Page 64 of Anomalies

Those stubborn eyes narrow. “Ravenous,” she enunciates the word slowly, then adds with an ingenuous smile, “sweetheart.”

I don’t let it rile me, even though I know that was her intention.

Ravenous, she said… If it weren’t for her heritage, I’d think she was lying, but I wouldn’t be surprised if her reserves ran leagues deeper than my own. If I properly pace myself, I can maintain magic for days without sunlight before I’m pushing my limits. But if Lucina is still ravenous?

Gods, help us all.

“Your control is good, not perfect, but good.” I flip the dagger in my hand. “How good are your reflexes?”

“Why?” she scoffs, rolling out her wrists. “Gonna throw the daggers at me now⁠—"

I pinch the tip of the blade and hurl it in her direction before she can finish speaking, and she throws herself to the side just in time. The dagger skids across the dirt, and she looks up at me wide-eyed.

“Pretty good,” I answer my own question, and palm another dagger.

“Have you lost your mind!?” she snaps, pulling herself to stand.

“Not yet.” I tilt the dagger to her, then line it up to throw. “Timing is a variation of control,” I tell her. “Jumping out of the way only works when there is space and time for you to do so.”

Lucina looks at me as if I have three heads and a death wish.

“I want you to pretend you don’t have either.”

Her brows furrow. “Soo… you want me to…”

“Stop the blade before it slices that pretty face of yours.” I hurl another dagger, and she dodges it, her feet kicking up dirt as she falls. “You’re scared.”

“Who the fuck wouldn’t be?” she shouts back. It seems that anger rises in her the same way it does in me, rocking my vision and pumping blood into my ears. Angry is exactly where I need her.

“Don’t be scared.” I throw another, but this time she isn’t quite fast enough, and the blade grazes her upper arm— blood trickling down through the small slice.

Fury, unlike anything I’ve ever witnessed, burns in those honeyed eyes.

There she is. There’s that fire.

I keep my eyes pinned on hers, releasing enough magic to gather the gleaming metal. “Those knives you carried,” I breathe, making sure my shields are locked in place, “is this how you defended yourself? By dodging?” I throw another, and she cracks the lid on her ravenous power, knocking the dagger off its course.

The blade stabs the hard earth and vibrates with the force she used to pin it there.

But her feet didn’t move.

“Good,” I tell her.

“Fuck you,” she growls.

I pinch the blade of the next dagger and throw it. “Who were you running from?” I ask, and the blade is ripped from the air before it can hit, clattering to the ground on the far side of the ring.

“None of your fucking business.”

“A friend?” I throw another.

“An enemy?” Another.

“Stop,” she snarls, knocking them all from the air. Her power eats through the space between us— a ravaged beast having been forced into a corner and only given two choices. Life or death.

I pinch the end of the last dagger, a heartbeat passing before I set it free.

“Family?”