Page 89 of Threaded

A tendril ofsomethingbrushed down her cheeks, freezing her in place. It was both cold and warm, alive and dead, soft and hard.

She shivered and swallowed audibly, struggling to regain her composure.

“About that,” she began. “I’ve been meaning to ask you a question.”

“A question?” That dark voice was closer now, a breath against her shoulder.

“Yes.” Mariah inhaled once, pushing down the magic writhing in her own veins. She wanted the darkness in this moment; not only for her answers, to understand what she so desperately wanted to learn, but also because it feltgood. To let go of her control. To no longer be the one in command of the room.

It reminded her of the freedom she’d chased not long ago in the seedy taverns of Andburgh. A freedom she’d come to terms with never knowing herself, but she still wanted to experience whenever she could.

Another exhale, this time at her other shoulder. Ahumphof a chuckle. “Well, by all means … ask away, princess.”

Mariah swallowed again, pushing the words past her teeth before she lost her nerve.

“You are one of thereykr, aren’t you? One of the shadow-wielders from Luexrith?” Her words floated into the air as she paused for a moment before continuing. “There isn’t much that passes between the borders of the different kingdoms of the continent. But I found a book recently that spoke of those from the Northern Wastes who could speak to darkness, could wrap it around themselves and bend it to their will. It said it's not a gift from Qhohena, and was considered by many to be a curse, something evil and foul and wrong.”

A moment of silence before she suddenly noticed the darkness lifting around her, just enough to make out Andrian’s shape in front of her, his tanzanite eyes blazing and a curious expression on his face.

“Very good,nio. I was wondering when you would make the connection. Took you long enough.” Now it was his turn to pause, his head tilting slightly before he grinned, slow and cruel. “Do you think I’m cursed? That I am—how did you put it?—evil and foul and wrong?”

Mariah ignored the slight and the loaded question, only reveling in the momentary victory at gaining another piece to the puzzle that was Andrian Laurent. She shifted on her feet, cocking her own head back at him, parroting his movement.

“I think an argument could certainly be made about whether you’re cursed or not. But … no, I don’t think you are. I think not all stories we read about in books are the truth.” His expression was curious again, a strange mixture of guarded and vulnerable as she paused. “There’s just one other thing I don’t understand.”

His eyebrow lifted.

She continued. “This magic—your magic—it’s Leuxrithian. And you—you’re Onitan. Not just Onitan, but the son of a Royal Lord. So … care to fill the gaps for me?”

The shadows darkened around them again, his shape winking from her view. There was a growl somewhere in the air nearby, not quite against her skin, but close enough so she could feel the vibration through the dark.

“My father is Onitan. But my mother … my mother was Leuxrithian. Let’s just say I take after her.”

My mother was Leuxrithian.

Was.

She wanted to ask, to know the tragic story she could feel snagging in his mind, but she held her tongue.

“There’s something else you wanted to ask, isn’t there,nio? That wasn’t the last of your questions.” His voice was still a growl. The tension that pulled at him earlier now weighed heavy in the air, presumably heightened by her questions and the mention of his mother.

She thought she might hate that he could read her so easily, but truthfully, she was relieved she didn’t have to search for unnecessary words after the bit of himself he’d unintentionally revealed.

My motherwasLeuxrithian.

“You bend shadows to your will,” she began, focusing on what she was most curious about. “And my magic … it more or less bends light.” Mariah paused, searching the darkness blindly for him. “But yours seems to be so much more corporeal than mine has ever been. And I’m just curious. About how it works.”

Her vision was suddenly filled with him as he pushed into her space, the tanzanite of his eyes flooding her vision. “You want to know what my magic is capable of?”

She could only meet his gaze and nod.Yes, she thought.I want to know.

He searched her face for a few heartbeats. “You want to know … because you want to see if your magic may one day be capable of the same.”

Mariah narrowed her gaze at him. “Let’s just say that I have no interest in the parlor tricks I’m currently being taught.”

Andrian’s lip quirked up at that. “Alright,nio. I can show you how my magic works.” He fell silent, watching her, his stare heating with the passing seconds. Mariah’s breath hitched in her throat as he held her gaze, a languid heat flitting across her skin and settling low in her belly.

A part of her already knew what his words would be before he spoke them.

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