Page 75 of The Edge of Darkness

We had forged a bond in such a short amount of time that there was no questioning it was fated. I needed him as much as he needed me, and in that moment, I felt like I was in my brother’s arms, and the feeling tore at my heart as much as it mended it.

Everything I’d been feeling suddenly bubbled up to the surface all at once. So, I gripped onto the straps under Remic’s shoulder blades, and cried. His wings folded around me, and he held me close as all my emotions came pouring out.

When I’d shed every drop of salt I needed to, I dried my eyes, and we stood in content silence, watching the stars shoot across the night sky for what felt like hours, his wing still tucking me into his side.

Sleep finally beckoned, and he walked me back to Niall’s private quarters and bid me good night.

I slipped back under the covers, feeling lighter and more at ease. And once Niall’s arms slid around me, I fell into a sleep so deep, there was no room for dreams or nightmares.

There was just peace.

The following day, it stormed for hours on end, making training with Roirdan an interesting and challenging feat.

Against my better judgment, I trained with him high in the mountains at the open-air temple ruins where we always practiced.

I flinched as lightning splintered above, while Roirdan simply laughed, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he crooked a finger and enticed me to attack again.

We had been working on combining my power with my sword skills, while alternating the use of my shield when needed. But I was also learning how to protect myself with my light, sending pulses of it out to not only attack or stun, but to block and deflect.

Down in the catacombs of Benmoor, I struggled with falling into a rhythm of switching back and forth through my abilities, and I wanted to be able to interchange them as effortlessly as any of the Trium did.

I spun, the shorter pieces of my hair flinging like wet scraps of cloth across my face, the rest of its length wrapping around my waist. When I found Roirdan in my line of sight again, I jabbed out with my dagger—the one he’d gifted me.

He blocked it with ease, and I grunted in annoyance.

I used my wrist to wipe the water out of my eyes every few moves. Roirdan had insisted we practice without shields, saying that in a real fight, when I needed to conserve energy, I would have to focus on my power without letting the weather get to me.

His voice rang out above the drenching rain. “In battle, and in war, the fighting will last until either your enemy’s breath gives out, or yours does. And you will have an entire battlefield of enemies.”

A seemingly endless fight, I thought to myself.

I recalled how the seven-minute round in the king’s tournament seemed like a lifetime. Enduring an entire battle? That would be a different type of challenge.

I needed to be ready.

Roirdan lunged, and I spun again, switching the dagger to my other hand mid-turn. He dodged another of my attempted strikes.

I saw his hand clench before he opened it and thrust it toward me, sending a bolt of lightning from his fingertips. I threw up my hand, letting a pulse of my power meet it. Lightning met starlight and collided with a crackling thunderclap that shook the stones beneath us.

“Again!” he yelled through the driving rain.

He came at me with his sword arm, swinging downward with his full force. I brought my forearm up in front of my face, pushing out my physical shield and deflecting his blade. It clattered off of the invisible barrier like a stone skipping on ice.

I shot forward as he recovered, but he spun out of the way, laughing as my dagger missed where I’d aimed at his chest. So, I pictured his ankles in my grasp and swiped my hand from left to right in front of me. Both his feet were swept out from under him on my silent command, and I leapt on top of him, bringing my blade to his jugular.

He grinned up at me, blinking the rain from his eyes and spitting the water off his lips. “Fuck. I keep forgetting about that little trick.”

“Then I’m using it correctly,” I said, pushing off of him. I offered him my hand to help him stand, and he took it, nearly pulling me back down on his way up.

He clapped me on the shoulder, the sound making a wet slap against my sopping leathers. “That’s enough for the day. This storm isn’t going to let up anytime soon anyway.”

“But what if I like training in this deluge?” I practically yelled as thunder rolled above.

Another voice rumbled from the other side of the temple ruins. “Then you’ll have your wish.”

I whipped around to find Niall standing in the rain, Death’s Whisper in hand, the flat edge of the black blade resting on his shoulder.

“That’s my cue,” Roirdan said, giving me a bow and vanishing.