Page 36 of Court of Twisted Angels

Azrael catches my wrists, but I wrench away. The moonlight streaming through my window illuminates the pain in his eyes, making my chest ache worse.

"I would have helped you!" My voice cracks as tears spill down my cheeks. "If you'd just told me about the gemstones, about your family - I understand desperate choices, Azrael. I'm making one tomorrow!"

"Kyrie—"

"No!" Magic surges through my band, casting wild blue shadows across the walls. "You didn't trust me enough to tell me the truth. Instead, you manipulated me, used our training sessions to—to what? Keep me compliant? Make sure I'd be useful when the time came?"

His wings curl forward, trying to shield us both, but I shove against them. The soft feathers bend under my palms as more tears fall.

"I believed in you." The words taste like ash. "When I thought I could never trust a xaphan, I trusted you. I thought you were different." My fist strikes his chest again. "But you're exactly what they said—a manipulative, cruel?—"

"Little bird, please?—"

"Don't call me that!" I slam both hands against him, channeling magic through my conduit band. Blue energy crackles between us. "You don't get to use that name anymore. Not after—" A sob breaks free. "Not after making me feel likethis."

The magic pulses brighter, reflecting off his ice-blue eyes as I continue to strike his chest. Each hit is weaker than the last as grief overtakes anger.

"I would have understood," I whisper, my forehead falling against his chest. "I would have helped you find it. Why couldn't you just trust me?"

"I-" He shakes his head. Even he seems uncertain now. "It's not like that."

His words only enrage me.

"Get away from me!" My voice rises, echoing off the stone walls. The conduit band burns against my palm as magic surges through it, helping me push him back

"Kyrie." He catches my wrists, his grip gentle but firm. "Let me explain?—"

"Don't touch me!" The magic explodes outward, knocking over my wooden chest. It crashes against the wall with a thunderous bang.

"Little bird, please." His voice drops to a whisper. "We can fix th?—"

"Stop calling me that!" I wrench away from him, my fury building like a storm. "I'm not your little anything. I'm just another human you can use for your precious noble quest, right?"

His wings curl forward, trying to contain my outburst. "That's not?—"

"Get out." I shove him toward the door, channeling more magic through my band. Blue energy crackles along my arms, illuminating his pained expression. "I don't need your pity or your lies or whatever game you're playing."

"This isn't a game?—"

"No?" Another push, harder this time. His wings brush against the doorframe. "Then what is it? What do you get out of training me, out of making me think—" My voice breaks. "Making me think you cared?"

Footsteps sound in the hallway. Voices murmur, growing closer.

"Out!" I give him one final shove, pouring my hurt and betrayal into the magic. It propels him through the doorway. "Stay away from me, Azrael. I mean it."

His hand catches the doorframe. "Kyrie?—"

I slam the door in his face, cutting off whatever excuse he was about to offer. The wood trembles under my palm as I lean against it, letting the tears finally fall.

I slide down against the door, my legs giving out as the magic fades from my conduit band. The stone floor bites cold through my thin clothes, but I barely notice. My chest aches with each breath, like I've been struck by lightning.

Rising on shaky legs, I stumble to the scattered contents of my room. My fingers find the rough fabric of my training clothes. I lay them out methodically: the reinforced leather vest, the tight-fitting pants designed for climbing, the sturdy boots with their spelled soles. Each piece represents hours of preparation with... him.

The orb is still broken, but I don't need it. I channel magic through my band, creating just enough light to work by. The spelled thread I'd been saving for emergencies will have to do. I weave it through my boots and vest, reinforcing the enchantments already there.

"I don't need his help." The words taste bitter as I check my gear. "I don't need anyone's help."

But as I braid my hair back tight against my skull, my hands shake. The map had shown me what I was up against - though he was right about one thing. It's a massive tower and that map wasn't going to tell me anything useful. The gemstone would have bought me precious minutes of clean air.

---