Page 138 of The Blood Traitor

Cresta brushed invisible lint off her shoulder. “I’ll maybe allow Jarento visit, especially if you can be bothered to get off your lazy ass to come and see me.”

Kiva’s heart warmed as she read into Cresta’s comment, knowing it was her not-so-subtle way of saying that nothing about their friendship would change, even if they weren’t with each other every day. But she stayed on task to say, “I’m talking about a different handsome prince.”

Cresta wrinkled her nose. “Oriel is a bit young, don’t you think?”

Kiva huffed out a laugh, which she immediately regretted, pain flaring along her torso. She gritted her teeth through it, and said, “You know who I’m talking about.”

There was a pause, before Cresta answered, “IsupposeCaldon can visit. Assuming his head will fit through the castle gates.”

Another laugh left Kiva against her will, and she had to bite back a whimper this time, before managing to say, “You two have such a strange relationship.”

“‘Relationship’ is a very strong word for what we have.” Cresta smirked wickedly. But then she said, almost in warning, “I don’t know what the future will bring for us. Things are more complicated now than before. But —” She looked down at the bed, before meeting Kiva’s eyes again and saying, her voice softer, “We’ll see.”

That was more than Kiva had expected her to admit, so she smiled and replied, “That’s good enough for me.”

Cresta just shook her head and looked to the ceiling, but then she leaned forward and grabbed something off the table beside Kiva’s bed, handing it over.

It was a vial, identical to the one Maddis had given Kiva earlier that day.

“Go on,” Cresta said, nudging her knee. “I saw you wince — you’re in pain. You need to sleep.”

“I’ve been sleeping for days,” Kiva grumbled, but she also knew she would heal faster if she rested, so she downed the bitter tonic. Onceagain, her pain dulled nearly instantly, but so too did her eyes begin to close. “You better not leave for Mirraven without saying goodbye,” she mumbled, sliding down in her bed.

“I won’t,” Cresta said, her voice fading out. “And besides, you and I still have unfinished business to attend to first.”

But Kiva didn’t get to ask what she was talking about before she drifted off again.

The early morning sunshine woke Kiva, and just like the last two times she’d regained consciousness, she wasn’t alone in her room. But this time there were two people with her, one on the chair — Tipp, who was snoring loudly — and one on the bed beside her, holding her close.

Kiva snuggled into Jaren, breathing in his fresh, elemental scent, her heart feeling full. He stirred when he felt her move, his eyes opening slowly before his chin dipped down to look at her.

In a sleep-husky voice, he said, quiet enough to keep from rousing Tipp, “You’re awake.”

Kiva smiled and teased, “Or maybe you’re dreaming.”

His fingers whispered across her cheekbone, his touch so incredibly tender as he said, “Oh, I’m definitely dreaming.” He pressed the softest of kisses to her temple, before capturing her gaze and saying, “You scared me.”

Kiva felt the pain in his voice, the fear he couldn’t hide, and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“What you did —”

“I’d do it again.”

He tensed against her.

“In a heartbeat,” she said, needing him to see how serious she was.

His eyes flashed with emotion — love, grief, terror, relief, and so much more. But then he said, so very carefully, as if he was worried she had forgotten, “Your magic...”

Kiva looked at her hands, knowing she would never again see the golden glow, trying to reconcile how that made her feel. For ten years, she had ignored her power, pushing it down as far as it would go. Then, when she’d finally released it, she’d spent months being afraid of it — not just her lack of control, but also the possibility of turning into a monster. It was only recently that she’d come to embrace it, tocherishit. And she couldn’t deny that a part of her would mourn its loss, especially knowing it was gone forever.

But there was a larger part of her that was relieved. Because now there was absolutely no chance that she would yield to the darker side of her bloodline. Nanna Delora had used the Eye of the Gods on herself to take away her own magic; she’d made that choice rather than risk the alternative. And while Kiva wished she’d been granted the same choice, she knew her sadness would pass.

In a whisper, Kiva shared all of that with Jaren, finishing quietly with, “I can live with not having magic. But I wouldn’t have been able to live with knowing you’d lost yours again — and everything you would have lost with it.”

The look in Jaren’s eyes caused the breath to catch in Kiva’s lungs. But she pushed through it to add, “And besides, my magic didn’t make me a healer, just as it won’t stop me from becoming a better one.”

Jaren understood her meaning immediately, and rasped out, “Does that mean you’re going to take Maddis up on her offer to study here?”

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