“That sounds pretty complicated.”
“Scared of a challenge?”
“No. I just?—”
“Sounds like you are.” He smirked tauntingly.
“I’m not. But I already did what you asked. I tried some harder commands and was successful. Let's just accept the victory tonight.”
A cocky grin appeared across his face. “It’s okay to be scared, Maeve. No need to lie.”
He knew exactly what he was doing.
“I’m not scared,” I growled, staring him down.
One of his shoulders shrugged. “If you weren’t scared, then you would do it.”
“Are you really trying to peer pressure me into this?”
“Is it working?” His eyes widened on me, matching my antagonistic glare.
“No. You—I—” My face scrunched and I stomped my foot down. “Fine, you jerk. Let's give it a try,” I agreed, knowing damn well it would be a mistake.
The pounding in my head didn't cease as I got back into position. I focused on the tingling in my face, using the familiar feeling to ignore the blood rushing to the surface of my skin as I harnessed my magic. “Use your magic to craft a dagger.”
Sebastian's hands got right to work, using his powers to form a blade of crystalline ice. He waved his hands like he was conducting an orchestra, crafting tiny icicles and carving details into the weapon he created.
My eyesight began to falter, tunneling into darkness for a moment before tearing me back into the arena’s bright light.
I held on to my power, only letting it go limp when Sebastian’s hand was outstretched in front of me, dripping as the weapon of ice melted from his body heat.
My vision blurred again when I reached out to take it, making me miss his hand by inches. My head pulsated, and though I could hardly see anything anymore, I made out the look of fear on his face.
“Maeve?”
I couldn't form the words to respond. I tried to grab the dagger again, but my body went slack and crumbled to the mat.
My eyes fluttered open.I rubbed the sleep away and glanced around my room.How did I get here?
The glow of the crescent moon poured over my skin as I rolled to my side in my bed. My gaze caught on Sebastian. He looked exhausted, lounging in my armchair reading a book.
I sat up and hung my legs off the side of my bed to try and stand, but his shadow appeared above me.
He looked worried. And kind of pissed.
He grabbed my legs, pulling them back onto the bed before taking his seat on the edge of the mattress. “How do you feel?”
“Um. I—” I cleared my throat. “Fine, I guess. What happened?”
“Does your head feel okay?” He peered around to the back of my skull.
“It's fine, why?” My hair crunched beneath my fingers when I felt where he was looking. There were flakes of dried blood on my hands when I pulled them back into view.
“Oh fuck.” My eyes widened as I recalled what happened.
He scooted a little closer to me. “What do you remember?”
“We were training. I compelled you to make a dagger.” I looked up at him for confirmation.
