Page 74 of Tempest Blazing
"I would find the things you care about," he continued, voice soft as silk and twice as deadly. "The people who make you weak. And I would hurt them. Slowly. Thoroughly. Until you begged me to stop."
The blood drained from my face. "You wouldn't—"
The back of his hand cracked across my cheek with enough force to snap my head sideways, the sharp sound echoing through the dining room. Pain bloomed hot and immediate, and I tasted copper on my tongue.
"Control yourself," he said mildly, as if he'd done nothing more than adjust a crooked painting. "As I was saying—I might not, but others would do such things. Others will. The moment they realize that the heir to House Ellesar has developed a conscience, they'll start looking for pressure points. Leverage."
His eyes glittered with cold amusement. "Tell me, Kane—how long do you think a powerless human would last if the wrong people decided she was useful?"
My hands clenched into fists beneath the table, magic crackling between my fingers like trapped lightning. The image he painted was crystal clear and absolutely terrifying. Tess, alone and vulnerable, targeted because of me. Because I'd been careless. Because I'd let my feelings show.
"I see you understand," Silvius said, satisfaction evident in his tone. "Good. Understanding is the first step toward wisdom."
He returned to his seat, picked up his wine glass, and took a measured sip. When he spoke again, his voice had returned to its normal conversational tone, as if we'd been discussing the weather.
"The Trials continue tomorrow," he said. "You'll excel, of course. You'll demonstrate the strength and control befitting an Ellesar heir. And you'll remember that everything you do reflects on this family. Every choice. Every alliance. Every moment of weakness."
The message was clear. I was being watched. Evaluated. And anyone I cared about would pay the price for my failures.
"I won't disappoint you," I said, the words tasting like ash in my mouth.
"No," he agreed, raising his glass in a mock toast. "You won't. Because disappointment has consequences, Kane. For you. For those around you. For anyone foolish enough to believe that sentiment has a place in the world we inhabit."
He drained his wine in one long swallow, then set the glass down with finality. "You're dismissed."
I rose from my chair with the same careful grace I'd been taught since childhood, spine straight, movements fluid despite the way the room seemed to tilt around the edges. The weight of his threats followed me like shadows, each word echoing in my skull with the force of absolute certainty.
The hidden drawer opened at my touch, revealing the collection of healing draughts I kept for emergencies. I selected one of the smaller vials—the kind meant for minor injuries—and uncorked it with steady fingers. The liquid went down bitter, but within moments the throbbing in my cheek began to fade, the split on my lip sealing itself closed.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror above my dresser, seeing my father's eyes looking back at me. Pale blue and calculating. The eyes of someone who understood that love was weakness and sentiment was death.
The eyes of someone who would do whatever it took to protect what mattered.
I found Mason in Kali's room, sitting on the edge of her bed while she curled in the chair by the window. She'd changed into pajamas—soft cotton pants and an oversized t-shirt that made her look even smaller. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around them like armor.
Mason looked up when I entered, his dark eyes taking in my appearance with the kind of assessment that came from experience with violence. But tonight there were no visible wounds to catalog, no healing draughts to explain away. Tonight the damage was all internal.
"She's not talking," he said quietly, voice rough with exhaustion and helpless rage. "She's trying not to cry." His massive hands clenched into fists, then slowly relaxed. "I… I think Tess might feel it through the bond. My distress."
I nodded, crouching beside his chair so I could meet his eyes at the same level. "Stay with her. I'll tell Tess whatever she needs to hear."
The words came out low and firm, carrying a promise I intended to keep. Tess would understand. She had to. Because Mason belonged here tonight, with his sister, not trying to explain why the girl he'd protected his entire life was falling apart again.
Mason exhaled slowly, gratitude and conflict warring in his expression. "I hate that I'm not there. But Kali—she needs me more tonight."
I placed a hand briefly on his shoulder, feeling the tension coiled in his muscles like steel cables under strain. "You're doing the right thing. Tess knows your heart better than you think."
He nodded, some of the weight lifting from his features. In the chair by the window, Kali shifted slightly, and I caught a glimpse of her face—young and haunted and trying so hard to be strong.
I walked away before the rage building in my chest could find its voice. But it wasn't just rage anymore. It was fear. Cold, calculating fear that wrapped around my lungs like ice and squeezed until I could barely breathe.
Because Silvius was right. About the vulnerability. About the consequences. About the fact that caring about people made them targets.
My magic stirred in response to my emotional state, elemental threads unraveling in my chest. Heat pulsed through my veins. Wind whispered at the edges of my consciousness. Sparks danced between my fingers, and pressure built behind my ribs like a storm demanding release.
I stepped into the manor's courtyard, breathing hard. The night air was cool against my skin, but it did nothing to calm the fire burning inside me.
Breathe, Kane. Control is the only currency that matters.
