Page 67 of Prince of the Phantom Sky

Raiden raised a single brow. “Oh? Do tell us.”

“I want to know more about my past. If I’m not going to be able to remember the normal way, then at least tell me.” Kora raised her chin as all three males stared at her.

“K, I’m worried it could be used against you. She could use the information against you. The healers told me she’s capable of warping your reality. That you told them you sometimes . . . see things.” Aerion’s admission hung in the air, and Aryn’s neck cracked from shock. Kora bristled, regretting revealing the murky memories to Sirona, and Altha, the head healer.

At the time, everything had been so confusing, so painful. The healer’s daily visits were the only constant, and in a moment of panic, she’d revealed that she wasn’t sure if they, too, were real. Not when her nightmares bled into reality.

Even now, Kordelia’s presence lurked. Little pockets of shadows coalesced in the ceiling, dripping down the walls as Kora’s hand twitched, her mind yelling at her to eliminate any threat. That these males knowing her slowly evaporating control would result in her locked up in a dungeon like Hector wanted.

“Breathe, Huntress.” Raiden’s stare flickered to her tremoring hands as he breathed slowly. Kora mimicked his breathing, only just noticing dark circles around his eyes. Had he not been sleeping? His brown skin glowed, glistening with a light sheen of sweat, and his stance waned slightly, like standing upright was effort.

“I’m fine,” Kora responded blandly, ignoring the darkness dancing in the background. That’s not real. “I’m in control.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Aryn pouted. “We can help you.”

“There’s nothing to tell. I’m in control. Like Raiden said, Kordelia will eventually disappear in my mind. All I need is time.” Kora sighed. “Please. I need to know. I’m tired of not knowing.”

“I have an idea,” Raiden’s smile seized her, the darkness fading completely, and Kora nibbled her lip. “Every time you beat us in training, we’ll tell you something about your past.”

Kora waited for Aerion to object, but he simply smiled in return. “You have to be able to pin us for three seconds.”

“I’m sensing a disadvantage here,” Kora narrowed her eyes at them. Aryn chuckled and rotated his shoulders.

“Scared, Huntress?” Raiden taunted.

Kora took in the three males, and gulped as they advanced at the same time.

The first week of training had been gruelling. Long hours spent sparring until Kora dragged herself to the infirmary to check on Erick. She’d fallen asleep down there multiple times, waking the following morning with a blanket draped over her, assumably from Sirona as Erick’s main healer. Whilst their conversations had been brief, Kora had been warming slowly—extremely slowly—to the wild healer, grateful for Sirona’s care of Erick.

Aryn had been her main opponent during their sessions, whilst Aerion and Raiden observed, making note of the empire’s core tactical techniques. The longbow discarded, Aryn had been a fury of blades, surprising Kora when she instinctively knew how to react, her core thrumming with a strange warmness.

He was still her firefly in the darkness, a small golden spark that lit her way. Even when his strength superseded hers, when she was flat on her back from exhaustion, Aryn always picked her back up.

She hadn’t pinned him once. Not a single fucking time. Frustration continuously boiled beneath her skin that they were lording her past over her. Aerion had made it clear he thought it was a risk, and this way, he could manage the information she could glean.

Every time Aryn’s eyes had glowed golden, her stepping would falter, and her defences weakened as she struggled to comprehend his abilities. He still hadn’t revealed them, and she noticed Raiden even seemed nervous when his eyes started to glow. But Aerion . . . something within him lit up whenever Aryn was in motion.

Kora leapt as Aryn once again dove for her right side, his sharp dagger narrowly missing her flank. She panted as she ran around the ring, desperate to create space between them. Sweat soaked her leathers, and she’d already discarded her jacket as the sunset bathed the room in a hazy golden glow.

This was nothing like sparring with Blake.

These males knew she would never be able to pin them.

Her heart hammered, and she was sure she would collapse soon from the way her legs wobbled, sickeningly similar to how she felt from rationing at sea. Lungs screaming for a break, she entered another series of attacks with Aryn, who had hardly broken a sweat.

“Duck!”

Kora released a small growl as Raiden urged her from the edge of the ring. His voice had been relentless in her mind, constantly pushing her as Aryn teased her around the ring. Even now, a small smile played with his lips as he twirled a dagger.

“Come on, Captain, I know you’ve got more in you.”

“Don’t use it.”

Kora rolled her shoulders. Raiden had put her on strict magic rest for two weeks, and she was to focus on training, eating, and sleeping. Only one of those things had been going well. Sleep evaded her most nights, nightmares taunting her from the shadows. Agatha had not graced her dreams again since that encounter. She was sure Kordelia’s laugh visited her whenever she closed her eyes for slumber, closely followed by Barron’s claws of magic across her mind.

Food was the only good thing going for Kora right now. Endless sweet and savoury dishes, ranging from simple, light pancakes, to exotic spiced fish and succulent vegetables. She’d filled out her clothes in the past week alone, familiar muscle she’d spent a decade working hard for returning, toning her body into something she recognised.

Kora wheezed, unable to form words as Aryn went for her again, his smile disappearing as Kora barely managed to block his attack, her arms trembling violently. The daggers she held were simple, the sleek metal light yet unbalanced in her hands. Pommels carved from moonstone kept slipping in her sweaty palms.