As I pushed it back into place and brushed my hands off on my jeans, I caught a shock of blond hair out of the corner of my eye. I jumped back, startled as Nik raised his hand to knock on the open doorway.
“I didn’t mean to startle you…” he started, his other hand hidden behind his back.
“It’s ok, I was just surprised, that’s all. I’m a little on edge,” I replied with a tight smile.
“I can only imagine.” He stepped into the room, his boots heavy against the hardwood floors. “I know you might not want to train with me, or have anything to do with me at all, but I have something for you.”
My brow furrowed in confusion. “What is it?”
He pulled his hand from behind his back, and in his palm was the most beautiful dagger I had ever seen…not that I had seen that many daggers.
The blade was polished silver with intricate metal designs on the handle, a beautiful golden gem set in the hilt. It was small and light, easy to wield for someone with not a lot of strength, but plenty of speed.
“Small, but deadly. Kind of like someone else I know…” Nik swallowed hard as he met my gaze, a muscle feathering in his jaw. “I had this made for you.”
“When?” I asked, my voice small as I reached out for the dagger.
My skin lightly brushed against his as I clasped my hand around the hilt, sending a shock of energy up my spine.
“When you were in the Stormvault. I never had any doubt that you would get out, and that when you did, you would need this.”
The dagger was incredibly lightweight and small enough to carry easily on my thigh. I turned it over in my hand, testing the weight of it in my palm.
Nik had this made…specifically for me. A lump formed in my throat and I tried my hardest to swallow it back down. Ididn’t want to feel any type of emotion towards the dagger, but I had to admit it felt like it cut right through the shield I was trying so hard to keep in place.
I met his gaze, and a soft smile creased his lips.
“Thank you.”
“You’re quite welcome.” He shrugged, burying his hands in his jean pockets. Almost as if he were…nervous. “You know, every good blade needs a name.”
“Does this one have a name?” I asked, running my finger carefully along the blade.
“I was thinking…Stormslayer. Like its wielder.” The corner of his lip turned up as if he wanted to smirk, but he stopped himself, his eyes on his boots.
“Stormslayer. I like it.” I nodded, my eyes on the blade. I could feel his gaze fall on me and I swallowed hard, heat filling my core. “And the golden gem…” I said, running my fingers delicately across it, “it looks like flames.”
“It does. Just make sure to use the pointy end,” he replied.
I reluctantly met his gaze, where I found an unreadable expression.
“I will,” I replied with a soft smile.
My throat was thick with emotion as our eyes remained locked a moment too long. He had been thinking of me theentiretime. He had planned my escape with Puck, Liss, and Zion, and he had this weapon forged specially for me.
Not for asecondthinking I would be stuck down in the Stormvault forever.
Or dead.
I had accused him of not caring, of bringing me straight into Donika’s clutches and forgetting all about me. Of lying to me and betraying me in the worst way imaginable, only to leave me down in the Stormvault to rot.
But I wasn’t sure if that was true anymore…and I wasn’t ready to admit that to myself…and face the alternative.
Imet Isaac in a field not far from Dragon’s Hollow where our new safe house was located. It was on the outskirts of the city, a narrow meadow with vibrant green grass wedged between the farthest reaches of the city and the dense forest beyond.
I had been too scared to touch my magic since leaving the Stormvault, and I hoped when I finally did, it felt as easy as it once had. I was excited to be training with another Stormshade, someone who could provide unique insight into my specific type of magic.
A part of me had been avoiding my magic because it reminded me of Nik, and those thoughts quickly dissolved into visions of him pressed against me in the tiny closet of the stone cottage in Siraleth. His leg between mine, tangled in the sheets at Eight Bells.
