Chapter Twenty #2
“If emotion is the current and intention is the shape,” I say slowly, “what happens if the only thing you intend is to make someone or something stop existing?”
Every head in the room snaps toward me. Fair enough. The question is sort of general, a workaround really for any and all “intents.”
Professor Astra goes very, very still. “We have moved on, Haide. Your codex.”
“Come on,” I coax, a bit mockingly. “We don’t get to learn this for four whole ass years.” I hold her gaze. “Humor me.”
“That,” she says finally, voice softer but no less sharp, “is not a spell you are ready to design.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
A muscle jumps in her jaw. Around us, someone hisses under their breath while another mutters, “Of course she’d ask that,” like I’m not three feet away.
Professor Astra steps forward, lowering her tone so it doesn’t carry as far, but I know everyone is straining to hear anyway.
“In theory,” she says, “if you only gave the magic the command to unmake…it would look for the most direct path. It would not be quick. Or clean. It would strip away everything that makes a person them before it touched the flesh. It would be—”
“Cruel,” a boy at the front blurts, unable to keep quiet.
“Precise,” Astra corrects, gaze never leaving mine.
“But unpredictable. Wild. Because the caster did not bother to define what ‘existing’ means. Body? Memory? Bond?” Her eyes narrow suspiciously.
“A spell like that doesn’t care about consent or collateral.
” She lets that sink in and then adds, pointedly, “It is the kind of magic that has gotten entire bloodlines erased from Rathe and only one in a million gifted could even attempt to create.”
The room chills.
I hold her stare, something cold and stubborn setting behind my ribs. “So, the problem isn’t the spell,” I say. “It’s the caster being lazy.”
For a heartbeat I think she might actually smile. Then it’s gone. “Class dismissed,” she snaps, breaking whatever strange current spun out between us.
Chairs scrape and the dome overhead clears to pale daylight as everyone begins to file out. They give me a wide berth, like they’re not sure if I might gut them right here and now in front of everyone.
But only a few faces look wise enough to fear me. The rest?
Pissy little fucks I’ll need to watch out for.
Professor Astra calls another student over with a question, but her gaze tracks me as I move toward the door, unreadable.
My smirk is full force as I curve out into the hall.
I’m going to the Flying Grounds and I dare someone to track me this time.
I’ll be fucking ready and they will be dead.
Then they can call me a murderer and it will be true.
I mean, I am already if you really think about it.
But I didn’t earn the title the way they’re accusing.
My good mood evaporates with a groan as soon as I spot someone blocking the exit of the building.
Creed.
He fills the doorway like it was carved to fit him, one hand braced against the stone above his head, the other buried in his pocket.
He’s opted for a more casual style today, wearing his training clothes.
Everything else is the same. All sharp lines and unbothered violence that is definitely directed at me.
I stop a few feet away, shifting my weight onto one hip. “Oh, mighty big King. To what do I owe this absolute fucking travesty?” I drawl. “Or did you get lost? The self-righteous prick convention is down the hall to the left.”
He doesn’t smirk. His gaze flicks once to the hand I used for the spell, then to my face again. It’s like he knows what no one in that class figured out. “Enjoying your lessons on building prettier ways to kill?”
“I’m a quick study,” I say. And yeah, he knows because it’s all I can think about. Doesn’t have to dig real hard into my mind to see it. “Why, you nervous?”
“I’m never nervous,” Creed replies, and I almost believe him.
“I’m…evaluating.” His eyes narrow, something like disdain and grim respect mixing in equal measure.
“You keep asking questions like that, brat, and even the ones who don’t already want you dead are going to start wondering if they should. ”
“Let them wonder,” I say. “Better than thinking I’m weak.”
He huffs a humorless breath. “You are many things. Weak isn’t one of them. Reckless? Absolutely. Unwanted? Couldn’t make that more obvious if I tried.”
“Is this the part where you threaten me again?”
“Not yet.” He straightens away from the doorframe, stepping just close enough that I have to tip my chin to keep our eyes level.
Power hums off him in a quiet, suffocating wave, but I refuse to step back.
“This is the part where I remind you that my brother is hanging on by threads I’m barely keeping intact. ”
My stomach flicks, a quick, defensive twist. “You’re the one who keeps saying the bond isn’t real,” I say. “So why do you care what questions I ask?” And I never said I was asking because of any bond…
Not going to clear that up, though.
His jaw tenses at my mention of the bond, but he’s quick to smooth his features once more. “Because I see what you’re doing to him, Haide. And I will not allow it.”
“Not really your sole decision, is it?” I challenge. “If it were, I wouldn’t be here at all.”
His mouth curves. “Is that what you think?” He approaches, voice lowering to a whisper.
“He may have brought you here, girl, but I am the one allowing your stay. See, sending you back now wouldn’t serve me.
There are things I am trying to figure out.
Something has been torn and I will find where the other half lies.
Even if I have to drain you drop by drop myself. ”
“But, Captain-Control-Issues,” I drawl sarcastically, “I have done as you asked. I’ve behaved like a good little girl. I know why you’re here and honestly, it’s embarrassing that you don’t just outright say what you came to say.”
His lips pull back in a snarl. “And what do you think that is?”
“I was at the Royal Gateway. I watched Legend open it with the blood of his palm. I know now that what you said was real and I should be, I don’t know, grateful that you’re not just a liar or some shit.
Or maybe you’re concerned things have changed because when I stepped through that thing in your brother’s arms, it wasn’t sand I found on the other side and now you’re afraid things have changed. ”
“Have things changed?”
I mask my surprise. Honestly, I didn’t expect him to just come out and, well, not admit, but def thought he would deny or feed me some royal riddle shit.
“If they had.” I cock my head, watching him closely. “Wouldn’t you already know…mind man?”
He’s silent for several seconds, but when I try to sidestep him he moves with me, his features blank.
“Be careful, Haide,” he says slowly. “Knives are useful. But the sharper they are, the easier they cut the hand that holds them.”
“That’s what gloves are for.”
Creed studies me for a long moment before he finally steps aside so I can pass through the doorway. Still, his attention—heavy and assessing—stays pinned on me as I pass. Like I’m a spark in a room full of explosives.
“My brother is a smart man, Haide,” he calls at my back, but I keep walking. “Eventually, he will see you for what you really are, and when he does, he will turn against you.”
I look over my shoulder because I can’t stop myself, frowning at the certainty in his eyes. He smiles then, a full curve of his lips that sends a shiver down my spine.
“Legend will destroy you from the inside out and I can’t fucking wait to watch.”
I start walking again, giving him nothing and believing not a damn word.
Legend would never turn against me.
Right?