Page 55 of The Ashes and the Star-Cursed King

How many times had I been in this training ring with Vincent? Countless. I could practically hear him now, barking orders at me.

Faster. Harder. Don’t be sloppy. You aren’t trying hard enough, little serpent. That will not be good enough when it counts.

He’d pushed me so hard. Sometimes I’d end our sessions collapsing in a pool of my own vomit.

I pushed you because I wanted you to be safe,Vincent whispered in my ear.

He pushed me so I could protect myself.

Everything in this world is dangerous to you,he reminded me.

Because I was human.

But I wasn’t.

It was a lie. All of it.

My strikes against the dummy grew faster, harder, sloppy. My lungs burned. Chest ached. Nightfire bloomed at the edge of my blade, surrounding me with flecks of white.

But I wasn’t.

How many times had I practiced my magic with Vincent in this ring? How many times had he told me that my power would likely never amount to anything?

Had that been a lie, too?

Did you know?I asked him now, driving another blow into the training dummy, the stuffing collapsing under the force.

Vincent’s voice was silent.

Why didn’t you tell me?

Why did you lie to me, Vincent? Why?

Silence. Of course.

The Nightfire flared in a wild surge, surrounding me in a blinding burst. With a ragged roar, I slammed my weapon into the dummy, sending it toppling to the floor. My strike was so clumsy, so vicious, I accidentally sent my blade with it, the metal hitting the ground with a deafening clatter.

I barely heard it over the sound of my panting breaths.

And then I heard a familiar voice behind me.

“Didn’t realize just how lucky I am to be alive until I saw that.”

Raihn.

I squeezed my eyes shut, quickly swiping away tears.Fuck.

“Right,” I choked out. It sounded pathetically weak.

“You sound out of breath, though.”

Oh, fuck him.

“I’m just out of practice.”

“Want a partner?”

“No.”

---