As the last student leaves, I release her, taking a step back. “Let’s talk, as you’re so adamant we finally do.”
She pushes herself off the desk with a huff and turns to me.
“I hate you.”
“Likewise,” I say flatly. “We’re not five. So, allow me to be perfectly clear, not to soothe your fragile feelings, but so we can finally move forward without more of your tantrums.”
“Your beliefs are a lie. A fabrication.” I don’t soften it. She doesn’t deserve a softened version.
Her eyes narrow. “So, myveryeyes lie?”
“What did your eyes see, witch?”
“Beasts,” she hisses. “Came from the shadows. A dragon tore through the roof of our temple.Youwere upon its back. Do you mean to say I imagined that? That your dragon didn’t slaughter my sisters? That you didn’t leave me behind? You left me…and killed the one person I loved.”
Her voice breaks. The fury in her eyes twists into something almost sorrowful, grief made brittle by years of silence.
Her accusations, however true, cause my own frustration to rise. She practically takes her finger and digs it into deep wounds that I have been trying to heal for years. “Millicent,” I snap. “I’m six years older than you. I was eleven.” The words punch out of me before I can check them. I didn’t mean to raise my voice, but she won’t stop picking at this. “What was I going to do?” I bark. “Think, damn it! How would I, an eleven-year-old, have summoned a dragon? Or slaughtered half of a coven?”
“You were always strong. I obviously don’t know the logistics, but your excuse? Someone forced you onto a damn dragon? Someone else killed everyone?” She scoffs, already dismissing anything I might say.
“Millicent, why would I hurt you? Or your mother?” My voice is steel. It’s not sorrowful or pleading, just honest. “Especially you,” I add. “You had your mother. All I had was you.”
Her chest rises sharply, breath picking up. Rage and pain churn in the depths. “Why not?” she snaps. “You’re a mage. Killing my kind is in your blood. You were growing stronger; maybe you just wanted more.”
I laugh, growing cold and sharp. “Then let me show you that night.”
She doesn’t respond right away. Skepticism hardens her features. She knows letting me in means being vulnerable, which is something she’s never been comfortable with, at least not around me.
“I won’t snoop,” I reassure her. “You have something in there guarding you anyway.”
“I don’t trust you. No.” She lifts her chin in stubborn defiance born out of self-preservation.
I need this wall between us to break, at least enough for this hostility to end and for us to function. Her attempt on Kalix’s life was too close of a call.
Slowly, I slide my hand to my thigh. I grip the hilt of my dagger and draw it free.
I flip the blade and offer it to her, handle first. It’s my first attempt at trying to make some sort of peace between us. We will not survive the North and Millicent’s revenge.
“Hold it to my throat.” I say quietly. “If you feel me prying, you can slit it. You and I both know I won’t be able to react fast enough if I’m in the memory. You’ll have the advantage.”
She snatches the dagger from my hand, and the blade slices across my fingers. I ignore the pain. My body’s already working to mend the wound. Arcana rushes beneath my skin to stitch the flesh back together.
She’s a predator. Show pain or a hint of weakness, and she’ll sink her teeth in. I still only half believe she won’t slit my throatjustto see what happens. Not that it matters. If she does, Vryaxis will be here in seconds. The dagger was never about risk; it is about control. Let her feel she has some.
I return to my desk, sitting this time so that we’re eye to eye and without the looming dominance of me towering over her.
Another calculated gesture. Another illusion of equality.
She approaches hesitantly until she’s standing between my legs. Her scent hits me—jasmine and vanilla—curling up into my lung like smoke. I grip the desk behind me to keep my hands where they belong.
Cool steel touches my throat.
“We have been here before,” I murmur. “Though I’ll admit, I prefer the view of you underneath me.”
“You talk entirely too much.” She pushes the blade harder.
Tempting.
