Page 54 of Destined to the Reaper

“Is there any chance you could ask your brother Asheron to help?” I asked, hope audible in my voice. “He was seriously wronged by Cornelius as well.”

Pharos heaved a sigh as he shook his head. “My brother doesn’t know of my existence. He was born shortly after I was enslaved. Still, I doubt that would have stopped him from assisting me. And I even considered it, but he can’t. When Asheron came to recover his tail from Cornelius, my brother pledged not to harm him so long as he left his mate Ronika alone. Cornelius may be a vile snake, but he is no fool. He has not broken their agreement.”

“Damn it!” I muttered. “So what now?”

He smiled, the mischievous glimmer in his eyes piquing my curiosity.

“Now, we train you.”

I recoiled, more confused than ever. “Train me to do what?”

“We are bonded, my bride. That automatically gives you access to my regeneration powers. But now that you also have apart of me in you, it grants you additional access to most of my Death Magic,” he said smugly.

“Oh!” I whispered, my eyes widening with excitement. “By all means, train me!”

He chuckled then grabbed my arm before giving me a serious look. “Sorry about this. It’s going to sting,” he warned.

I nodded and watched with curiosity as the nail of his index finger extended into a sharp claw. He carefully raked it over the fleshy part of my forearm, making a one-inch incision. I barely winced and watched a few pearls of blood bead around the wound.

“Now pay attention,” he said. “Inside your chest, near your heart, you will feel some kind of spark. Normally it’s like a soft heat—although for some it’s a bit more like static or electricity.”

“Heat,” I replied instantly. “It’s not very strong, but I clearly feel it, and it’s rather pleasant.”

“Perfect. That’s your regeneration well. It is weak and small because your wound is as well. Try to push that little heat into your arm. Will it to go to your wound.”

I complied. Seconds later, my jaw dropped as the blood appeared to resorb into the cut, which sealed itself seamlessly, leaving flawless skin behind.

“Nine hells!” I whispered, flabbergasted. “Again!”

He burst out laughing, happiness and pride softening his beautiful features. He did it once more, but this time with a much longer gash. As he had stated, the spark in my chest felt stronger and bigger, proportional to the injury that needed to be mended. I repeated the process with the same amazing result.

“This is wonderful!” I said, my voice bubbling with excitement.

“It is. You cannot begin to understand how relieved I feel knowing that you now possess this ability,” Pharos said with a seriousness that made me melt from the inside out.

This man truly cared about me and my welfare.

“For the rest of the evening, you will need to practice that among other things so that it becomes instinctive, a reflex for you. During battle, you cannot pause to focus on healing while attacks are still launched against you. It must come to you as naturally as breathing,” he warned.

I licked my lips and nodded. During my apprenticeship as a Blood Mage, casting defensive spells on the fly had been one focus of our training. It had to become second nature to keep us from grievous harm. Your enemy wouldn’t pause to give you time to sort yourself out.

“But now, I want to show you how to deal with poison and toxins. Be warned that this will be far more unpleasant as I will infect you with the plague. Only a tiny amount in a localized area,” he added quickly when I took an involuntary step back. “It is slow acting, so you will not sustain any real harm. I just want to explain how you will counter it first so that you are ready.”

“Right,” I said nervously before rolling my shoulders to relax them.

“Whenever you are poisoned, you will feel the regeneration spark, but you will also feel the cleansing spark. To me, it glows red instead of white. But it also feels different, colder—which is counterintuitive with its color,” he said with a sheepish expression.

I snorted, finding him ridiculously adorable. “Okay, a red glow that feels cold. Got it,” I replied teasingly. “Go ahead, poison your soulmate. I’m ready.”

He scrunched his face at me, not in the least amused by my teasing. Although he was doing it to further protect me, he clearly hated causing me pain in any way. That just made me melt even more for him.

He stuck the tip of the claw of his index finger at that same spot in my forearm. He didn’t slice, simply kept it there half acentimeter in. I felt the Death Magic emanating from him a split second before he infected me with it. It instantly burned, as if a drop of acid had dropped there.

I hissed through my clenched teeth and fought the instinctive urge to yank my arm away from him. The skin around the infection spot immediately darkened. It didn’t spread at a terrifying speed, but quickly enough to have my insides in a knot. Black tendrils slowly spread outwards like spilled ink.

“Focus, my Kali,” Pharos gently said as he removed his finger.

I took a deep breath and looked inside me for that spark. Like him, it felt cold to me but also pulsated. It didn’t look red in my mind’s eye, but green. Following the previous lesson, I pushed it towards the infection site. While the regeneration spark had felt like heat gliding along my arm, this felt like an army of ants crawling all over it, but right below the surface of the skin.

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