Page 20 of Dark as the Cursed Abyss

“I don’t,” Farah said, turning away from the prince.

“Do you love my cousin?” Acacius growled, his palm now wrapped firmly around her arm.

“I have already told you we are to marry. What more do I have to say?” Farah spat by his boots, her saliva mixed with the sanguine tone of blood from her split lip.

“I did not ask if you intend to marry her. I asked if you loved her.” His tone grew deeper with every sentence, like it did each day over the last week.

His power threaded through her, talons ripping seams in the very veins beneath her skin, allowing the venom deep within her to spread. Fire spread along with it, making her keel over once more.

“Would I marry someone I didn’t love?” It was the same thing she repeated to herself at night, a lie that Acacius saw through during each of their training sessions.

“I believe you would say anything to keep your own head, even if that meant pretending to love her.”

Her vision began to blur, the world around her spinning. “I love her. There I said it. Are you happy now?”

“I would be if you were telling me the truth. Should I rip it out from you instead?”

Farah mustered up every last inkling of strength that was left inside, pushing herself up from the ground and lunging at Acacius. She twisted both her palms up, letting onyx ink snake up from her fingertips to her elbows. One blow. That was all she had left. Her magic welled in her palms, beginning to spin around each hand like a tornado and she released it on Acacius. Black flames and smoke hit him square in the chest, sending him backward against the side of the mountain. Rocks scattered down at the impact and dirt sprayed in all directions.

Her chest heaved as her power dwindled to nothing and Farah collapsed on the ground.

“Break. Now,” she winced, her breathing labored as that acrid tang enveloped her mouth once more.

Acacius palmed his hand down his face, using his other to rub the spot he was hit on his chest. “No more breaks for you, phoinix.”

This gods-damned insolent man was going to kill her before she even had the chance to step into the Mysteries. Did his trainee survival rate remain unaffected if she didn’t enter the first trial?

“I swear to the gods, Acacius,” Farah said through mangled breaths.

“We are done for the day.” He stood, brushed off his leathers and shirt, and walked toward her, extending his hand.

She smacked it away. “I will get up when I am good and ready.” Farah rolled over on the ground, splaying her arms wide as her breathing regulated.

“Suit yourself. There is a whole jug of water and cool cloths in the ice chest back in the cave though, so I know where I’m going to be.” Acacius waved at her and sauntered off toward the flame-lit cavern that eventually led back to the castle.

An ice cold cloth would do wonders for regulating her spike in body temperature. Even after a week of training with Acacius at this altitude she was still unsure how his power truly worked. It was winter, the air was always bitter on her skin this high above sea level, and yet it was as if he manipulated her own magic against her. Every dark flame and boiling smoke would fill her lungs and veins and sear burn marks into her skin despite snow falling around them.

“Ugh, fine.” Groaning, Farah rolled to her side, pushing her body up onto all fours and then to her feet.

Her balance was still weary and despite how much of a pain in the ass Acacius was during their sessions, he still quickly ran back and caught Farah before she could hit the ground once more.

“Maybe we went a little long today,” he said, looping one of her arms around his shoulders so he could help her to the cave.

“You think?”

“Look, I don’t enjoy doing this to you, as much as you might think so. The Mysteries—they take things from us, things we do not wish to give, truths, memories, pain.” Acacius turned Farah’s face toward him, and his features softened. “I don’t want anyone else to die at the hands of such an outdated tradition.”

Outdated? “Did you not believe in the Mysteries then? Why would you ever enter?”

From what little she learned about these horrid trials, it was an honor to participate, to prove your loyalty to the person you love, the crown, and the Fates.

They halted quickly, right outside of the entrance to the cave. “No one ever enters these trials willingly. I would think you of all people would know that.”

“I only know what you have told me, which is next to nothing, and what little I heard on the winds about my father and your mother.”

His jaw feathered at the comment, but Acacius did not show any other signs of distaste. “My mother is a believer of the olde ways as you might have guessed. She believes that the Fates still control our destiny long past the days of the Olympi. That sacrifice is warranted.”

“And do you not believe that as well? In sacrifice?” It should not have surprised her that Avra leaned into the olde ways in terms of sacrifice, it was something her father believed in as well, but there was a line of how much needed to be given up for the sake of power. Her father crossed that line more times than she could count.