Kael waited, hand extended, expression unreadable.
Not encouraging.
Not threatening.
Simply… certain.
The dusk wind coiled around him like smoke. His presence was a gravity, pulling on every shadow in the circle—pulling on mine most of all.
"Aria," he murmured, "step into the center."
My breath snagged. "You want to test me? Fine. But don't expect obedience."
"I expect truth," he corrected. "You've run from your own power since the day you tasted it. No more."
My shadows trembled at my feet, flickering like restless animals uncertain if they should hide behind me or bare their teeth.
I stepped forward.
The moment my boot crossed into the center of the monolith circle, the air tightened. Not painfully—no crushing weight—but with a sense of being seen. Fully. Deeply. Like the world peeled back its eyelids and studied the shape of my soul.
Kael spoke quietly. "This circle remembers everything done within it. Every oath, every betrayal, every death. It will remember you too."
"Good," I said. "Maybe one day someone will dig up that memory and understand why I killed you."
His smile was slow. "Show me that fire more often."
"I'm not here for your approval."
"And yet here you stand."
My pulse kicked. It was infuriating how easily he slipped under my skin.
"Enough," I said. "You wanted a demonstration. You'll get one."
I inhaled deeply, letting my magic coil through me. The shadows around my feet rose in dark ribbons. They relaxed, stretching long and thin like blades forming themselves from night.
Kael circled me—not predatory, not cautious. Studying. Evaluating. His eyes tracked the shadows that spiraled from my fingers, the faint tremor in my wrist, the way the dusk shimmered around my body.
"There," he said softly. "That edge. The hesitation. You feel it, don't you?"
"I feel power."
"And fear," he added.
I tried to block him out. I tried to center myself. But he wasn't wrong. The power was huge—vast and hungry and threaded with something… hollow. As if my magic was listening for the void I'd torn in myself with every portal.
"Stop watching my fear like it's a performance," I snapped.
"I watch you because you won't watch yourself."
I swung a shadow blade at him without thinking.
It should have sliced into him. It cut through everything else.
But Kael caught it.
Caught it.
A weapon of pure shadow—my shadow—with two fingers.
Heat shot up my arm. My jaw locked.
He tilted his head. "You've shaped this wrong."
"I shaped it how I wanted."
"No," Kael said. "You shaped it how you thought you were allowed."
His fingers tightened, and the blade shattered into a dark mist that dissolved into the dusk.
Anger burned under my skin. "You think you know everything about me."
"I know everything you try not to be."
"Shut up."
"Or what?" Kael asked, stepping into my space. "You'll open another portal? Tear yourself thinner? Bleed pieces of your soul into a void that never gives back?"
I shoved him.
He didn't move.
Not an inch.
Instead, he reached for me. His hand closed around my forearm—gentle, but unbreakable. He angled my wrist upward, examining the skin beneath the cloth wrapping.
"You're hiding the vein marks," he murmured.
"Let go."
The cloth shifted, exposing the faint black branching spread from the last time he touched me in the forest. The veins pulsed faintly, glowing with a sickly sheen.
Kael's expression darkened—not anger, but something colder.
"You're unraveling faster than I thought."
"Don't pretend you care."
He didn't answer.
That was how I knew he did.
—
He stepped back finally, releasing me, and the circle breathed again. My shadows curled inward, sullen and shaken.
Kael lifted his hand.
"Again," he commanded.
I hesitated.
Rhys reformed in the distance, her ghostly face flickering as if she were both present and not. Others appeared beyond her—translucent figures emerging like a silent audience.
Kael didn't look away from me. "They're not here to judge you. They're here to remember you."
"That's worse."
"Good."
His eyes locked onto mine, steady and merciless. "Now, Aria. Show me truth."
A flood of heat surged through me—anger, frustration, the bond's faint ache with Liam, the echo of Kaylan's pity, Lucian's confusing curiosity, Marcus's cruelty, the children I'd saved, the portals I'd opened, the pieces of my humanity I'd bartered away.
It all cracked open.
My shadows rose violently, no longer ribbons but storms—coiling upward in thick, jagged pillars that clawed toward the bruised sky. They twisted into serrated shapes, a swarm of dark wings and reaching tendrils, the sound of their movement like a chorus of sighs and rattling chains.
The ground shook beneath my feet.
Rhys gasped. The others whispered. Even the monoliths pulsed in response.
Kael's smile vanished entirely.
"There you are," he whispered.
My heart thundered. "This is what you made."
"No," Kael said, stepping into the storm. His voice didn't falter, didn't shake.
"This is what you became."
"And you think you can teach me to control it?"
Kael lifted his hand, letting one of the shadow tendrils brush across his palm. It sizzled against his skin, but he didn't flinch.
"No," he said. "I can teach you to wield it."
The shadows surged again. One tendril shot toward him like a spear. This time, I didn't stop it.
Kael didn't dodge.
He let it strike.
The tendril stabbed into his chest—
And dissolved.
Instantly.
My breath caught. "What—"
Kael exhaled. A plume of dusk rippled from his mouth like smoke.
"You still don't understand," he said. "Your shadows obey their fear. And you're afraid of me."
"That's not—"
He stepped closer. "Your magic tells on you, Aria. Every pulse, every reach, every flicker."
His hand rose and rested above my heart—not touching, but close enough that the air tensed.
"You don't fear my power."
His voice dropped.
"You fear my claim."
My pulse tripped, unsteady.
"That's not a claim," I growled.
"It is," Kael said softly. "And you feel it. That's why you push. That's why you run. That's why you came."
I shook my head. "No. I came because I need strength."
"And you came to take it from the one man you know will give it to you without ever requiring your loyalty."
His words stole breath from my lungs.
Kael leaned in, lips nearly brushing my temple.
"But do not mistake that mercy," he whispered.
"My mercy isn't kindness."
I swallowed hard. "What is it then?"
"Restraint."
The word thrummed through the circle.
Kael stepped back, shadows coiling obediently at his feet like wolves returning to their master. His gaze was darkened steel, sharp and unyielding.
"Training for today is done."
"That's it?" I demanded. "You drag me through memories, you provoke me, you tear open my magic, and then you just—stop?"
"One lesson a day," he said. "Or you'll break."
"I'm not that fragile."
"You're more fragile than you pretend."
He turned from me.
"But much harder to kill."
The monoliths dimmed as he left the circle, Selene and the others dissolving into dusk behind him.
"Rest, Aria," Kael called without turning. "I want you alive for tomorrow."
"And what's tomorrow?" I asked.
Kael paused at the threshold of shadow.
"Tomorrow," he said, "you meet the rest of my Court."
His voice softened, dangerous and certain.
"And they will tell you what you really are."
Then he vanished into the dusk—smooth, silent, absolute.
Leaving me in the circle, surrounded by echoes.
And for the first time since stepping through his Gate, I felt something cold sink into my bones.
Kael wasn't simply training me.
He was unveiling me.
Piece by piece.
Shadow by shadow.
Truth by truth.
And I wasn't sure I'd survive the version of myself he intended to reveal.