Chapter 12 Oh #3
She tried to lose herself in the motion, to silence her mind and let the Gift take over, but the harder she fought, the more her thoughts rebelled.
With every failure, Elara’s commentary grew sharper, a barrage of “pathetic” and “utterly predictable” and “you’re softer than bread left in the rain.
” The physical strain and the humiliation made it harder and harder to concentrate. Her emotions were all over the place.
And below it all, the memory of Kael worked its way deeper.
She caught herself longing for him to be here with her—watching, perhaps, arms crossed and smile crooked, ready to catch her when she fell.
It was absurd, childish even, like a little girl dreaming of her white knight, but the idea clung to her like static.
Elara pushed her harder. Now the lesson included deflection drills, forceful blocks that sent a jolt up her arms, or else failed outright and left her sprawling in the snow. Her gloves were soaked through, bones aching.
Still, Elara didn’t let up.
“You’re not a little girl anymore,” Elara said, circling around her like a hunting cat. “You have to want it, Alina. The rest is discipline.”
Alina wanted to snap back—wanted to say something, anything—but she knew it would only fuel Elara’s contempt. The only thing she could do was try again, so she did, until her arms numbed and her lips went pale from the cold.
She tried to remember what it had been like, days ago, when the Gift had come to her in a rush, effortless as breath. But those moments now felt foreign, as if they belonged to someone else. The harder she searched for her power, the more the lesson became a mirror for her own self-doubt.
The drills spun on, relentless and unforgiving. Alina lost track of time. Only the growing blur at the edge of her vision reminded her to blink, to breathe.
When the focus gesture finally worked, a shiver of energy rippling through the clearing and dancing in her outstretched hand for but a second, Elara let out a long-suffering sigh.
“Pathetic. I expected better from you. From what Kael tells me, you’re a quick study. Did you fool him, or are you simply too weak to show me what you really are?”
Alina froze.
Something snapped. Enough! For hours she had shoved down the insults and frustration and pain.
Now, it all began to bubble and spark and heave and finally exploded in a mighty eruption, completely out of control.
As if from above, she watched herself draw up, shoulders back, chin high and stalking toward Elara.
In one fluid motion she raised her hands and opened her mouth and screamed, screamed, screamed, unable to stop, unable to care, unable to comprehend a single emotion other than burning rage.
A wave of force ripped out from her, tearing up the hard ground, and sending a spray of frozen moss and half-thawed earth in every direction.
The blast caught Elara square in the chest and threw her back, legs folding beneath her as she hit the ground with a grunt.
Silence rushed in, thick and absolute. Smoke curled upward from the scorched earth, the a lonely sapling nothing but a blackened stick.
Alina stood, arms out, chest heaving, and stared across the wrecked clearing.
Elara, stunned, pushed herself up, eyes wide and wild for the first time. Her usual mask of bored contempt was gone, replaced by something raw: fear, maybe, or respect, or the cold, certain recognition that the balance of power had shifted.
Alina let her arms fall, the ache in her body nothing compared to the new, burning thing in her veins.
For the first time all morning, Elara didn’t have a word to say.
They stared at each other across the ruined ground, smoke rising between them, the silence heavier than any insult.
Alina had finally done something that mattered, and it tasted like victory.
Night was a living thing in the Caves, greedy and full of teeth.
Alina drifted through the tunnels, her muscles shivering with exhaustion, her mind still sparking from the morning’s triumph and the simmering memory of Elara’s wide, startled eyes.
She should have been asleep, but the quiet set her nerves jangling.
Each footstep echoed too loudly. Every torch guttered in the corner of her vision, as if someone, or something, was always a half-second from stepping out and grabbing her.
She wandered aimlessly, chasing the ghosts of her own thoughts until she nearly walked straight into a closed door where light bled out in a slim, yellow line onto the dirt. Voices snapped in the air. She ducked to the shadowed side of the frame, heart pounding, and listened.
Maven’s voice was a knife: “We need to tell her. She is a wildcard, and we need to know how she reacts.” Were they talking about her?
Kael’s reply was lower, thick with barely leashed fury. “She’s not ready. You saw what happened today.” Yes, definitely talking about her. Alina’s stomach tightened.
“Exactly! We want maximum output, but we need to know that she’s stable. We cannot use her if she burns us all to ashes.”
“She’s not a weapon for you to aim, Maven! She’s a person. And she’s at the center of this whether you admit it or not.”
A beat of silence, punctuated by Kael’s long exhale.
“I know you don’t trust her, Maven, and I know you don’t care for her. But she’s more than just a prophecy.”
What? What prophecy? What hadn’t he told her? A heaviness that felt a lot like betrayal settled onto her. He hadn’t been honest with her. It stung more than she wanted to admit.
Maven’s answer was quieter, but Alina could hear the venom in his words. “You think that girl’s the best hope we have, but I tell you, she is the last mistake we’ll ever make.”
The door flew open, and Maven stormed down the corridor away from her, obviously furious and too deep in thought to notice a single thing around him.
Kael lingered behind. She could hear him shuffling about and then flopping heavily onto a chair, sighing, and then hitting his fist on the table.
Quietly, Alina retreated, her feet numb, and wandered through the Caves, meeting people, greeting some, ignoring others.
For a long while she sat on the balcony above the mess hall, where she had watched Kael down below so long ago.
Her mind raced and her heart stuttered. What was she to him?
A tool? What were his plans for her? Was he really attracted to her?
Did he even like her? Or was it all just a ploy to make her comply?
She felt herself crumbling into a tiny ball of sadness and disappointment.
But it had felt so real. When he had held her hand at the Festival of Lights, when they had danced.
When he looked at her as if she were the only thing that truly mattered.
When he had kissed her the night before.
Had he really been acting all the time? Somehow, she couldn’t believe it.
Or was that just a na?ve fantasy she didn’t want to let go?
Finally, stiffly and half frozen, she got up and walked with heavy steps to where her heart tugged her.
She found herself in front of Kael’s door, fingers poised to knock, when it swung open from the inside.
Kael stood there in a half-unbuttoned shirt, his dark hair mussed and feet bare against the freezing floor. For a moment neither of them said a word.
“Couldn’t sleep?” he said, voice a shade softer than it had been with Maven.
Alina shook her head. “I need to ask you something.” Her voice came out flat, scraped raw by too many secrets.
Kael looked her over, eyes flicking from her face to her hands, then back again. “Come in.”
He stepped aside to let her into the room.
It was smaller than she’d expected, barely more than a cot and a battered trunk, but the walls were covered in maps and notes, and the blanket on the bed was thick and soft, piled with furs for extra warmth—the only hint of comfort in the place.
The bed looked rumpled, as if he had just been lying in it.
Kael closed the door behind them and turned, arms folded, jaw working as he waited for Alina to speak.
“I heard you talk to Maven.” If he was surprised he didn’t show it. “What did he mean?” Alina demanded. “About the prophecy. About me.”
He hesitated, which was answer enough.
“Tell me, Kael,” she pressed. “I heard you. I want the truth.”
He ran a hand through his hair, then walked over to the bed and sat down hard on its edge. “It’s nothing,” he started, but at her glare he sighed and gave up the lie.
“There’s an old story,” he admitted. “From after the old king, your uncle, died. It says someone like you—someone Gifted, but more than Gifted—would break the wheel and either save us or destroy us. They think—we think—you’re that person.”
Alina let out a laugh that was all teeth. “So I’m your pet prophecy? A weapon you can’t wait to point at my father?”
Kael’s eyes shot up, gold and bright with anger. “You’re not a weapon. You’re not a prophecy. You’re you.” His voice softened, and for the first time, she saw the hurt in him. “But Maven… the others… they see you as a chance.”
She looked away, blinking hot tears she refused to let fall. She would not show weakness, not here, not now. “And you?”
“I see you,” he said, voice breaking. “Not what you might do. What you are.”
“But when you abducted me, you didn’t see me. You snatched the weapon.”
He looked at her then, long and with a sad tinge in his eyes. “True. But—”
“But what?” she almost shouted. “What, Kael, tell me! Now is not the time for your cryptic one-liners!”
Silence again, but this time it was thick with something else. Alina crossed her arms, fighting the tremor that wanted to run through her.
“But now you are so much more.” He held her gaze. And she his.
“You could have told me. You should have.”