Sera rolled her eyes. “Next town we get to, I’ll be sure to hire a trainer.”

  Al stopped short, giving her a forced smile. “I will teach you the basics if you’re inclined to actually listen to me.”

  “You’d teach me?”

  He cocked a brow at her, and the first time in a few days, that dimple made its appearance. “If you don’t want to learn, I won’t waste my energy on you. But if you do, yes, I’ll teach you. Unless you still have a reason to hate me.”

  Why did this feel like a trap? She wasn’t completely helpless. Sera had been the one to save him when the demon lord attacked. It had been her abomination that frightened the demon off. And as troubling as those thoughts were, that she could be intimidating enough to scare away a demon lord…

  Still, knowing her way around a simple blade couldn’t hurt, could it?

  “All right,” she said.

  “Good. We’ll start tonight. I suspect we’ll reach Ironoak in a few days.”

  Al had a menacing look of determination on his face. He circled her, his large hands clasped behind his back, and scanned her as if she were prey. “You’re small, weak, and to put it plainly, out of shape.”

  Sera crossed her arms. “You’re a shit teacher, you know that?”

  He grinned. “Maybe, but it’s the truth.” He stopped before her. “Your greatest strength as a woman is that others will underestimate you.” He stepped closer. “You’ll have to evade, be quicker”—another step—“and learn how to fight at close quarters.”

  She didn’t have a moment to breathe before he was on her. She was wrapped in his arms, the fabric of his uniform bunched between her throat and his bicep.

  “What the fuck, Al!”

  “Fight, Minnow.”

  She ripped at his arm, but it was like trying to grip a single brick in a wall. Alistair squeezed tighter. Unease slowly grew into terror.

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  “Come on, Minnow, do something,” he whispered in her ear, which made her shiver for a completely different reason.

  Sera tried to elbow him in the stomach, which was just as firm as the bicep curled around her throat. But there was something lower that was quite soft. Sera picked up her leg and aimed straight for his balls.

  “Motherfucker…” Alistair let her go and cupped himself before hitting the ground.

  Sera heaved in big breaths and sank her nails into her palms to stop the swirling. “That’s what you get!”

  Alistair groaned. “Okay,” he said, sitting up. Leaves tangled in his hair as he attempted to right himself. “That was a low blow.”

  “You said fight.” Sera crossed her arms and eyed him.

  Al brushed off the dirt and got to his feet. Sera couldn’t help but smirk as he limped over to her. “Make a fist.”

  He grabbed her wrist and rearranged her thumb so it lay below the second knuckles of her first two fingers. She wondered how often he had to adjust the grip of his soldiers and if they also experienced the fluttering in their stomachs when his hand enveloped theirs.

  Was she ever going to get over this crush and act like an adult? Sera bit back her sigh. Every skip of her heart brought her back to the slight glance he’d given her when she was fifteen. The time he’d been close enough to kiss before he’d pulled her hair and run away.

  “I’m going to try to hit you. I want you to move your forearm to the side of your face to block me like this.” He made the motion. “Ready?” He swung his arm, aiming for her left cheek.

  Sera blocked.

  “Again.”

  He swung. She blocked. They did this repeatedly, switching sides while he corrected her form.

  “Okay, now I want you to hit me.” He pointed to the center of his chest.

  “You want me to punch you?”

  Alistair smiled, showcasing his perfectly straight teeth in a look that could almost be called flirtatious. “I want you to feel what it’s like to make contact with your fist.” Sera glanced below the belt. “Do not even think about it, Minnow.”

  She snorted. “What if I hurt you again?”

  He laughed. Moons, he was gorgeous. Sera couldn’t look away from his corded neck, the way his throat bobbed with every chuckle, then that chiseled jaw. “I’ll be all right. I’ve sparred with bigger warlocks than you.”

  “If you say so.” He came straight for her, and she punched him as hard as she could. It was like hitting a brick wall—a very handsome brick wall, a brick wall that smelled like her favorite parts of the Citadel.

  “Oh, you’ve got some power in you, Wildrick.” Al rubbed his chest. The look he gave her made her stomach flip.

  A mistake.

  A movement in the corner of her eye had her lurching backward. “What the fuck!” she screamed at him, her back end now firmly planted in the dirt.

  “Don’t let your guard down.”

  Sera swatted his gloved hand away as he tried to help her up. She slapped the dirt from her pants and set back up to continue the lesson. He threw punches, and she blocked until she was slick with sweat and her chest was heaving.

  “Starting tomorrow, we’re running part of the day.” He wasn’t even winded.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re huffing and puffing from a few sparring exercises. I haven’t even given you a weapon to hold yet.”

  “Sorry I’m not made of muscle like you.”

  “Oh, Minnow, are you saying you noticed my muscles?” The bastard flexed, and she swore. Of course she’d noticed them. How could she not? The damn moons probably noticed them.

  “You know, Alistair, I never knew you to go fishing for compliments. Has your well of eligible witches so dried up you need to pull tributes out of me?” She smirked, thinking she’d won.

  She didn’t expect his eyes to grow darker and his smile more wicked. “My well is never dry.” He winked at her. Her core temperature rose a few degrees.

  “Such a shameless flirt,” she said and flopped onto her bedroll.

  Alistair shrugged, worked that powerful jaw on a piece of jerky, and tended to the fire. Settled, she reached into her pack, looking for her journal.

  Dominick’s words fluttered to the page.

  Sorry for the short message, but I wanted to let you know as soon as I heard. Thank Shadow, she is still alive. I’ll have Theo check every day if I can. There are some other weird happenings going on in the lifeline pool. Theo and I are working on figuring out what exactly it is. Right now, all I can tell you is that there seems to be an uptick in demon-coven interaction.

  Also, in response to your comment concerning potential sexy time with Al, it’s semantics. Alistair is like a brother, but he isn’t my brother, so in this case, I am demanding details even if you refuse to share them.

  Your mother has kept her head down in the mastrias’ wing. I’ve no doubt that she knows more than she would ever tell me, even if I could get her to give me the time of day. But I’ll keep trying to spy. Hugs and kisses.

  That didn’t sound good. Increased interactions with demonkind? She needed to find those doorways, at least one, before Al brought the oracle back to the Citadel.

  You have no idea what relief I felt when I read your words this morning. I owe you your weight in brew at Mystic’s, but something tells me I’ll ask for a few more favors before I return.

  I hope you didn’t break the poor lock’s heart. Please thank him for me.

  Have you heard from Colton?

  Sera closed her journal and sent the goddess a kernel of her power. The blue spark floated in the air for a moment, then fizzled out, accepted by Shadow herself, as the saying went. An offering. A prayer.

  “Who are you praying for?” Alistair asked over the crackle of the fire he was feeding.

  “Colton.”

  Alistair was silent. He didn’t offer any words of assurance when she met his gaze. Out of anyone, he must know what it felt like, not knowing if your friends would return alive. A piece of her heart cracked at that, and a little more as she watched him rub his chin before pulling a kernel of power and releasing it into the night.

  “For Colton,” Alistair whispered.

  Chapter nineteen

  Dominick

  “We’re going to Jedan?” Theo asked him as they crossed over the threshold into the slum quarter.

  Dominick tried not to bristle at the question and increased his pace toward Sera’s boardinghouse. “Have a problem with Jedan members?” The words came out accusatory. Sera wasn’t even a Jedan member, but she lived here, she cared for these people, and by default, that meant he did too.

  Dom turned down her street, passing a group of novices huddled together, throwing dice at the end of an alley. Quietly, the two warlocks snuck into the house.

  “I don’t have an issue with them,” Theo said. “I expected you would, though.”

  Dominick couldn’t help but raise a brow at Theodore. This was a pleasant surprise. Who knew there was at least one more Daedeth-class member who didn’t hate the lower class?

  He pulled Sera’s key from its place and thanked the moons that he didn’t get another sliver. He’d felt like a fool for going to the healers last time. “You said you wanted a place to talk where no one could hear,” Dom said, pushing open the door. “Ask and you shall receive.”

  Theo rolled his eyes and stepped inside. Dom shut the door behind him and crossed the room. With a sweep of his hands, he made sure the space was soundproof. Sure, he could have done this in his own apartment, but in this quarter, the presence of a Daedeth member who was stronger than him… was highly unlikely.

  “It’s cute,” Theo said. “This is your friend’s house? I didn’t realize she was in Jedan.”

  “She’s not.” Dom flopped onto Sera’s bed. “She’s a keeper, but it’s a long story as to why she’s staying here. Anyway, what did you find out?”

  Theo let out a breath and pulled a small notebook from the pocket of his robes. “Today alone, there were twenty fatalities.” Dominick straightened. A sour taste coated his tongue. “All Legion. Looks like there have been pocket skirmishes.”

  “Do you know where? Who?” Dom was going to be sick. Shadow save him if his brother was harmed. He was still waiting for a reply to his letter. He shouldn’t panic; it could take weeks for the post to reach Colton’s new base, and the battalion was moving, the last he heard.

  Theo shook his head. “It would have taken too long. There are specific readers appointed for the Legion. I shouldn’t have even been looking, but they aren’t reporting it to the coven. Have you heard of families receiving death notices?”

  “No.” Dom raked his hand through his hair as he stared at Theo, who was obviously as troubled as he felt, judging by the way he was pacing back and forth. Dominick couldn’t blame him. This was news dangerous enough to get you executed, let alone shunned. Dominick shivered. “You said Nora’s thread was still strong, though?”

  “It is.”

  “Okay. Well, we keep notes. We work on our mind barriers or whatever, and we keep it secret and see what the Council does.” Dominick shrugged. What else could they do? Dominick and Theo had no power, no way to hold the Council responsible for the discrepancy. There had to be a reason.

  “You’ve got any place I can keep this safe?” Theo asked, tapping his notebook on Sera’s counter.

  Dominick got up from the bed and lifted the mattress. “I know just the place.”

  Chapter twenty

  Seraphina

  It had been three days of burning shins and bleeding toes, and the bastard was laughing at her. Sera realized Al was downright elated now that running had been added to their daily itinerary. Between running every morning and spending her nights examining the map while marking potential ruins and doorways, she was going to hurl.

  Bent over, forearms on knees, she was desperate to catch her breath. Snik stood beside her, whining at her discomfort, but Sera was too busy sucking down precious air to soothe him.

  “You know if we were being chased, you would’ve died hours ago.” A light sheen on Alistair’s forehead had dampened his hair just enough that it stayed in a perfect dark wave when he pushed the strands back. Those blue eyes were startling in the sunlight.

  “I’m fine,” she said between heaving breaths.

  He smirked at her, that dimple mocking beneath the shadow of stubble. Apparently he could grow a full beard now, too, unlike the scraggly mustache he’d had in their youth. “You don’t look fine.”

  “Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to comment on a witch’s looks?” Sera plopped on the ground and held her stomach. The dark well inside her was restless, despite the running, despite her exhaustion. The abomination swirled, making her chest tight. Sera couldn’t help but wonder if it was a bad omen. Was something coming? If so, she didn’t know how to prepare. What she wouldn’t give to feel a semblance of control.

  She’d had control when she created that scourge and whipped that demon lord. It had been as natural as breathing. “Maybe it was the jerky we had for breakfast,” she offered as an excuse. Snik whined.

  “Tasted fine to me.”

  “Well, maybe I’m a little more sensitive than you.” Sera unwrapped her curls from a high bun, rubbing hard at her scalp.

  “You’re most definitely more sensitive than me.” He held out his gloved hand. “Come on, we’re on the outskirts of Ironoak.”

  It was odd how he kept his hands covered. She could understand it when they sparred, but while running? Shadow, every inch of her was sweating. She couldn’t imagine wearing gloves.

  “Does that mean I get to sleep in a bed?”

  “You’ll be sleeping in a bed tonight, Minnow. You’ll also need to wear that dress I bought you.”

  “Never mind, I’ll sleep on the ground.”

  “Oh, come on. It’s purple. I like purple.”

  At least he was trying. It had been days since they’d had even a tiny spat. If anything, she had started to think he enjoyed her company.

  “It’s lavender, and if you like it so much, you wear it. Purple isn’t my color.” Truth be told, the only color she liked wearing was black.

  “Give me the dress,” he said.

  “Can you glamour it? Make it look halfway decent?” Sera reached into her pack and threw it at him.

  “Something like that.” Al threw the lavender monstrosity to his feet and stomped it into the dirt. She’d catch flies with how far her jaw dropped. Once the tread from his boots was visible, he picked it up and handed it to her. “There. Now it’s purple and brown, and since you can’t glamour, we’ll have to get creative.”

  Alistair bent down, dragged his gloved hand through the soil of the forest floor, and approached her.

  “No.” She backed away. “No, Al, don’t.”

  He was snickering. Outright snickering, and if her palms didn’t already itch with the abomination begging to be released, she would have pummeled him.

  You can’t burn him alive. He’s your only way to save Nora. She repeated her new mantra while they trudged into the outskirts of Ironoak. Alistair had glamoured himself well enough. There was a dullness to his skin and reddened marks on his cheeks and under his eyes. His beard was much longer, but he still couldn’t hide all that muscle.

  “Did you really have to wipe dirt over my entire face?” Sera asked. She was sure a grain of dirt had burrowed its way into her tear duct, and rubbing was only making it worse. Also, this dress’s blind seamstress had made the sleeve so uneven that the arm kept twisting with every movement she made.

  “Humans don’t have flawless skin,” he said, keeping his gaze on the city before them. She supposed she should take that as a compliment. “Try not to gag when we get to the tavern.”

  Sera was already missing Snik. She hoped he was out having fun, gallivanting with the furry tree rats… or eating them. He did like to eat them. The little goblin had seemed so sad when she’d told him to go.

  Sera was pulling at the twisted fabric between her armpit and her pack’s shoulder strap when her toe hit a rock. Before she could hit the ground, Alistair was there, gripping her around the waist.

  “Coven founders, Minnow. Watch where you’re stepping, won’t you?”

  She couldn’t breathe with his hands on her like that, with the low baritone of his voice in her ear. She gripped Al’s hand as they turned onto the main road.

  Ironoak wasn’t as grand as the Citadel, but it was more impressive than Feybury. Sera tried to swallow the lump forming in her throat. There were so many more people here. Which meant more casualties if she had an incident.

  Just don’t lose control. The magic laughed at her, and she shook her head.

  Alistair’s grip on her hand tightened. The streets were a combination of smoothed rock and packed dirt. Jedan Quarter didn’t even have the privilege of stone mixed with the dirt of their roads. Would that help keep the street from becoming a muddy mess in the rain? Her irritation flared as she realized that humans had better materials than the lowest magic-born.

  “Wait, why would I gag?” she asked, trying to divert her attention from the hypocrisy of her own coven.

  “Humans are dirty and smell.”

  “I’ve been in a human settlement before. They didn’t seem that bad.”

  As Sera and Al moved through the city, dense with tightly clustered houses, children ran after each other, hopping over fences, and dogs happily chased them.

  With each person they passed, Sera felt her airway grow tight. She hadn’t anticipated the physical reaction to being in a settlement again. Everyone she passed—the children, the old women gathered around a washbasin, the men guiding their carts to market—she imagined melting before her and crying out in pain.

  “Have you been to a human city?” Al asked.

  “Well, no. It was a small farming village. That’s usually where artifacts are found, buried in large fields.” The leather of Al’s glove was absorbing her hand’s sweat, but she didn’t let go as a group of men stumbled around the corner.