Chapter 10
ROWAN
Steam curls through the air like ghosts, twisting into delicate ribbons before vanishing against the cold stone ceiling. I don’t know what game Malrik is playing, but if he wants to bribe me with luxury, I’ll enjoy it for however long I’m still here.
The tub appeared sometime while I was eating dinner in the dining hall with Malrik tonight, where he rudely pointed out that we’ve now been together for two weeks. A fact I hate more than anything, but I’m not sure I’m ready to do anything about it yet.
During all this time, Malrik and I have fallen into a steady routine of train, nap—for me at least—train again, then dinner before I’m back in my room for the evening.
I thought today would be much of the same, but something has been off. Malrik was extra aggressive and didn’t crack a single smile at any of my insults. The bruises and burns on my body are proof of that. Though I’ve become numb to most of them.
Sleep was the only thing on my mind when I entered my room, through an actual door I can now control, and not a sliding panel that made me feel like a prisoner before.
I mean, I know that hasn’t changed, but still.
It’s the small things I try to be grateful for, like a door with a handle and even the teeniest, tiniest window in the history of mankind that appeared inside my room a few days ago.
I can’t squeeze through it, but it lets in light, and that alone nearly broke me. Much like this soaking tub. Polished to a pearly shine, full of glittering hot water and lavender-scented bubbles. Even jets simmer beneath the surface, soothing my aches and pains.
If prisons came with amenities, this one’s making a solid case for five stars.
“Nothing says captivity like a spa day,” I mutter, sinking deeper into the water until it kisses my chin and bubbles tickle my ears. “Next, maybe a minibar. Or even some music would be great.”
The walls vibrate softly around me, almost like The Keep is thoroughly entertained by my antics. What can I say? I had the choice to be pissed about my own decision or to make the best of it.
I close my eyes and settle further into relaxation. After hours of Malrik’s relentless drills, I’m sore, raw, and starting to think sarcasm and quick wit are the only two things holding me together. Still, I won’t give up. I know I’m close to finding a way out.
The energy I can wield is beyond comprehension now.
So much so that I’ve begun holding back in front of Malrik.
I don’t want him to see me as a threat. Not yet.
I still haven’t gotten him to tell me anything useful about his plans and what his true interest in me is, nor have I learned anything in particular about his weaknesses.
He has to have them. I just need to be smarter.
I can’t leave here without that information.
No matter how much I wish otherwise.
As if just thinking about the devil conjured him, Malrik strides into my room without so much as a knock. The moment he sees my bath, every line around his face tightens into cold fury. “How did you get that?”
I blink at him, more than a little annoyed that I’m naked beneath these bubbles and he doesn’t seem to care about my privacy.
“You mean the bath? Oh, I handcrafted it between existential crises. Thought I’d reward myself for not dying today after dealing with your temper tantrums.”
But also, if this didn’t come from Malrik, then…
He doesn’t seem impressed by my humor. His gaze cuts to the ceiling, jaw tightening. “You do not belong to her, nor does she to you.”
The words aren’t meant for me. He’s talking to The Keep.
The air chills in response—a subtle thrumming that prickles my skin, like the house itself is daring him to say more.
Is this freaking sentient castle on Team Rowan now? If this place can feel loyalty, maybe it can feel mercy, too. Maybe it knows I don’t belong here any more than it does. This could be a game-changer, and now all the little extras within my room make much more sense.
Malrik has had no idea.
That truth makes me smirk, and I can’t help myself from suddenly thinking I might have the upper hand here. In more ways than one.
I rest an arm on the edge of the tub, looking directly at him. “You’re jealous. That’s sweet.”
He turns his glare back to me, gray eyes flashing silver. “Get dressed. You’re not finished for the day.”
“Yes, I am.” I sit up a little straighter, mindful not to let a nip-slip happen. “You’ve had enough beating on me today.”
His glare casts about the room, likely taking in my other new perks.
“No, I really haven’t, and you should remember that when you get to the training room within the next five minutes.
” He goes to the door and turns back once more.
“The Keep might have upgraded your room, but I control everything beyond this door. Don’t make me come back for you, Rowan. ”
I swallow hard, his darkening eyes turning my skin to ice. I hold tighter to the edge of the tub, and for the first time since coming here, I’m more than a little afraid.
I’ve grown stronger, but I’m still young, and I don’t know nearly enough about magic to outwit an experienced sorcerer like Malrik on my own, even if my power is on fire. I’m not stupid or na?ve enough to think so. Hence why I’m still freaking here.
But that little interaction and his demeanor have confirmed at least one thing for me. Prior plans be damned, I need to get the hell out of this place and quick. Answers aren’t as important as my life. I at least have self-preservation.
As soon as I’m alone again, I get up and towel off before quickly getting dressed in another training outfit. I pause briefly before exiting the room and look up. “Don’t let him actually kill me.”
I don’t know how much power this house actually has, but I’ll use it to my advantage if I can.
The hall lights guide me toward my destination, and when I enter the training hall, it’s ten degrees colder than normal. The air bites like frost, every breath stinging. The runes lining the floor glow faint blue instead of their usual white, pulsing more slowly.
Malrik stands in the center, still furious based on the twitch in his jaw, but pretending not to be. He gestures toward me without a word.
The moment I step through the threshold, energy snaps toward me—a streak of silver light, fast and merciless.
I don’t flinch this time. I exhale, grounding myself in that quiet place deep in my chest. The energy bends around me, curling in a halo of light before sinking harmlessly into the floor.
Malrik’s frown is almost imperceptible. “You’re supposed to absorb power, not redirect it. Again.”
He’s not pleased that I’ve found a loophole in his training. He wants me boosted up with energy, but I haven’t figured out why, and I don’t want to. Especially not tonight when he’s in this mood.
The next blast hits harder, but I’m ready. I move with it, not against it, each pulse of energy dissolving before it can reach me. I can feel the calm settle over me, steady and certain. For the first time, I’m not reacting out of fear. I’m choosing what to do with the power inside me.
Malrik’s lips thin. “You’re not fighting. You’re…harmonizing. That’s not going to help find—” He stops himself. “Again.”
My pulse skips. Find what, exactly? He’s looking for something or maybe even someone. And whatever it is, I’m the key. Damn it. I know I said I was going to leave without answers, but now I’m intrigued.
“Maybe if you’d tell me what it is you actually expect of me, then I could do a better job of becoming the circus monkey you want.”
He snarls. “I want you to absorb the fucking power, Rowan. Is that too much to ask?”
“Yes, actually.” I stand taller, stalking toward him.
Fully-clothed-me isn’t as afraid of this man as naked-me.
“I’ve willingly let you beat on me for weeks now.
I’ve gotten up every day and done exactly as you’ve asked.
Sure, I probably annoy the shit out of you with my commentary, but you can’t deny I’ve been cooperating.
Give something more than, ‘again’. Tell me what I’m supposed to be doing because if it’s what I’ve already mastered, I’m lost, and that makes me useless to you. ”
In the words of Iris… Buttered bunions, I didn’t mean to go that far, but honestly, it felt freaking amazing.
I stay standing before him, sure and confident, and unmoving.
I’m done with these games. I can’t do this anymore.
I need to understand what the purpose of all of this is.
I can’t imagine he actually wants me to eliminate the entire supernatural species.
What would be the point? So he can lord over the humans by himself? That sounds stupidly boring.
His nostrils flare, and that’s all the warning I get before the air splits open with a sound like tearing metal. The light around him twists black, thick and heavy, coiling through the air like smoke made solid.
My stomach drops.
I try to block the energy, but the blast hits me square in the chest. The impact sends me to my knees, the world flashing white before it dissolves into sound—runes screaming, stone groaning, air vibrating like it’s alive.
When I look up, cracks spiderweb through the glowing sigils, light bleeding out of them like molten glass. Malrik sways, his skin pale, a sheen of sweat on his temple.
Though I doubt I look any better, I’m not nearly as panicked as he seems with that wide set in his eyes. Like, even he can’t believe he just did that. Or maybe he’s just surprised I’m still not dead.
Let’s be honest, I am, too.
The connection between us burns—his pain rippling through the air like an echo. The first signs of an answer that feels just out of reach.
I push to my feet, shaking but not giving up. Never. The room is destroyed, broken stone can be seen everywhere, but my gaze keeps coming back to Malrik.
He’s not okay.
He coughs once, voice raw. “Do you think you’ve won something?”
I stay calm and keep the distance between us now. “No, but I think I’m finally beginning to understand you.”
His brows knit together, and he stays silent, seeming to wait for me to reveal what I’m only now putting together.
I could be way off the mark here, but looking around us, watching how this castle is controlled and how his power has radiated only in this space, surrounded by runes…
Malrik isn’t all-powerful. He’s conditionally so.
That doesn’t make me believe him to be weak, but I’m also no longer afraid, which is what pisses him off so much.
I’m everything he isn’t.
He’s formidable, yes. Maybe even the first hybrid—born of Hollowborn and supernatural blood.
But he isn’t the Ashmark.
He isn’t me.
But he wants to be.
He told me he understands me because we are both special, we’re both hated just because of our bloodlines…but this goes deeper than that.
I may not know how far or why, but I suddenly don’t need to.
Malrik did his job almost too well. He beat me into submission, just not his.
“You care too much,” I finally say, sharing only a fraction of what I’ve uncovered about this monster. “I’m not sure what about, maybe I’ll never know, but a bit of advice for you, Rik. Just stop giving a shit. It takes all the pressure off.”
I turn away, hurting like a son of a bitch with every step I take, but I don’t limp or wince. I want him to question everything about who I am and what he’s forced me to become.
I want him to be afraid when I get the hell out of this place.
It’s about damn time you figured out who Rowan Prescott is.
That internal voice almost makes me stumble as I reach the exit, but instead, my steps quicken nearly as fast as my heart rate does. A warmth blooms behind my ribs, bright and wild, a howl rising from somewhere deep inside me.
Wolf?
Were you expecting anyone else?
Oh, how I missed her attitude.
I thought you were dead, I say through our mental connection, which grows stronger by the second. How are you back? Where did you go?
Malrik didn’t shatter only that room, she says, her voice slightly shaky. He broke his own spell that kept me contained, but don’t worry, I have my tricks, and I wasn’t alone.
The urge to shift pulses through me as a growl builds in my chest. I flex my fingers over and over again. We need to get out of here.
We will, she promises. And I know exactly how we’re going to do it.