Chapter 34 #2
I'd managed to break six bones.
After another wave of pain tore through my body, Tarven finally lost patience and contacted one of the Strongest Twelve—Dilraba.
Her gift was extraordinary.
Teleportation.
A rare ability that couldn't be learned or acquired through training.
Either you were born with it—
or you weren't.
She and Miloran had appeared in the guest room where I lay unconscious while Rosalie's magic continued breaking my bones from the inside out.
The next thing I remembered was opening my eyes on an infirmary cot.
Miloran was sitting on the one beside mine.
He informed me that Tarven, Rosalie, Dilraba, and Draksen were currently in a meeting.
As always, Miloran looked perfectly calm.
Almost bored.
“Only the fracture in her leg is left,” Cyant exhaled.
“Great. I had faith in you.”
Miloran spoke without looking up, casually scraping dirt from the sole of his boot with a dagger.
Bits of dirt scattered across the spotless floor.
He didn't seem remotely concerned.
Ignoring him entirely, Sulfur met my gaze.
His lips were pressed into a thin line.
Tense.
“This is going to hurt.”
“And we'll need help,” Cyant added, glancing toward Miloran.
For the first time, Miloran looked up.
“You'll need to hold her down,” Cyant explained.
A brief pause followed.
“When bones knit back together, some patients experience convulsions. If she moves too much, the healing magic could react unpredictably.”
“Can't you just tie her to the cot?” Miloran asked.
I rolled my eyes immediately.
“Are you afraid to touch me?” I asked, meeting those unnervingly clear eyes.
He shrugged.
“If Tarven decides to punch me afterward, then yes. Absolutely.”
To my utter horror, something warm fluttered in my chest.
Had Tarven actually made it that obvious he cared about me?
“Miloran, we're wasting valuable time,” Cyant snapped.
With an exaggerated sigh, Miloran finally rose from his chair and slid the dagger back into its sheath.
Then he stopped.
Staring at me.
“Should I close my eyes so I don't embarrass you?” I asked with a deliberately sweet smile.
“You can.”
He nodded.
I clicked my tongue.
But closed them anyway.
That man was made entirely of contradictions.
Every part of him.
The first time you met him, he felt like frostbite.
A few conversations later, your entire impression of him changed.
“Begin,” Miloran said.
I couldn't feel his hands.
Maybe he wasn't touching me at all.
Maybe he was simply waiting for the convulsions to start.
“Relax, Anastasia,” Sulfur instructed.
“She prefers Stasia.”
Miloran's voice cut in.
Then—
Agony.
My body nearly launched off the cot.
But Miloran's grip stopped me instantly.
Tears sprang to my eyes.
“After each spike of pain, try to relax for a few seconds,” Sulfur said. “The magic can't work properly if it encounters resistance.”
Easy for him to say.
“Take a deep breath after every wave.”
Miloran's voice sounded distant.
“In. Then out.”
Without looking at him, I nodded.
I followed his instructions.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Every wave felt impossible to survive.
By the fourth, I was ready to beg them to stop.
To leave the fractures exactly where they were.
I was far too sensitive to belong among the strongest students.
Honestly, I had no idea how I'd ended up there in the first place.
“It's done.”
The first thing I noticed was Miloran stepping away.
Opening my eyes, I carefully pushed myself upright with Cyant's help.
“You'll have some trouble moving around on your own for the first few minutes,” Sulfur warned.
As I glanced down at my legs, something else caught my attention.
The bracelets.
The ones suppressing my magic.
They were gone.
I looked at the healers.
Confused.
Miloran answered before either of them could.
“The preparations for the Selection have begun.”
I fell silent.
Not because I lacked thoughts.
Because there were far too many of them.
Too many to choose from.
“So?” Tarven's voice echoed through the room before he'd even crossed half the distance to us. “How is she?”
Our eyes met.
And he smiled.
Bright.
Relieved.
Almost ridiculously happy.
I still wasn't sure how to react.
Everything felt unreal.
“Stasia is fine,” Sulfur replied. “We managed to heal all the fractures.”
“Excellent.”
Tarven stepped closer.
Though, notably, he didn't touch me.
Instead, he planted his hands on his hips and announced with that same satisfied grin:
“Draksen accepted Rosalie into the Academy.”
I froze.
And had I been smiling—
the smile would've vanished instantly.
Seeing Miloran waiting outside our door usually meant trouble.
My body tensed instantly.
Still, I forced on my usual carefree smile and pretended nothing was wrong.
“Miloran? What are you doing here?” Ria asked first.
Her questioning gaze flicked toward me, and I immediately shrugged.
Then it hit me.
“Wait. Did you become Gia's mentor?”
Our eyes met.
“I need to talk to you.”
I froze.
“Well, I'll leave you two to it,” Ria said.
Without waiting for either my response or Miloran's, she slipped back into the studio.
The door clicked shut behind her.
Leaving us alone.
“So?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “What did you want to talk about?”
Miloran uncrossed his.
“Changing your mentor.”
My brows shot upward.
An unpleasant knot formed in my stomach.
“Tarven wants to give me up?”
“No.”
Miloran's answer came immediately.
“But I doubt you'll enjoy spending the next few months watching him mentor Rosalie alongside you.”
I forced myself to stay calm.
“Why would you think that?”
I had no idea how much Tarven had told Miloran.
And I had no intention of letting one of my secrets slip.
Miloran remained silent.
But damn it.
His expression gave everything away.
“You're a damn observer,” I muttered.
Even to my own ears, my voice sounded different.
Weaker.
Like another crack had splintered through the steel walls of my armor.
“And you're suggesting I leave his group?”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
Infuriatingly calm.
“Did she get accepted into the strongest group?”
I swear, if the answer was yes, I was going to ask Joelle to poison me.
Or maybe pay Alicia a visit myself.
“I don't know. She's not strong enough for that group.”
I exhaled quietly.
A small wave of relief.