Wilder holds out his palm, face up, until the hilt of the dagger meets it. “Close, human, but not close enough.”
“Maybe I’m taking it easy on you.” I shove my chin up when he starts to walk toward me.
“If you could figure out how to use your magic, I’d have no doubt that would be the case. But I suggest you don’t actually kill me, no matter how badly you want to.” He grabs my wrist, and my skin prickles at his touch as he sets the dagger in my hand.
“Why? Isn’t it my right to kill you since I’m the only reason you’re here right now?”
“I suppose. That is, if you have a death wish yourself.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The Rite has rules, like anything else with the gods. Until we fulfill our promise, we’re all tied. You… me… Malachi.”
“Tied how?”
Wilder steps closer, and even if he doesn’t lift a hand, I feel him on my cheek, drifting a lick of magic over my freckles.
“If one of us dies, we all do. Why do you think Malachi hasn’t made a move and tried to slaughter me in my sleep?”
“Because he’d rather wait and watch you lose to him in the Rite?”
Wilder’s golden eyes darken. His pupils drink some of the gold the longer I stare into them. “Ask your king if you don’t believe me. That is, if you can believe him. Either way, you’re stuck with me for at least a little while longer, Starfire. Like it or not, you can’t kill me.”
With a final brush of magic on my throat, Wilder turns and walks away.
Chapter 14
Elorie
Callum liftsoff the wall when I walk into the palace, and it takes every bit of strength in me to pretend I’m not aching all over. After Wilder finally left me alone with Greer, we trained until I couldn’t see straight. My spine will be bruised from how many times I landed on my back, and my lungs are on fire.
Still, not a flicker of magic appeared in the ring today.
Guards circle us, ready to walk me back to my room. The security should be comforting, but it isn’t when I know they’re probably reporting my every move to the king.
“I’m guessing training didn’t go well?” Callum’s gaze pauses on my ankle when I limp a step.
“I don’t have the energy to fight with you, Callum.”
“Then don’t.” He reaches for my arm, pausing us in the hallway, and I notice the guards give us a little more space. “Let me be your friend right now. Fight with me later.”
The urge to tell him to screw off is strong, but I don’t have it in me to fight with him through my exhaustion. “Fine.”
Warmth swirls from his fingers. A breeze as hot as the breath of a fire encircles us. It wraps around me, noteasing my pain, but relaxing me, nonetheless. On Alyssium, he couldn’t wield his magic, so I’ve never experienced it firsthand.
Or so I thought.
But strangely, his magic feels like him in every way. An extension of the Callum I’ve always known. Comforting. A reminder of home.
“I can walk.” I pull back when he offers me his arm.
I’m already at a disadvantage being a human surrounded by Fae. My half-Fae heritage offers me little in the form of strength or heightened senses. The last thing I need is another example of my weaknesses when I’m surrounded by the king’s guards.
Callum frowns but lets it go.
“How is it having access to your magic again?” I ask Callum as the guard leads me toward my room.
With every step, my ankle aches.
