I take in the words, trying to piece them together to form some semblance of order or logic, but I can’t. My mind thrashes against everything that’s come out of his mouth, including the revelation that he’s my brother.
I don’t have a brother or any siblings. All I have is Lyle.
Lyle, who isn’t my mother and never told me about any of the magic I have.
My so-called brother continues his leisurely strut, back and forth, guarding the gate and my possible freedom.
Holding my tears back, I brush my hand over Micah’s eyes, closing them for the final time and send a small prayer, to Aslendrix maybe, to watch over him. He might have betrayed me, but he gave me the lifeline to survive in Kirrasia. He gave me Kyra.
Kyra.
My heart thuds in my chest just thinking about her and what this will do to her, regardless of anything that Micah said before he died.
All my instincts want to pull on that well of power that I was so reluctant to acknowledge, so unsure of how to wield and use.
I want to fight.
My weight shifts, and I push up, racing towards the cell door. That’s my aim. It doesn’t matter if I’ve got to go through the person standing in front of me to do that.
He adjusts, blocking me, and my right arm pulls back, ready to deliver a punch across his face as I surge past him. My knuckles connect, sending a bolt of heat up my arm with the impact.
He sniggers before rounding on me, and wrapping his arm around my waist, halting my direction of travel and sending me careering back into the wall. He’s taller than me and stronger. And has the same colour eyes as I do.
“That wasn’t very nice.”
“You murdered my friend!” I scream at him, not ready to give up. This time, I engage my brain. My foot kicks out at his knee as I elbow him in the ribs, ducking away and seeing the doorway clear.
But just as I’m about to breach the threshold, I stop.
No. I don’t stop. I’m frozen. My limbs stop moving, locked up. Immobile.
I can’t move.
What in the stars?I think the words because I can’t move my lips to speak. Panic creeps over me as I strain against the invisible force. I’m off balance, my legs in the middle of a running stride, my weight should have tipped me over by now, but I’m suspended. And I can’t feel anything.
“Well, at least you have a little fight in you. I was starting to think we’d got this all wrong. Shall I let go, or pull just a little bit more…”
My heartbeat, a moment ago so strong and fierce against everything that was happening, now feels sluggish in my chest, as if it, like the rest of me, is frozen. Or drained.
No. No, no, no.
And then, the feeling is gone. And my knees and body meet the cold stone of the cell floor.
Hard.
“Now. Will you come quietly? Or do I need to fight you all the way?”
He didn’t come here to kill me. He won’t hurt me. He just proved that. He just wants me to comply. Well, fuck him!
I jump up and sprint for the door. Again.
A whistle pierces through the air, and as I get out of the gates, two men emerge from the shadows, Kyra fighting and struggling between them.
“No!” I stop, every ounce of fight fleeing at the sight of my friend in danger. I back up, blocking the door to the cell. Because not only is she in danger, but I don’t want her to see her brother.
The sickening feeling in my stomach morphs into nerves, climbing through every fibre of my body.
“Do I have your attention, Ever?” The other men and Kyra stop in front of me.
