Page 59 of The Last Syphon

She wished it were that simple, but it wasn’t.

All her life, Inara had been treated as less than because of where she came from. When people heard she was from the Borderlands, there was a certain look that streaked across their faces. A look of disgust. Repulsion.

Yeah, she was partly doing this to rub it in Larissa’s face, but another part of her was doing it solely for her.

She wasn’t going to give up now. Not when she was so close.

“I can handle it, Felix. I promise.” Inara couldn’t see his face, but she was able to picture it in her mind because she knew exactly what it would look like. “Trust me. If it starts to become too much, I’ll withdraw. You have my word.”

He was not remotely happy about it, but her best friend was well aware of the fact that he would not be able to talk Inara out of something she’d already committed her mind to. She was far too stubborn for that.

CHAPTER TWELVE

The third and final chamber of the trials was set out a lot like the first; spherical in design, with a crowd of people watching on from above. There was no circle in the centre of the room this time, though. All that awaited her was one man, standing along the far wall, his face calm but eyes focused.

Inara cautiously stepped in. Apprehension trickled down her spine. She didn’t want to admit it, but there was also a little bit of fear creeping into her bones. It was difficult to explain what exactly she was afraid of.

She didn’t fear the man standing across from her. And she didn’t fear what awaited her. Inara feared what would happen when she reached the point of no return. She feared she might not be able to stop herself. That she might be too proud to withdraw when the time came, and her hidden Syphon side would take the opportunity to rise up within her.

Inara hoped she could fight it. Hoped she would not be so prideful as to put not only her life, but Felix’s life and Fraener’s life on the line for something so trivial.

Inara hoped she was strong enough.

But she honestly wasn’t sure.

She glanced upwards, running her eyes across the sea of people looking down at her until she found the set of almost glowing violet orbs. Prince Walder was already looking at her, but this time, there was something different in his gaze—something Inara could not quite place, but she was dying to figure out.

Standing behind him, Larissa glared at her. Gone was the smug look on her face, and in its place was one filled with anger, jealousy, and worry.

That one look made the entire ordeal worth it, in her opinion.

Inara inhaled, taking what she was sure was the dozenth calming breath since the trials had begun, and focused on the man in the chamber with her. Felix’s hand was securely on her shoulder, like always, and when she took a step, he took one to match.

Her guard was up. The first round was quite predictable, and so was the second, but she couldn’t afford to become complacent. If the previous round had proven anything, it was that it was going to be a lot harder than she thought to complete the trials.

She stopped a few feet away from the man. Her head tilted in assessment. He was tall. Thin. He wore loose trousers, but no shirt, and his hair was dark, running in curls down to his shoulders.

Inara and the man stared at each other. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do. Should she just attack? Was that the objective? A one-on-one battle where she had to fight him? Or perhaps keep him from attacking her Charge?

She adjusted her footing and turned her body slightly, putting her left leg slightly in front and her dominant leg behind her for stability.

It was a waiting game. Inara wasn’t the most patient person, but she also didn’t want to make a move prematurely and risk making the wrong one.

Sweat dripped down the side of her face. She wiped her palms on her thighs, wondering when they had gotten so clammy.

Was it getting hot in here? Why did it all of a sudden feel as though she was standing in a fucking kiln? Was it just her?

She glanced over her shoulder. Nope. Felix was sweating so much it was beginning to form a puddle at his feet.

This wasn’t normal. Not by a long shot. The heat was magic-induced. It had to be. There was no other logical explanation.

Inara’s suspicions were confirmed when the man flexed his arms and roaring flames consumed him from hands to shoulders.

Fuck. A Firestarter.

Out of all the fucking abilities Arelia could have brought forth, they just had to bring out a Firestarter?

Ugh.