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“I’m not leaving without⁠—”

“I know,” she said with a small smile. Then she was gone.

Ten

Nyah

Ididn’t want to confront Rune again quite yet. In truth, I hoped she’d come to me, now that we’d started communicating. It had been a blessing to hold on to Rivven again, but our time was painfully short. I never got to tell him my plan. Hells, I didn’t even know if it was a full-blown plan yet. But I did at least know what was possible now. What I was potentially capable of.

So, I practiced. I recreated The Shipwreck Inn, the brothel where I’d studied magic with the madame and magic worker, Lou. The three-story building surrounded the courtyard where I stood beside the single tall tree whose branches swayed slowly in the breeze. I only spent a couple of short weeks here, but they’d been monumental for my education. Not just about wielding, but about myself. Well, what I now knew was Leuruna and the trauma she’d endured at the hands of Serano.

Being abused, imprisoned, and drained of magic by her father was one thing. But to have that slimy, power hungry, bastard, Serano, take advantage of his position and rape her… I could still feel the constrictive weight of the memory, the way I’d been frozen somewhere between the past and present when the pirate I’d been sparring with caught me in the earth and groped me. It had shaken something loose inside, something that not only ended up unlocking my powers, but the memory of the attack as well.

It may not have been me, but the sensation of Serano’s hands pulling my thighs apart, the smell of anise that accompanied him, and the abject fear and horror of being trapped and unable to fight back—it was as much a part of me as it was Rune.

I hated that man as much as I hated Balram.

And I would kill them both.

With a shout, I threw out my hands and ripped apart the earth where I’d been pinned by the pirate. Then I glared up at the sky, now churning gray to match my temperament. And I reached for the other power—the one deep inside that had no name. The one I now realized Rune feared. Because if she feared it and didn’t understand it, then maybe, just maybe, Balram would feel the same.

Instead of using earth wielding to mend the disaster I’d made of the ground, I pulled on that thread. It felt more like a golden spool of light. I watched as the dirt smoothed out and grass sprouted in fast forward, along with tiny yellow wildflowers that had never been there before.

I’d used this thread before when I’d healed one of Lou’s girl’s headaches. I’d tugged on the dark tether I’d found when I concentrated and plucked it like the string of a lute.

I squinted, making my way up the step and inside to the same space where it had happened. It had been inside the door to my left at the kitchen table. Before me an array of colors between the brightest white and darkest black danced like filaments in a breeze. I understood where each one connected and what would happen if I tugged on it or pulled it a certain way. This was the fabric of the universe, and I was a seamstress.

The thought sent chills dancing down the back of my neck. My pulse quickened. If I could really control this—it was too much power. I suddenly understood why Rune was so worried about becoming like Illio and taking such ability for granted. Not that either of us would use such power to force others to bend to our will, but I recognized the draw to use this ability. I could envision all too easily enforcing what I believed to be right. But I was no god, and my judgement wasn’t unfailing. Hells, I didn’t even know if trusting my sister was the right move. I just had to believe it was.

But what did this ability mean? And where had it come from? I wished I could ask someone about it, but who would understand? The questions consumed me, and I dropped onto the floor, where a comfortable rug appeared, to curl up and think.

Rivven had said he could see the ether surround me like a light show when we were in Elvenloft. He’d told me Elves had the ability to see the ether. Was that what these light strands were?

But I was no elf. I’d come from Leuruna, and she wasn’t one either.

“You look…concerned.”

Torvo’s deep voice pulled me from my reverie, and the world around me slipped back to the reality I knew. If he was visiting, then Rune must be dreaming again. I smiled up at him as he sat across from me on the carpet that grew to accommodate his tremendous size.

“Red and black,” he commented, plucking at the fur beside him.

“Cravenbeast,” I answered with a nod. “But softer than the real thing.” I shrugged. Might as well make things the way I liked them.

Torvo nodded, expression ever serious. “I have never seen one.”

“Rivven and I had to kill one. Well, he killed it, but only because it was about to kill me.”

“Sounds like you and Rivven have quite a history.” He shifted, scooting closer. “I never had a chance to find out more.”

“Everything happened so fast.” It came out in a rush along with the tears I was getting sick of wiping away. “And I was so focused on the trials and getting close enough to kill Balram. I wish I’d gotten to know you better as well.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere. That is unless Balram decides to kill me. I hear he tends to act on whims.” Torvo’s devilish smile hid the fear behind the statement.

I shook my head. “He doesn’t, though. He thinks things through. If he kills you, it will be because he plans it. And if he wants an heir, then you are safe at least until that heir is born. Maybe until he has backups.” The calculating way I spoke twisted my stomach. But it was exactly how he thought.

Torvo squeezed the Cravenbeast skin so hard that he ended up with fistfuls of fur. “Rune is not a breeding mare. She is his daughter.”

I sniffed and pulled my knees to my chest. “Don’t I know it.”