Page 162 of The Blood Rites

“And yet you will,” I whisper, because that much is certain.

He laughs, a short, menacing sound. “Not if I can help it.”

I close my eyes, and his breath warms my face. I could stay like this forever. Just for the comfort of not being alone.

“You’re extraordinary,” he says, his voice so low I almost miss it.

I’m already halfway into sleep, but the words linger, a splinter in my heart. I want to tell him he’s wrong. That I am nothing, that everything I touch dies. But his hand cups my jaw, tracing a thumb down my cheek, and I don’t have the strength to argue.

I could pull away.

But I don’t.

I let myself drift, his voice echoing in my head.

You’re extraordinary.

A beautiful lie.

The kind this place is built on.

I’m not sure how long Kael lets me sleep in his arms, but I wake up in the bed, every muscle stiff from being held so tightly. There’s a small, perfect bruise where his thumb pressed my neck, like he was trying to hold me together.

He is gone now. The vomit cleaned up. There are no other signs that he was ever here, except the faint smell of his skin in the air.

I drag myself upright and stumble to the door. I’m fumbling with the handle when someone knocks—then the door swings open before I can answer.

Nyxen and Vaelis enter, practically bowling me over as they do. They are in clean uniforms, hair neatly arranged. They look the same as always, but their eyes are different. Nyxen’s are hollowed out, haunted by something I can’t place. Vaelis’ are sharp and bright, but the humanity has waned.

They don’t speak. Just stand at attention, staring through me.

“Party in my room?” I mutter.

They don’t answer.

Then Kael arrives, an Overseer floating suspiciously behind him. The Overseer hums, flickering in and out of focus, like it’s listening. Kael’s expression is set, hard as stone, and when he looks at me, there is no tenderness in it. Only warning.

We file out silently, across the corridor to his room.

Inside, the air is different, the lighting dimmer. The Mother Shard’s hum has returned, making my skin itch as a chill runs down my spine.

We sit in silence: Nyxen and Vaelis to Kael’s left, me to his right. When Kael speaks, his voice is calm and direct.

“One Fireborn,” he says. “That was the task.” His eyes narrow on Vaelis.

Vaelis doesn’t answer right away. He examines his hands, as if searching for excuses there. Finally, he looks up.

“Our apologies, Prince. He was... resilient. More so than expected.”

Nyxen just sits there, not speaking, not defending himself.

Kael exhales sharply. “Now we must contend with both of them again.” He runs a hand through his hair. “If the Fire trial is next, we’re fucked.”

I tense at the sting of his annoyance. I thought that shadow Mana worked well against fire. Maybe I’ve missed something. My eyes go to the wall, tracing the lines and pretending they’re Marissa’s laughter, Kael’s elusive smile—anything but reality.

Kael turns to me, his voice soft, almost careful. “How do you feel?”

I almost laugh. Instead, I say, “How do you want me to feel?”