Chapter 2
On reflex, I twisted my wrist sharply, breaking the hand’s grip and spinning toward my attacker.
The hooded man from the tavern.
My dagger was already out, flashing against the snow and streetlamps flickering above.
The man’s lips curved into a slow, infuriating smirk as he raised his hands, as if in surrender.
“Go on, then,” he taunted.
“Don’t tempt me.” I extended the dagger so it gleamed brightly.
His body moved like a coiled spring, legs sweeping out, hooking behind mine and yanking me off-balance.
He twisted his hips, spinning us both until I landed against the side of one of the trees lining the edge of the forest. The bark bit into my back, the impact showering snow onto my hair and face from the branches above.
The dagger flew from my hand, the collision knocking the air from my lungs.
The man pinned me against him, his weight solid and unrelenting, as he caught my wrists in one hand, forcing them above my head.
“Regretting that mercy now?” he said, his breath loud in the quiet night.
“Let me go,” I snapped. My wrists strained against his grip, but I refused to flinch, meeting his scorn with a glare of my own.
He did as I asked, releasing my hands, though still caging me in with his sheer size.
I checked for my ribbons and coins. They were where I’d left them. Not a pickpocket, it seemed.
I inspected him carefully as I stood.
He was probably only a few years older than I was, in his mid- to late twenties. A strong cut to his cheekbones, a glint in his cold blue eyes, a curl of disdain on his lips. He had a mane of bronze hair framing his striking face.
I knew him, I realized. Or at least knew of him, the ghost of familiarity pulling at my gut to run.
Blake Axefire: the Ambush Master.
One half of the king’s dreaded, ruthless killers, the Twin Blades.
Born of steel, baptized in blood.
He was a Zenith, a magic user so powerful that only a handful were born each generation. As Ambush Master, he was also the leader of the king’s lethal Tyger Warriors. The brutal enforcer of the king’s will, he tore apart Ironstorm strongholds and slaughtered Azures ruthlessly.
And for some reason, he’d tracked me down.
I shivered but kept my voice nonchalant. “Is this what the great Ambush Master does to amuse himself in his free time? Assault innocent women in the night?”
Something dark flickered in Blake’s eyes. “You attacked me. Though I’m not surprised you’ve already conveniently forgotten that detail, Azure,” he murmured, the words edged with warning.
“Oh, choke on iron—”
“You seduce half the tavern, then head home alone? Are you intentionally daft, or is all that hair weighing down your brains?”
“I can handle myself just fine. I don’t need an escort.”
“Against a man, possibly.” He lifted an eyebrow. “How about a demon?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It was a lie. I knew the stories of the demons leaking from the Anchor, even here in the Silver Dominion. I’d felt the fear that emanated when someone dared to mention the Serpent Lord and his demons by name. “I haven’t done anything wrong or illegal, sir.”
I spun on my heel and started to walk into the woods.
I could hear his boots against the snow as he followed.
“When I first heard about the irresistible ribbon dancer, I passed it off as men thinking with their pricks. But then the stories kept spreading.” He stepped closer, hovering over my shoulder where I’d paused, his voice dropping low in my ear.
“People couldn’t stop talking about you, Rubi Morningtail. ”
“I’m a good dancer,” I said defensively.
“You did something to that room,” he snapped, his voice dangerous. “To all of us. I’ve never felt anything like it. That’s not Azure magic. All they know how to do is shift and snarl. What you did was something else entirely.”
His palm shot out then, grabbing for my wrists. Using his other hand, he forced my imprisoned hands open. “Show me your Marks.”
“Burn and die!” I spat at him. He jerked back, then grabbed my jaw hard.
“You want to keep that tongue?” he asked calmly. “Because I know a dozen ways to cut it out without killing you.”
A shudder ripped through me.
Glaring at him, I hummed quietly, activating my magic. I opened my hands so he could see the crescent yin Marks shine in my palms. They were so dim, you could barely see them. The brighter the glow, the stronger the magic. “Satisfied? I have hardly any power at all.”
He let go abruptly, as if I disgusted him. The imprint of his fingers ached against my skin. His yang Marks were legendary. They said his orange suns had flamed like beacons from his palms for years after his birth.
In one swift motion, he caught my arm again.
“If I find out you’re hiding something, songbird,” he said, voice grating like metal shards, “I’ll tear the truth out of you along with your tongue.”
He let go, turned, and vanished into the snow.
My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I pressed them to my sides, hard, like I could pin the fear in place. The alley was quiet now, just dripping icicles and the echo of Blake’s words.
You did something to that room. To all of us. I’ve never felt anything like it.
Shaking the entire night from my head, like I could tuck it behind whatever hid the other memories I’d lost, I stepped again onto the path home, moving as fast as my exhausted legs would carry me.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about how I’d seen Blake Axefire once before, at a Judgment last year.