Page 136 of Facade

We hovered—then he surged toward me. I thrust my hands out, twisting the storm winds into a violent gust that slammed into him. His wing buckled. I forced another wall of air, sending him spiraling to the ground. His bellow of rage cut through the thunder surrounding us until he crashed below.

I landed hard, the ground shuddering beneath my power. He scrambled, the breath knocked out of him.

I unsheathed the two swords at my back.

His eyes widened.

My jaw tightened as I fought to contain the anger and hatred within myself.

Watka, my mentor and father figure, was the reason I could lock away the darkness that festered within me. His voice broke through the fog in my head now—

“Rage only lives in you because you feed it. Therefore, you must starve it. Suffocate it. Until you can strengthen your mind to do that, physical exhaustion can distract you. Some are born with a kernel already blackened from their surroundings. Others like you, young Ryker, are only covered in shadow. Let us shine light on it.”

So he trained me, both in fighting and in the mind. Saved me from myself.

I approached Aiden, swords drawn. Still gaping for breath, he fumbled for his own.

Aiden’s mother did this. She sowed this seed of hatred in him.

Had Watka not found me that day, my rage would have claimed me. But I listened, and I learned. Chose a different path. Maybe, he could too.

He flailed his sword toward me as he finally dragged in a breath.

"Those powers were supposed to be mine!” he screamed raggedly, swinging with whatever strength remained.

I barely had to brace my arm to deflect it.

“You’ve stolen everything from me!” Another swing. Another deflect as I gained ground, our swords locking.

“No, Aiden,” I snarled. “This power was never meant to be ours. Your mother tried to force it onto you for her own twisted agenda.” Steel hissed between us, the sleet like tiny daggers against my skin. “The universe just righted a fucking wrong by keeping it from you,” I growled low and vicious right as a flash of silver caught my eye—too late.

He lodged a dagger in my side, just below my rib cage. I hissed as I stumbled back, my swords loosening. I ripped the dagger free, clamping a hand over the wound to staunch the flow of blood.

His eyes flared with malice—he thought he’d won.

Aiden came for me, sword raised.

I gritted through the pain of that gaping wound and dropped low, whipping out my spiked tail, slicing the back of his knee, straight through the tendon. He went down.

I was on him within seconds, as I dropped one sword, my fist connecting with his face, the crunch of bone echoing in my ears. I slammed his arm on the frozen ground. Bone snapped. His sword clattered free as he thrashed beneath me, screaming at me. Cursing me.

He roared as he landed an uppercut to that wound. Blood gushed hot, soaking the fabric over my hip—it barely registered as I hauled him to his knees. Rain hammered down on us, thunder clapping so close that the hair stood on the back of my neck.

I slammed my knee into his face.

Crunch.

He snarled, his teeth crimson.

“It didn’t have to come to this, Aiden. You chose this,” I roared over the thunder.

“You made me this!” he snarled back.

“I didn’t make you anything. Your mother did. You can still turn from this path. You can—”

Aiden lashed out with both clawed hands, pushing me.

I stumbled.