Page 46 of The Blood Rites

“Everyone needs alliances in here, Luceris.”

An alliance. With him. I don’t think so. I really would be a rabbit in a snare.

“What are these marks?” he asks, his brow furrowing.

I shrug, but the movement is awkward.

He drifts over to the crack and crouches, running a finger along the golden veins. “Did you do this?”

I shake my head too quickly. “It’s just a few cracked stones; this place is old.”

He looks back at me. The arrogance is gone, replaced by something like awe.

“My shadows can’t mark this place,” he says.

Shadows engulf his fist as he strikes the floor hard enough to rattle my teeth. But there is no dent, not even the faintest mark.

He looks at me pointedly. “But somehow, your light has.”

I want to laugh, to make a joke out of it, but fear swallows the attempt. I just stare at the cracked veins of gold, shame curling low in my stomach.

Kael stands up and squares his shoulders, stretching his hands towards the wall. Tendrils of shadow blossom from his fingertips, alive and wriggling. Their deadly thorns lash at the stone, trying to slice and tear. But the shadows dissolve into nothing on impact.

“Nothing,” he says, voice rough with disappointment. “Not even a scratch.” He shakes his head, irritated.

“What were you hoping to achieve?” I ask, unable to resist. “Did you want to ruin this place?”

He looks at me, dark amusement flickering in his eyes. “I wished only to see if I could.”

We stare at each other. The silence between us waits.

Kael drops into the desk chair and stretches out his long legs. He looks like he owns the room already. Planting his feet, he folds his tattooed arms across his chest, signalling he has no intention of leaving.

“Why are you doing this to me?” I ask, quieter now, as fear reasserts itself.

He seems to consider my question. “I want to know what you are. This was no accident.” His eyes are hungry for answers.

I shake my head. “I told you, they’re just cracks.”

“Do not lie to me!” he snaps, the edges of his irises pulsing with black smoke.

“I don’t know,” I stutter. “I just... it happens when I’m scared or overwhelmed or—” I almost say something I wouldn’t be able to take back, so I swallow it. “I—I can’t control it.”

He leans forward, elbows on his knees, face suddenly close as the light catches his eyes which have now returned to normal. “More lies,” he says. “That’s not how Mana works. It’s like breathing.”

He tilts his head, taking the measure of me. His hair falls across his forehead.

“You’re hiding something and I intend to find out what it is.”

I gulp, my throat suddenly dry.

I force a laugh, but it cracks. “Maybe where you come from. But it’s not the same for us. We are suppressed with Inhibitium from childhood. The moment our wrists can take a band, we are shackled and bound.”“Do not proceed to tell me of suppression, Luceris. I am a Prince; I have shackles of my own.”

I blanch. I didn't mean to offend.

“I’m sorry,” I say immediately, my heart rate spiking.

“Always so polite,” he says, a hint of that wicked smile pricking at the corners of his mouth. “You need to find a way to control your power Luceris—this one you claim you do not have. This is not a game. When the trials begin, so will the killing and there will be no mercy.”