Jasce has mastered his fire. Surely, there must be a way for me to learn about this silver magic entwined within me.
There has to be an answer somewhere in these pages, hidden like a pearl within an oyster’s rough shell. I just have to find it.
A passage catches my eye, and I lean closer, my heart thudding with anticipation.“The bearer of Aigis Siphoning wields a rune of profound power. Through this conduit, they may draw forth the magic of another, siphoning it away as one might draw poison from a wound.”
A tight sensation squeezes around my chest at the thought of robbing someone of their magic. But is this truly an abomination, as my mother claimed?
The text continues:“This stolen essence may then be wielded once against any foe.”
Maybe that’s the part she hates. Being able to use crimson magic.
But she doesn’t know that I already have crimson magic. I only told Asha.
I sigh, mark my place with a folded piece of parchment, and set the book next to me.
Now that I’m with Jasce, and in crimson territory, I doubt there is anyone who can teach me about Aigis Siphoning. And even if I did learn, how would I get the rune required to siphon magic?
I worry my bottom lip between my teeth. It all seems hopelessly complicated.
Still, I won’t give up. If there is more information in the book Emerin gave me, I will discover it. Then, I will worry about the next part—learning to wield Aigis Siphoning.
ChapterTwenty-Seven
ANNORA
The sun streaksthrough the window, casting warm ribbons of light across the stone floor of the bedchamber.
I reach for the man who should lie next to me, but he’s not there. I blink and sit up as Jasce steps into the room, wearing a fitted surcoat. His black pants disappear into polished boots, and his hair is damp as though he just bathed.
He crosses the room and sits on the mattress next to me. “Marry me.”
“Marry you?” I ask, my words still slurred with the remnants of sleep.
Tenderly, he tucks wayward strands of my sleep-tousled hair away from my face and nods. “Yes. Marry me, Annora. Be my wife.”
My heart leaps inside my chest as I take in his devastatingly handsome face. The morning light glints in his gold-flecked eyes. His sculpted lips quirk into a hopeful smile. And his angular jaw clenches with barely restrained emotion.
“Yes, Jasce,” I say, knowing I want nothing more than to be this man’s wife. “I will marry you.”
Another smile breaks across his mouth as he leans down and swoops me into his muscular arms. “I knew you would say yes.”
I push against the hard wall of his chest in mock protest. “Has anyone ever told you that you are very arrogant?”
“Yes. You.” His eyes spark with humor. “Yet, you agreed to marry me anyway. So, I can’t be that bad.”
I roll my eyes, but don’t argue. He’s right, after all.
He carries me across the room, where he deposits me in front of the washing stand. “Hurry and change. The priestess is already waiting for us.”
“You spoke to her before I agreed to wed you?”
He shrugs. “I told you. I knew you would say yes.”
In an impulsive move, I dip my hand into the basin of rose-scented water, gather a small handful, and fling it at his face. The water splashes across his bronzed skin and drips down his chin.
He laughs and swipes it away. “Trying to get out of the wedding already?”
I gather more water in my palms and allow it to trickle between my fingers. “Maybe I’ve changed my mind.”
