Page 54 of The Blood Rites

“Mmm?”

She picks absently at her nails. “What happened with you and Kael? Callen said you got really hurt.”

I almost laugh. I want to tell her nothing happened, that everything is fine, but the lie burns in my throat before it even reaches my mouth. I’ve spent my entire life hiding things, but somehow it feels harder here, maybe because death suddenly feels close enough to touch.

“Nothing happened,” I say anyway. “Callen and Morwen got into trouble. I helped them out.”

Marissa folds her arms. “By getting yourself beaten half to death?”

“If that’s the version Callen told you, then apparently so.”

That earns the faintest twitch of amusement from her.

“You’re lucky we can’t die in here,” she mutters. “He said Kael practically tore the room apart getting to you.”

Something twists unexpectedly in my chest.

“I’ll need to speak to Callen about the stories he tells children.”

Her expression hardens immediately. “I’m not a child.”

The words come too quickly for her to mean them casually, and guilt twists quietly in my stomach. “I know,” I say softly.

She exhales through her nose and looks away. “Kael’s always watching you.”

I stiffen before I can stop myself.

“People don’t usually look at someone the way he looks at you," she says.

“I think he just wants to kill me first,” I say lightly. “To prove a point.”

“I don’t think so,” she says. “He wouldn’t have stepped in if he wanted you dead.”

“Maybe he’s trying to lower my guard first.”

I mean it as a joke, but I’m no longer entirely convinced it is one.

Marissa studies me carefully. “The way he looks at you is strange.”

I look away before she notices the heat climbing into my face.

“Has he hurt you?” she asks quietly after a moment.

“No,” I say. “Not really.”

Not in the ways that matter.

“He just wants to know why I can’t channel.”

She goes quiet then, thinking. I know where her thoughts have drifted: the Choosing, the Blessed, the things she overheard.

When she finally speaks again, her voice is careful. “Do you really have no Mana?”

I press my palms together instinctively, remembering the familiar weight of the bands around my wrists. The absence of them still feels odd.

“Marissa,” I say slowly, “can you keep a secret?”

Her eyes widen instantly. “Of course.”