The man snatched it greedily, and I made my exit from the pub. My teeth were gnashing in hatred and rage. Whether Elijah had killed Waldron or another cultist had done the job for him was irrelevant. Waldron was dead. There was no bringing him back.
And I feared more people were about to die if something wasn’t done.
Elijah might be the Hidden King, but I couldn’t touch him. Couldn’t do a damn thing. Any repercussions I could take would only result in my execution or imprisonment. Most likely execution, if I decided to take extreme measures and assassinate the future king of the Arcanea.
Though I didn’t mind sacrificing my life for the good of Malovia, I couldn’t do that to Emma. I was mated now. I had to think of other people besides myself.
And as much as I despised my cousin... I didn’t know if I had the reserve to kill him. Though I hated to admit it, there was a small part of me that still loved him. We had a history together, before he’d betrayed me. A family bond. We’d once been like brothers, closer than any two men could be.
Then everything had changed. I didn’t want his life to end. I wanted to stop him from slaughtering other people. I hadn’t asked for the burden of deciding to spare Elijah’s life, or saving the people of Malovia.
I worried one day I’d have to make that choice.
There was no proof Elijah was the Hidden King. I doubted he was any kind of prophesied one like the druids said. Most likely, he’d ran with the assumption and fooled the Black Claw into thinking he was some sort of chosen one, to get them to do his bidding.
Didn’t matter either way. If the cult thought Elijah was the Hidden King, and was willing to follow him, he could get them to do terrible things on the ruse of a fairy tale.
The prophecy said the Hidden King would kill Emma. I refused to allow that to happen. Elijah wouldn’t touch Emma. If it came down to killing my cousin or saving my mate, I wouldn’t hesitate. Elijah’s life would be mine.
Something in my gut told me I wasn’t putting all the pieces together. I didn’t know what I was missing.
Our only hope was if Elijah and Gabby failed their competency tests. My friends and I were doing everything in our power to make sure that happened, but there were no guarantees.
I heard the sound of a rock skittering across the rooftops, and looked up. There, I caught a hint of a white cloak, eyes flashing behind a silver mask.
I went to follow, but the White Rose was already gone.
Chapter Ten
Emma
Iwas getting damn tired of following Ethan around.
More than that, I was damn tired of hiding the White Rose from him.
He knew now that Elijah was proclaimed the Hidden King by the cult. He didn’t have proof Elijah had killed Waldron, but he suspected.
The reasons I had for concealing the White Rose from Ethan were dwindling away. It’d only been two months, but already, this secret was becoming more than I could bear.
At least Intro to Enchanting provided an adequate distraction. Professor Calliope was grilling us, and I didn’t have any time to think about Ethan while trying to enchant powerful objects.
“Today we’re going to be learning about the art of transference— that is, the art of storing your powers within a weapon,” Calliope instructed. “This is not an ability specific to Arcanea, though our illusion magic makes it easier for us than it is for other supernaturals. Other magical races have the ability of transference using crystals or other objects such as wands. Since fae practice forbids the use of those items, we specialize in trapping our illusion powers into our weapons; mainly, our swords.”
Kiara shifted uncomfortably next to me. Underneath her shirt lay the crystal her sister had given her. Nobody else knew she had it but me. I knew the fae taught that crystals were demonic, only used by those who practiced dark magic, but I wasn’t convinced they were evil. I had to admit I didn’t know much about them to be sure.
Calliope held up her own sword at the front of the classroom. “Storing your magic is very important. Magic users only have so much energy inside of them at a time. If one is to run out of magical energy, they’ll be rendered unable to practice spells. Worse, if one pushes themselves past the limits of their own magic, they could kill themselves. Having magic stored in your weapon for safe-keeping provides a safety net for emergencies in either of these situations.”
She placed her long sword upon her desk. “To transfer your powers into your weapon, place your hands on it. You can close your eyes, or stare at it. You must keep your focus. Imagine funneling the power inside yourself into the weapon and tucking it there, to give it a safe place to stay. Magical energy can be transferred from one source to another merely by touching, but to truly transfuse your object, you must have intent. Begin.”
I looked down. The sword Ethan had forged for me,Lodburzan, lay on the velvet table in front of us. I’d been told to bring it today. On Kiara’s side was a dagger that she’d borrowed from Professor Calliope. She grasped the hilt and narrowed her eyes, working on transference.
“You don’t have a weapon of your own?” I asked her.
Kiara shrugged. “Weapons aren’t usually given to sorceresses until their mate has forged it for them. Like with you and Ethan.”
I wiggled my eyebrows. “So how long is it going to take for Alexei to make yours?”
She slapped me on the shoulder with her free hand. “Stop! We’re not even mated.”
