Page 64 of Immortal Burden

“I’m sorry.”

I froze, my glass of scotch halting just shy of my lips.

Confounding.

I had sensed his presence before he’d even set foot in the elevator of my private condo building. His heartbeat had resonated through me profoundly, increasing in intensity the closer he’d come to my penthouse. I had felt the magical veil I had in place to guard against magical attacks drop as he’d passed through it.

And yet, his arrival still had the ability to take me aback, to unsettle me significantly.

I felt his magic spark briefly, then retreat, indicating he was on edge.

I turned from the view of the cityscape, its beauty obscured by the thick blanket of night.

“No matter what, I would never harm you.” His incredibly tensed stance relaxed somewhat. “Youngling,” I added, unable to help myself.

“So, you are pissed at me. This note was pointed,” he said, holding out the piece of paper I’d scrawled on before leaving his home that fateful night, along with several vials of my blood.

Sorcerer,

Insurance for your next reckless endeavor.

Tread carefully, youngling.

Lucian.

“My next reckless endeavor? You meant the first being me forcing you to heal with my blood, yeah?”

Interesting.

I had not expected him to summon such self-awareness, at least not so quickly.

In all honesty, I hadn’t imagined him recognizing the fact that he’d committed a wrong at all.

He was easy to read. It wasn’t a part of his makeup. What had shifted in him?

Studying him curiously, the first thing I noticed was the green glow emanating from him without respite. The second was that he looked… impeccable. From his perfectly coiffed hair, to his tailored gray suit, paired with a matching tie and a black shirt made of the finest silk, down to his designer loafers.

Noticing my curiosity, he spoke, “Is it the glow, or the suit that’s freaking you out?”

His question proved rhetorical, when he didn’t give me space to answer and, instead, went on, “So, the suit… I know you believe how someone presents themselves to you is a sign of the respect they have for you.”

Hmm. I took a sip of my scotch, regarding him intently. “You came here to grovel.”

He nodded slowly, shifting restlessly, his nervousness blatantly obvious.

“And the glow… Cornelius unbound my magic earlier today. It takes a while for it to reacclimate to my body, to settle.” He gave an uneasy laugh. “It’s kind of a rush, actually.”

Every word he spoke about his magic had my anger rising rapidly.

Misreading its source, he took a step back. “I get it. You want me to go. It was rude, me just showing up here. I mean, I would’ve called, but I guess I thought—”

“Stop,” I said, holding up my hand. “My anger is with Cornelius. You said he only returned your magic to you today?”

He shrugged, but it was clear his nonchalance was feigned. The pain in his eyes spoke the truth of it. I would expect nothing less. I was aware of what having their magic taken did to a magic-wielder, especially one of Ryker’s caliber. “He tortured you.”

He looked away. “I didn’t come here to talk about that.”

It was clear that he could not, even if he had wished it. He was awash in the trauma of it.

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