Page 71 of Demon Touched

“Leah.”

“I can’t talk now, Syrus,” she says, her mental voice strained as she straps her armor on. I can see the flashes of bronze through her eyes. “They’ve announced the second trial. It’s⁠—”

“I know,” I answer. “I just heard.”

“Well then,” she says. “You’ll know why I need to focus right now. We’re leaving soon, and I can’t afford any distractions.”

“Don’t go.”

She pauses, briefly closing her eyes, and a cloud of anger encircles her thoughts. “Like that. That right there is a distraction. For fuck’s sake, Syrus.”

Fear snatches at my throat, making me feel like I can’t breathe. It might’ve been centuries since I saw a battle between demons and ephilium with my own eyes, but I remember all too well the devastation they wreak. I’m beyond caring about sounding desperate right now, not when she’s about to put herself right in the middle of a slaughterhouse.

“Leah, you could die. You’ve never fought in a war before⁠—”

“We’ve been through this,” she snaps. “I’m going through with the trials. I have to if I want to stay in Aradis.”

“So don’t stay,” I say, the words spilling out in a frantic flood. “Come back to Infernum. We can go today. Just say the word.”

I don’t understand this—why she would choose this over what I’m offering. Why she would rather run toward blood and pain and death than come back to a place where I believe she was once happy, surrounded by people who care about her, who love her.

She closes her eyes again, weathering a deep, dull ache. I recognize it because I feel it too.

“I can’t,” she says, echoing the words I said to her only a few hours ago. And that’s the ache—the knowledge that you can’t do what you long to, even when you want it so badly, because it might produce a much bigger wound right at your core—one you know you couldn’t come back from.

She starts to fix her sword to her hip. It’s the final touch, and then she’ll be walking out that door.

Raw panic takes hold of me, knowing she’s going somewhere I can’t follow. I remember being forced from her mind as she plummeted to her death. I see my sister folding over as that very same blade pierces straight through, her blood spilling onto the stone floor as the light fades from her eyes.

I couldn’t reach Sideria in time. I was useless. Powerless to stop it. I vowed I wouldn’t let that happen again.

“I’m begging you.” My pride is torn to shreds, consumed by the sharp bite of terror. “Don’t go.”

“I’m sorry, Syrus.”

She takes a step toward the door, and terror surges in me. I reach my magic down through her legs and freeze them, just for a moment, stopping her from moving forward.

“What the fuck?” she demands out loud.

I immediately release her, though she could’ve probably fought my magic off anyway, and she takes a few stumbling steps. I know it was the wrong thing to do, and I try to say so.

“I’m sorry, I⁠—”

“Syrus,” she cuts me off, her tone more worrying not because of the emotion in it but because of how icy calm she sounds. “You can’t keep doing this. I won’t let you control me.”

Her words hit me like a blow to the chest as she straightens up and checks herself over once more. Then, without another word, she walks out of the room and into the second trial.

Chapter 21

Leah

My armor is heavy and stiff as I hurry to the rift point, making me feel sluggish despite my fear. I’m not used to moving like this. When I was scavenging, the goal was to be as light and agile as possible—the fastest people got the best spoils. But the only prize for me today will be surviving.

The stone arch on the academy’s fields cuts an impressive shape, rising above the fledglings arranging themselves into neat lines in front of it.

I find Rowan, pushing in behind him. “Good,” he says, glancing over his shoulder at me. “You made it. I was worried for a second there.”

He seems—not calm exactly, but not afraid. There’s a determined set to his mouth and a light in his eyes when he looks at me. I think maybe he’s a little excited.