Chapter 2
Two
Ireact on pure instinct, my hands flying up.
But instead of merely shielding myself, a blast of sky-colored lightning erupts from my palms, slamming into Falcen’s chest and sending him flying back.
He crashes into a tree with a sickening crunch, the impact sending a shower of luminescent leaves raining down around him.
For a moment, he’s still, slumped at the base.
“Oh, Nox’s foot,” I whisper.
My hands curl against my chest. Did I kill him? Is accidentally murdering people going to be a regular occurrence now?
But then he stirs, a groan escaping his lips as he pushes himself upright.
He wipes blood from his brow with the back of his hand before he pins me with a look. “Well, that was foolish.”
I back away, shaking my head. “I don’t want this. Any of it.”
Falcen sighs, a hint of weariness creeping into his impatient demeanor. “The girl who picked greyberries and buried her old cat is gone. She died the moment you called forth the dark magick inside you. You can never go back to that life.”
His words hit me like a physical blow, the horrible truth of them sinking in like Void-tainted talons. Memories of Noxie’s glowing eyes, of Edon’s life force draining away at my touch, play through my mind in a sickening loop.
“I’ll learn to suppress it. Hide it.”
Falcen barks out a laugh. “You think you’re the first to have that idea? Untrained Soulren are a danger to themselves and everyone around them. The academy is the only place you can learn to master your abilities.”
“And become your slave? Many thanks”—I turn to run—“but no.”
Falcen is faster. He’s in front of me in a blink, his hand wrapping around my throat with a cold, iron grip.
I claw at his wrist, gasping for air. My vision blurs at the edges as he hooks under my jaw and lifts me off the ground effortlessly. The ring of gold around his pupils expands, spearing through the blue and flaring in time with the rapid beat of my heart.
Falcen’s lips curl around his velvet-coated rasp. “You will submit, girl. The only choice you have is whether it’s while you’re still breathing or not. It makes no difference to me.”
A wave of dizzying weakness washes over me. Horror dawns the second I pinpoint why. He’s drawing out my essence, my soul.
Tattoos he didn’t have before appear on his neck and shimmer a darkling black as tendrils of my soul flow into him, the serpent-like patterns on his skin undulating like snakes feasting on my power and crawling into his cheeks…
The sensation is violating, excruciating. It feels like he’s peeling away layers of my being, stripping me down to my core.
This is what Edon endured. It’s what I did to him.
Tears leak from the corners of my eyes as I dangle in his ruthless grasp, my struggles growing weaker by the second. A vicious smile plays at the corner of Falcen’s mouth, a glimpse of the Void lurking beneath his cold, handsome exterior.
My grandmother’s stories travel along the inner panic, reminding me of what the Elite Renders are and what I’m up against.
“Listen closely, child. Soulren aren’t born.
They’re made. The academy takes those showing the ability to drain souls and forges them into something .
.. other. The lucky ones die. The rest? They hunger, always.
For souls, both light and dark, and for power.
The more they take, the stronger they become.
That’s how the hierarchy forms. The most ruthless rise to the top.
And the Elite Renders? They’re the worst of all.
They’ve consumed so many souls they’re barely human anymore.
One touch from them could drain you dry, leaving nothing but a husk.
Remember, sweetheart, if you ever see a Soulren, you run. You run, and you don’t look back.”
“Please...” I gasp. “Don’t…”
Pain lances through every nerve ending, my body convulsing. His face is a mask of concentration lined with a perverse, inky euphoria—an addict finally getting his fix.
But even as my lungs burn and oblivion encroaches, I feel that living, writhing energy building inside me. It matches Falcen’s. It wants what’s his. It combines in my gut like a nest of agitated spiders, responding to my hopelessness, my rage.
With a silent scream, I let it explode outward.
This time, the light is even greater. It rips through my body like a tempest, seeking escape, seeking a target.
Falcen is torn away from me and hurled through the air like a straw-stuffed toy, his body smashing through not one but several brightwillows before landing in a motionless heap.
I drop to my knees, coughing and gulping lungfuls of crisp, night air. My throat feels bruised, the imprint of his fingers still pressing through my skin.
Shaking, I force myself to my feet. Falcen remains still, crumpled amid the debris of shattered wood.
But I don’t wait to see if he’ll get up this time. I run, and I don’t look back.
I’m no longer following a trail through the thickening forest. All I know is that I need to put as much distance between myself and the Soulren Elite as possible.
Is that what I’ll become if I go to the academy? A slave to the thirst for souls, barely recognizable as human?
I stumble over a tangle of roots and go sprawling, biting back a cry as I skid across the forest floor. It’s tempting to remain there, tasting blood and dirt.
The crunch of footsteps reaches my ears, distant but drawing closer. Falcen. He’s quickly recovered and hunts me.
A sob rises, but I choke it back, pushing myself to my feet. My ankle throbs, but I ignore the pain, hobbling onward as fast as I can.
But where can I go? Home isn’t an option. If the villagers even suspect what I’ve become, they’ll turn on my family and me faster than a Void hound on a fresh soul. And beyond Belgrave’s borders ... Nox only knows what horrors await.
I force myself to keep moving, even as every step sends spikes of pain shooting up my leg. The ankle is definitely sprained, maybe worse, but I can’t afford to dwell on it. Not with Falcen’s footsteps growing louder, closer.
Desperation drives me forward, my heart climbing into my throat with my hurried breaths. The forest blurs around me, a dark labyrinth of contorted trunks and grasping branches that seem determined to impede my escape.
A flicker of movement catches my eye, and I skid to a halt. There, nestled between two massive brightwillows, is a shimmering distortion in the air, like heat rising from sun-baked stone. But this is different. More substantial. The edges crackle with filaments of sickly violet-pink energy.
Grandmother’s stories slam into me, stealing my breath. A Veil tear. Where the barrier between our world and the Void has worn thin.
Exactly the kind of area untethered souls are drawn to. The kind of place that amplifies soul-draining abilities.
The kind of place I should avoid at all costs.
Falcen’s shout rends the night air, far too close for comfort.
I spin around. He’s there, striding toward me through the undergrowth, his blue and gold eyes blazing with temper.
Blood still trickles from a gash on his temple, but he seems otherwise unharmed by his violent impact with the trees.
His chest injury has all but disappeared, too.
And his tattoos are gone, like they were never there in the first place.
If anything, he looks even more formidable, an angry tiger locked onto his prey.
I back away, my ankle screaming in protest. The Veil tear sparks and snaps at my back, the power it emanates making my skin crawl. I’m trapped between two deadly threats with no clear path to safety.
Falcen advances, his hand outstretched. “Get out of its path, Verily.”
“Stay back,” I rasp, my voice hoarse from his chokehold.
My gaze snaps back to the Veil tear, its bilious glow both repellent and hypnotic. Tales of unfortunate villagers wandering through, never to be seen again, invade my mind. Of twisted, corrupted things sometimes venturing out. I’ve never seen a tear before. I never want to see one again.
Falcen’s expression hardens. “You won’t survive two heartbeats. You’ve no idea what lies on the other side.”
“And I’ve seen exactly what awaits me with you,” I spit back.
The memory of his perverse euphoria as he drained me blackens every part of my mind.
I inch closer to the tear, the energy crackling along my spine, raising every hair. It feels wrong, a violation of the natural order. Just like the hideous power surging in my own veins. Maybe that’s where I belong now.
Falcen leaps, a wordless snarl on his lips. But even as his fingers brush the hem of my skirts, I’m stumbling backward, letting the Veil tear swallow me whole.
The moment I hit it, icy tendrils engulf me, looping around my limbs, tangling my hair, and burrowing under my clothes. They’re both shredding me and stitching me back together, atom by atom. Their garish light sears my retinas, and a scream rips from my lungs that’s swallowed by this vortex.
As suddenly as it began, it’s over. I’m spat out at Falcen’s feet, tumbling onto the damp, spongy earth that reeks of decay.
Slowly, I look from the tip of Falcen’s boots to his armored legs, to his hands, the veins there protruding from his skin and ink black from reaching into the tear and yanking me back. Smoke unfurls from his exposed skin.
“You,” he snarls once I raise my eyes to his face, “are a Nox-damned suicidal idiot.”