Page 80 of Embers of Ruin

There it is again. That thread of defiance no one else seems allowed to touch. I look between them, and decide to diffuse the tension.

“Do the two of you rehearse these little moments, or is the tension naturally unbearable?”

Mazelle mutters something under her breath that I choose to believe is agreement. It did sound an awful lot like “for the love of the gods, quiet yourself”. It doesn’t bother me either way.

Onyx comes to my side, offering his arm. This time I don’t take it immediately. My hands still tremble, and my chest feels raw from whatever Thorin touched inside my mind. Pride tells me to walk away on my own. Common sense, which makes rare appearances but does exist, reminds me that I nearly collapsed after the last surge of magic and have no desire to do so in front of everyone.

I take Onyx’s arm and Thorin watches the movement through narrowed eyes. They’re still silver, swirling. I tell myself I imagine the way his shadows stir, but I know I’m not imagining it. Especially when one winds its way around my ankle, and I know it’s his way of reminding me that I am his.

CHAPTER 19

Onyx doesn’t speak until we are well into the palace corridors, far enough from the gardens that the air no longer tastes like dead leaves and old grief. His arm remains steady beneath my hand, though his body is tight with anger. I don’t mention the kiss that he watched Thorin and me share, as if we’d done it hundreds of times before. I don’t know if that’s the reason anger is radiating off of him in waves, but he interrupts my thoughts before I can ponder too long.

“You should not have attacked him, Lyra. What made you do that?”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Good to know we’re beginning this conversation with criticism.”

“He let you do that.”

The words stop me dead in my tracks. What is he talking about?

I look up at him. “What exactly do you mean?”

“The king let you attack him.”

“I’m aware, Onyx. I was there, in case you didn’t notice. It was infuriating.”

“No.” Onyx’s jaw works. “You don't understand. Thorin does not allow people to strike him. He does not allow anyone that close. Ever. Not even me, and I’m⁠—”

He stops, and I wonder what he was about to say. Why is their relationship so complicated?

I don't answer right away. It feels wrong to discuss Thorin with Onyx, and vice versa. The two of them refuse to exist separately in my mind, each carrying questions I don't want to examine too closely. After the night I had with Thorin, I have to force my thoughts away from him before warmth threatens to give me away.

“Thorin is never charitable. I’ve known him for a very long time, so trust me when I tell you—he allowed you to land that blow.”

His confession sounds too personal. Too intimate. I want to ask more questions and normally I would but this time, I don’t. Not yet. Instead, I focus on the safer wound.

“He went into my mind.”

Onyx’s expression darkens. “Yes, I was not particularly fond of that part of your training.”

“He found something I didn't know was there.” I swallow. “It's my mind. How is that possible?”

His steps slow just enough for me to notice. I stop walking and turn to face him. “You know what it is.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lyra.”

That answer comes quickly. Too quickly. So I ask another. “Do you care for me... more than you should, Onyx?”

His eyes widen for a fraction of a second. It isn't a fair question, and I know it. Neither is anything else in this palace.

He lets out a slow breath. “Yes, I do, Lyra. But it’s… complicated.”

I stare at him. I’ve spent years watching people lie. Most lies come easily. The truth—especially the kind people don't want to admit, even to themselves—takes longer.

Onyx gave me both.

I look away, suddenly regretting the question. “It doesn’t have to be.”