Page 17 of Court of Twisted Angels

She hesitates for only a heartbeat before moving. Her steps are measured, precise. The void trap whistles as she passes, hungry for a misstep that never comes.

"Good." I fight a smile as I watch her. "Keep going."

An arc of pure energy sizzles over her head as she drops and rolls. The scent of ozone fills the air, magic crackling against ancient stone. Other candidates press against the far wall, their faces pale with fear or awe - I care little which.

"Up. And stop hesitating."

This time she leaps, her hand finding the crystal orb with uncanny accuracy. Raw power courses through the chamber as she channels the magic to stabilize herself. Impressive. Most humans would have been thrown back by now.

But I'm not done testing her limits. Not by far.

Her next move leaves me breathless. The little bird twists through a complex lattice of magical energy, her body arcing between three pulsing barriers that would have incinerated a lesser candidate. Magic ripples around her in waves of azure and gold, responding to her innate power in ways I've never seen from a human before.

Pride swells in my chest, foreign and unwelcome. My fingers tighten on the ornate railing of the observation platform, its cold metal grounding me against these... feelings. What am I doing?This human is nothing but a means to an end, another stepping stone toward breaking my family's curse.

And yet, I want to see her do well.

"Thread the needle," I command, my voice rougher than intended. "Feel for the obstacles."

She moves like liquid shadow, navigating the deadly maze with a grace that speaks of something beyond mere training. The air grows thick with magical residue, making it harder to breathe.

Or perhaps that's just the effect she has on me.

Ridiculous.

I force my thoughts back to the mission, to generations of my noble bloodline wasting away under this curse. I cannot afford distractions, no matter how captivating they might be.

This time when she finishes, I take the blindfold off of her. "You didn't quite impress me," I lie, desperate to maintain distance. "I want to see you do it again."

I send her back to the platform where all the traps and barriers now move, all follow and track her. Let's see how well she does when the magic is focused on her.

Unsurprisingly, she executes a perfect pivot between two void traps, her magic harmonizing with the ancient wards in a display that sends shivers down my spine. Raw power dances across her skin like starlight, and for a moment - just a moment - I forget about curses and artifacts and family obligations.

"Enough." I lower my hand, and the magical barriers dissolve into mist.

She turns to me, chest heaving from exertion. Sweat gleams on her skin, and residual magic crackles in the air around her like lightning before a storm. The other candidates whisper among themselves, their voices echoing off the chamber's ancient walls.

"Your performance was..." I pause, searching for words that won't reveal too much. "Acceptable. Your control over void magic shows promise."

I step forward, extending my hand toward her shoulder - almost without thought. I want to touch her, to praise her, and I don't even know why.

The moment my fingers near her skin, she jerks backward. Those green eyes wide with terror, like a wounded animal facing down a predator. Her chest heaves as she shifts into a defensive position and it all happens so fast that I'm shocked.

The rejection hits harder than any physical blow. My hand falls to my side, fingers curling into a fist.

But now it all makes sense. Why she stepped away from every xaphan who came too close to her. How she didn't want me to touch her when we were flying - even when I caught her she was out of my arms right after.

My eyes drift to the scar on her neck. I knew instantly it was from magic, and now I must assume it was from a xaphan. The curse pulses against my chest, as if laughing at my moment of weakness.

"Kyrie-"

She shakes her head. "Just don't…" She heaves another breath but straightens. "Don't touch me."

I swallow hard, nodding. "Got it. No touching."

It shouldn't hurt me that she says that like I'm her enemy, like she can't trust me. Because she can't. And I need to remember that.

I findmyself hovering around the arena now instead of going home. Even though Kyrie has left to shower and rest, I'm still walking the tunnels.

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