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Thea fought the urge to step back.What now?
‘Tell me that’s not what I think it is,’ he glowered when he reached her, pointing at her hip.
Frowning, Thea looked down.
There, Malik’s dagger hung from her belt.
‘Tell me that’s not Naarvian steel, that it’s not the dagger that got you into this mess in the first place,’ the Guild Master demanded.
Thea recoiled but did not yield a step, her heart hammering. ‘I can’t tell you that, Sir…’
Spit gathered at the corners of Osiris’ mouth, his nostrils flaring. ‘The last time a female touched a sacred blade, chaos rained down on Thezmar,’ he raved. ‘Naarvian steel in the hands of womencalls the darkness. How do we know it wasn’tyouwho lured the wraith from the Veil?’
Wilder stepped forward. ‘Because I gave the dagger to her,’ he growled. ‘I watched as she carved out the monster’s fucking heart. ’
‘Then she isyourresponsibility, Hawthorne. You’re the Warsword who placed a Naarvian blade in the hand of a woman.The tide will turn when her blade is drawn. A dawn of fire and blood.You alone will be held accountable.’
‘So be it,’ Wilder said. ‘I vouch for her.’
A look of triumph spread across the Guild Master’s face. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘Then I hereby announce Althea Zoltaire as Wilder Hawthorne’s apprentice.’
WILDER HAWTHORNE
Wilder dragged Thea from the Great Hall, desperate for somewhere to talk to her in private. He settled for the broom closet he’d found her in weeks ago, half bleeding to death. With a shudder, he realised that her blood still stained the stone floor.
‘Wilder?’ Thea stared up at him in confusion as he shut the door behind them.
He was being irrational, hauling her away like this, but he had to talk to her. If they could just get on the same page, everything could still work out for them, the magic, the apprenticeship - it could all be dealt with.
Ignoring the damp smell of the closet, he gripped her arms gently. ‘If we both reject your appointment as my apprentice, there’s nothing they can do. They can’t force us,’ he told her, pulse racing. All his senses seemed heightened in her presence, his insides vibrating. They could still be together, things between them could still work, just not as master and apprentice, for with how he felt about her, he couldn’t be the master she needed.
His thoughts slowed as he took in her expression. Thea’s eyes were downcast, her dark brows furrowed as she fingered that piece of jade around her neck.
‘What is it?’ he asked.
‘I don’t want to reject the appointment.’
Wilder stared at her, suddenly light-headed. ‘What?’
‘This is my last chance,’ she said, a pleading note in her voice. ‘My last chance to become a Warsword. You’re it.’
‘But we agreed —’
‘That I would nominate Torj as my mentor, which I did. But now… It’s you or no mentor at all. I only have three years to make my mark. Less.’
Wilder’s hands fell away from her. ‘Three years? What are you talking about?’
Thea’s bottom lip quivered as she placed the piece of jade, the fate stone, in his palm. ‘I’m talking about this.’
Wilder stared at the marked gem. When he had first seen it, his heart had nearly fallen through his stomach, but when he’d asked…
‘You told me this wasn’t yours…’ he said slowly, rolling it between his fingers.
Twenty-seven, the stone read, the number sending goosebumps rushing across his skin in a cold sweat.
‘I lied.’
His eyes locked to hers, pulse spiking. ‘You lied?’
