Chapter 18 Harkin
Chapter eighteen
Harkin
Seren Corso was a storm cloud of a woman. Her disparate eyes were a brewing tempest, cold and sharp. Unpredictable. She could be so powerful—dangerous even—if she would only let herself wield her mágik at its full potential. Annoyance rose in me at her lack of effort.
Her lightning eyes were quiet now, almost bored. A single droplet of water danced along her fingertip and licked at her palm.
I ran an impatient hand through my hair, turning so she would not see the flash of anger that coursed through me. Days had passed since we arrived at the cottage, yet Seren still could not manage more than a palm full of water. More likely, she only refused to summon her mágik.
It heated my blood to know that she was capable of so much, yet tried so little. It felt as if she failed on purpose, and I could not help but wonder if this was one long game of hers. To provoke me. To crack my facade. To make me hate her as much as she claimed to hate me.
I was fighting the urge with all my might, but she didn’t make it easy. I was angry with myself, too, for making a mess of things. Never before had I come across a person so difficult to get through to.
My masks had always laced with ease. I was an expert at crafting the guise my marks wanted to see. Manipulation came easy to me, and lies were quickly poised on the tip of my tongue, but I could not figure out who she wanted me to be.
I had half a mind to hate her for that alone. It certainly hadn’t leant itself to us working together. We were endlessly at odds.
Seren earned back the first of her weapons for her participation, the smallest dagger in her repertoire.
She had promptly lost it again in her second failed attempt to end my life as I slept.
She reacquired the small knife another time—and she had managed to keep the blade to herself—but she hadn’t earned any others as her progress continued to stall.
That had not stopped her from attempting to flee from me half a dozen times.
The days felt as if they were slipping away, and I had little progress to show for my efforts. Prince Claudian was unhappy, as he expressed in our written communications. I needed to try harder. I had to find a way to finally connect with her.
With a deep breath, I stepped closer to Seren. My expression schooled into one of concern. “Are you alright?”
My question surprised her, and Seren’s brows raised, unbidden. “Excuse me?”
“I only wondered if you were feeling alright? We’ve been training for days, yet you have not managed more than a droplet of mágik. I am concerned for you.” I hoped my voice sounded sincere to her ears.
It rang oddly in my own.
Her face pinched, somewhere between disbelief and amusement. “Right. If that’s the story you’d like to go with.”
“What does that mean?” I inquired.
“You are not truly concerned for my well being, or I would not be here. If you are worried by my lack of progress, it is entirely for selfish reasons.” Seren stepped closer to me, the water droplet still roving across her long fingers.
I tracked the movement loathingly. “It makes you look bad, doesn’t it?
So incompetent. Nothing to show for your efforts. ”
My jaw clenched, stomach dropping as her words echoed my own thoughts.
She grinned, teeth bared. “I have seen the ravens delivering letters. I can only imagine what they say.”
Seren puffed her chest, voice dropping in imitation of me.
She frowned in exaggerated defeat. “Apologies, dear Prince. The woman you have sent me to gather is entirely unwilling to follow my direction. Never before have I encountered such defiance. I am so used to supplicants bowing before my feet. Please, sir, give me guidance on the wings of your swiftest raven. However will I manipulate her into doing as I bid?”
“Stop,” I commanded, struggling to keep the ire from my voice. “That is not… You have not made things easy on me—that much is true—but I don’t expect you to fall to my feet in reverence. I only want you to try.”
“You think I haven’t been trying? Then what is this?” She flicked her finger, and water splashed across my face.
The droplet rolled over the curve of my cheek and dripped off my jaw. I didn’t brush it away, much as I wanted to. “A cheap parlor trick. An infant could do as much. You have not been trying. You have been placating me, but my patience wears thin.”
“Good!” Seren shouted. “I am so fucking tired of you trying to act so prim and proper. You have been a ghost made of pleases and thank yous, but you refuse to say anything you truly think. You are not concerned for me. You do not care what happens to me. You need progress, and yet you do not force it from me. You are weak.”
Those last words rolled off her tongue with such amusement, something snapped within me.
“You are weak!” I roared, mask cracking at the edges. “Infuriating, stubborn woman. You need me.” I laughed, loud and disbelieving. “You’re right. I did ruin your life in Ordelés. You cannot go back—you can only go forward—but if you arrive in Acsilla like this, you will be eaten alive.”
Seren scoffed. We stood toe to toe, faces drawn close in mirrored expressions of fury. “I do not need you. I will never need you.”
Rage coursed through me, replacing my blood with something molten.
Was it her anger or my own?
Seren felt everything so deeply. I fought against it at every turn. I sensed her with every breath. But I could not fight it now, not when my own anger latched onto hers and spun utterly out of control.
I drew my blade before she could blink—before I could think better of it.
I stalked forwards, forcing her back until her body drew flush with the nearest tree trunk.
My hips pinned her in place; my hand raised with waiting power.
Her chin tilted up, eyes wide as they bored into mine.
I pressed my dagger against the soft skin of her throat before I could get lost in them.
She swallowed hard—surprised at my sudden outburst—and I knew I should stop. I knew there was only hurt down this path, but I chose it anyway.
When I spoke again, my voice was rough. Gravel scraped my throat raw.
“You are so ignorant of the world you were born in. You would not last a single day on your own. I could kill you before you inhaled a single breath, and I am far from the worst creature in the Varázis Erva. If you do not genuinely embrace your mágik, you will not survive the year.”
Seren pressed against my blade, and it sliced through the delicate skin of her throat. A bead of dark red welled at her neck, blood dripping down to the expanse of her collarbones. “I hope it hurts,” she whispered, “when the Gryffem drag you to the Underworld. I expect you’ll be meeting them soon.”
My flesh lit afire as her dagger slid between my ribs, cutting clean through the meat of me and scraping against bone. I inhaled—sharp and silent—then released it on a groan.
My arm dropped as I pitched forward, and Seren ducked out of my hold. She lashed out again, and I dodged, repositioning my dagger—fingers sticky with my own blood.
We circled each other, breaths heavy and weapons glistening with the blood we had already drawn. It reminded me of our first encounter on the training field, but now, murder filled Seren’s eyes.
She did not care to see me yield.
Seren attacked first, feinting left then ducking low, slicing at my legs. I kicked out, catching the edge of her blade with the thick sole of my boot. She stumbled backwards but managed to maintain her balance.
I stalked toward her, steady in step but breathing far too fast. Heat licked through me, pain and anger married into one aching need.
For a moment, I forgot my mission. I forgot myself.
I knew only the frustration of these past days, and the cause stood right in front of me, ready to meet her punishment.
Clashing steel rang through the forest as we struck again and again. A sharp cry when I sliced through the supple flesh of Seren’s bicep. A grunt when her fist met my windpipe in a crushing blow.
Her eyes blew wide, wild as she rushed me a final time. I caught her around the waist, sending us both toppling to the ground.
I pressed her into the grass with the weight of my body, thigh to thigh and chest to chest. Sunlight glinted off the metal of her blade as she swung it for my ear.
My fingers wrapped around her wrist, forcing it above her.
I slammed it against the ground again and again until she released the dagger with a gasp.
“It is over, Seren. Your little act of rebellion is done. You have lost. Let us stop this foolishness.” I attempted to pull myself together, to calm my racing heart and remind myself that I needed her alive.
Her heavy exhales sent hot breath across my exposed neck. Her fury hardened into something else entirely as I kept my gaze trained on her face. Glaring at me through her mesmerizing eyes, deepest dark brown and coldest steel gray, she let out a roar.
Pain erupted, icy in my chest. I couldn’t catch my breath. A sputtering sound built low in my throat.
Seren tried to push out from under me, but my head lolled onto her shoulder.
The urge to yell, to scream, to do anything rose within me, but I could not react through the growing panic. Water spilled from my mouth, and I gagged around it. My vision dimmed at the edges. My limbs grew weary.
I was drowning.
My hands grasped for Seren clumsily, pleading with my touch. I wrenched my eyes open and caught the distress which painted her features.
She was not in control of herself. She didn’t mean to do this to me, but she could not stop it either.
Pushing at her hips, I lifted my body away from hers. I coughed and wretched as her mágik pounded through my lungs and throat and nose. I vomited stomachfuls of water into the grass, but still my body brimmed with it.
Seren scrambled away, breathing heavily. Her back hit a tree, the same one that I had pressed her against in my anger. She squeezed her eyes shut, muttering to herself as unbridled fear emanated from her.
It rocketed through me, driving my panic to dangerous heights.
“Stop. Stop. Stop!” I could barely hear her screeching over the blackness that threatened to wash me away. The pain was fading now.
The last thing I saw were her eyes, the soft curtain of her hair pulled free from her braids. I smiled—such a foolish thing to do, gazing at the woman who would be my end—and unconsciousness claimed me.