death.”
The word lingered between us, a dark omen that sent a shiver down my spine. Death was a constant companion in my line of work, a specter that haunted every shadow and whispered its chilling promises in the dead of night. But Aster’s mention of it felt different, more personal, as if the threads of fate had woven us together in a dance that could only end in bloodshed.
I refused to let his words intimidate me, straightening my spine. “If death is the game you wish to play, then let us dance,” I retorted, my voice cutting through like a blade.
His eyes darkened at my challenge. The weight of his scrutiny bore down on me, but he yanked his hand away and fled from his spot in front of me within seconds. I gasped, the chill of his absence enough to set me off balance. I twisted around, watching as he lifted his heavy legs, soaked through his pants to the bone, inching closer to the wall of the fountain. I shrieked in frustration, pushing forward with rage, and chased after him.
I wasn’t sure how I moved so fast, as if there wasn’t water slowing me down, but I made it to him before he had turned fully to acknowledge my haste and tackled him to the ground. It was illogical—it was out of anger and nothing else—but I straddled him and pressed my hands against his shoulders, pinning him beneath me. I could feel the heat of his skin through the damp fabric of his shirt, a stark contrast to the icy water that still clung to us both. I balled a fist and readied it to slam against his chest, but I hesitated.
The water was up to his chin but no higher. Gods, part of me wished it was deeper.
“Mother will kill you once she sees what you’ve done to my nose,” Galen muttered against the cloth pressed to his nose. My lip puckered, and I shook my head wildly.
“I’m sorry, brother,” I whispered. “I don’t know what came over me. I don’t ? —”
Galen grabbed my wrist and pulled it away, shaking his head and sniffling. “Don’t ever say sorry for sticking up for yourself. I’ll bleed and bruise, but tomorrow will be a new day. Just, please, aim away from the face the next time I anger you.”
I blinked away the reverie. I blinked so many times I wasn’t sure if I was trying to wake myself from a terrible dream.
Aster’s hands hovered in the air, unsure whether to push me away or pull me closer. Our gazes locked, our bodies tense with unspoken emotions and unfulfilled longings.
I let my balled fist fall onto his chest gently, standing up in a swift motion and storming off. I cleared the wall of the fountain, my wet pant legs flopping against the stone as I rushed toward the palace doors. I didn’t quite care if Prince Aster had more training in store for me. No, not with the tears beading across my eyes as I navigated through the wretched palace walls in search of the chambers he’d given me.
Anabel, who’d just turned a corner with linens folded in her arms, took one wide-eyed look at me before gasping. “Lady Kyllingham, do you require?—”
I almost rushed past her in an attempt to find what I sought—peace and quiet—but I halted abruptly and twisted to her. I wasn’t used to relying on others like this. I’d been on my own for the greater length of a decade, save for the times Galen had saved me time and time again, but having someone make my bed? Cook me food? No, that wasn’t a life I was accustomed to.
So I cut her off with a simple, “I need dry clothes and a friend.” I watched Anabel’s mouth clamp shut, taken aback by my crude tone. I took a desperate step closer and frowned. “Can you help me with that?”
Anabel nodded once, twisting around before grabbing my wrist and dragging me the way she came.