Sixteen
Nox
“Make preparations to begin the trials tomorrow,” I ordered, halting my dinner companion”s actions.
Heavy and unanticipated, the directive thickened the air, as if a storm cloud had settled over the table. Directly across from me, Lorne carefully examined my face. His eyes, usually filled with unwavering trust, now harbored a hint of skepticism and concern.
“You want to give up the last day of training?” he questioned, his voice laced with disbelief.
“If they”re not ready, one day isn”t going to make a difference,” I replied. My words carried a tone of indifference that belied the turmoil within.
As I picked up my silverware, the utensils felt like foreign instruments and I was their clumsy director.
Lorne, sensing the gravity of my decision, put down his knife and fork. “This week hasn”t been about getting them in shape, Nox,” he asserted, his words cutting through the air like a chilling wind.
“I”m aware.”
My gaze fixed on the plate before me. The roast, once a symbol of abundance, now seemed like a manifestation of the impending sacrifice.
Ignoring the weight of his glare, I cut into the entree. The tender meat yielded under the pressure of my knife, its juices pooling on my plate like spilled blood. Lorne”s words echoed in my mind, each syllable a haunting reminder of the responsibility placed upon my shoulders.
I stabbed a piece of meat and brought it to my mouth, but the flavor was lost on me. My taste buds were dulled by the bitter aftertaste of decision-making, a taste I couldn”t quite swallow.
The trials threatened to consume not only the contestants but also my soul. Some would likely not walk away intact, and I myself could come out completely transformed.
When we had planned our course of action, I hadn”t cared much about the consequences. The trials were a means to an end, a journey leading to the revelation of hidden truths.
My path was clear, and yet, beneath the surface of my determination, a seed of doubt had sprouted shortly after our return to Thornewood.
“Nox,” Lorne”s voice broke through the darkness, soft and laden with a mix of frustration and concern.
“I know,” I reiterated, my voice now a mere whisper.
Lorne”s eyes flickered with understanding, yet his brows remained knitted together. He had always been the cautious one. A small part of me envied his ability to think clearly when my own mind was clouded by doubt.
Sighing heavily, Lorne pushed his plate away and crossed his arms upon the table. “You could make her sit out.”
We hadn”t discussed it in detail, but Lorne knew Aeryn had caught my attention. And held it. She didn’t actually know the power she had over me.
Despite the circumstances, however, I clung to my father”s dying words, refusing to let go.
I shook my head. “She can”t sit out. I bound her to the trials.”
Lorne”s disappointment was palpable. “We can”t interfere, then.”
Tossing my utensils onto the plate with a clatter, I cursed under my breath. “We can alter some things, though, correct?”
“To a certain degree, but I”m not going to be able to stop Zoriyah if she decides to burn your little magicless hellion to a crisp.”
The beast inside me roared, lashing out through my words. “What would you do if it were Sofiya?”
His face hardened, an eye twitching.
As intended, I’d hit a nerve.
My brother probably assumed no one noticed how he looked at the female, how his voice changed when he spoke to her. I wasn”t the only one feeling torn.
Then, unexpectedly, Lorne answered my question. “I would burn the fucking world down to protect any female I chose to keep as my own.”
His words added weight to the burden holding me down. Lorne, the pillar of unwavering loyalty, had shown a glimpse of vulnerability, revealing the depth of our predicament.
He tossed his napkin onto the table and slid his chair back from the table.
“Lorne, is Sofiya–”
“There are limits to what I can do, but I can alter the maze a bit before they enter,” Lorne spoke over me.
I took a deep breath, my fingers tracing the rim of my empty wine glass. “If the tasks are easier to complete, perhaps those with the most ambition will move through them quickly and not worry about the others.”
“For Aeryn”s sake, I hope you”re right,” he remarked, rising from his chair. “And for yours.”
Lorne”s footsteps faded, leaving me alone to stew in the darkness of my decisions. With a determined resolve building fast, I rose from the table and made my way to the library.
The magic of the trials, once a source of excitement and unity, now felt like a malevolent force I couldn”t control. I knew tampering with it was risky, but the seed of doubt demanded action.
What had I been thinking when I bound Aeryn like that, knowing she hadn’t come into her powers yet? I sighed. The answer was simple.
I hadn’t been thinking of anything other than my own desperation to keep her here.
She’d pushed my buttons and I reacted. Somewhere, in the back of my depraved mind, I wanted to test her, to see what she was made of.
I spent the rest of the night pouring over old tomes and journals, searching for a solution to the immediate problem. No contestant could sit out, as Lorne had suggested, but perhaps the scope of flexibility went further than we knew.
By the time I left the library, I was certain that I had an answer, and it whispered in the shadows that I was well and truly fucked.