Page 204 of Fallacies

Too focused on the others, I’m almost hit by her next strike, twin midnight black daggers slicing through the air, grazing my hip and tearing through the fabric at my ribcage. The sharp chill of it scraping against my skin is enough to shock me into action, and dark magic rips from my outstretched hands, racing across the ground, forming vicious talons sharper than any blade I’ve ever seen.

The Rogue’s pupils become black slits, her irritated eyes widening when the points of my shadows pierce the skin of her ankles, and with a sharp tug, I drag her to the ground.

She lets out a frustrated scream, scrambling to throw something back at me, and I strengthen my hold on the magic, giving it everything I have. Shadows climb her body, ripping at the fabric of her clothes, and when they slide around her neck, she must know it’s over, because her trashing in the dirt becomes more desperate.

I make it as quick as possible, too worried about everyone else to take my time, honing the dark tendrils around her neck until they're sharp enough to slice through her skin.

With a gurgled shriek, dark blood spills onto the ground, and the Rogue slumps face down in the dirt.

Pulling up more of my father’s magic, I whirl around to see who I can help.

Salem has already killed one and is fighting with the other. He snatches the largest of the Rogues by his collar, and as soon as I see him get his hands around his neck, I know there’s no point in watching.

The sickening crack of his spine rings out behind me as I turn to Pax.

The Rogue he’d been up against is bleeding out in the dirt, and he’s already moved to help Grey to his feet. I exhale a relieved breath as the former Captain stands, his movements shaky, but the wound to his leg doesn’t look fatal.

“Pax!” I call out to him, nodding in the direction the Sol took to the Banyan. I can’t see them in the distance, but they couldn’t have made it that far. If I had to guess, Devon or one of the others has blanketed their group in an illusion. “Take him to the others⁠—”

A scream to my right pulls my attention. It pulls Pax’s too.

Callan’s back is to us, and the Rogue he’s up against is…still alive.

The man is doing his best to crawl away from Callan, but bright orange flames lash out, ripping at his ankles, the hem of his robe catching fire. The Rogue screams again, kicking at the fabric in an attempt to stomp out the flames.

For every inch the Rogue scrambles back, Callan takes slow steps towards him, silently pulling daggers out of his waistband. He’s…stalking him like a predator would. He’s playing with his prey.

I surge forward. “Callan?”

He doesn’t hear me. He doesn’t even flinch.

“Callan!”

Black wisps of smoke form at the Rogue’s fingertips, but Callan does nothing but stare at the attack as it forms, his grip on his knives loose.

There’s no urgency in the way he moves, and premature victory burns in the golden glow of the Rogue’s irises.

My heartbeats slow as I move, throwing myself between them. I pull enough Rogue magic into my bloodstream that it consumes me entirely, blacking out my vision and seizing every muscle. It erupts in a sickening crack that rattles through the clearing, reducing my hearing to a high-pitched ring.

It takes a moment for my vision to clear, but the buzz of heavy magic lingers beneath my skin. It’s too much to herd back to the well at the base of my spine, so I let it stay—dark and cold in my veins.

The rocky ground where the Rogue had been is singed from Callan’s fire, and all that’s left of him is the burnt robe he’d been wearing.

I exhale a sharp breath, the burst of air audible in the dead silence that’s fallen around us.

Whirling around to face Callan, I gape at him, “What were you thinking?!”

There’s a moment, brief and absolute, where he meets my eyes. He sees me. I know he sees me. But instead of love, relief, recognition, or even heartbreak…there’s only anger. Blinding anger. It’s so jarring that I stumble back a step.

“Callan?”

He stalks forward. I’m the prey.

My heart pounds. “Callan, stop⁠—”

I barely dodge the dagger he throws at me. Barely slide to the side in time.

A rush of noise breaks out around us, but all I can see is him. The fury in his eyes. The charged violence in his body.