“Because it was sent to me,” I snapped, narrowing my eyes. I wasn’t in the mood to indulge him when he was in one of these moods.

  “Why?”

  I threw my arms up. “How should I know?”

  He folded his arms across his broad chest, his piercing blue gaze pinning me in place. Judging by the tick in his jaw, I knew he wanted a reason to be angry with me. He wanted a reason to take out this sudden burst of anger and I didn’t understand where any of this was coming from or what I had to do with it.

  “This is ridiculous,” he said.

  “I have to respond,” I said.

  “You will not —“

  “You don’t get to tell me what to do,” I said.

  “You’re my wife,” he said. “That’s exactly what I get to do. It’s why your grandfather wanted us married in the first place.”

  A flurry of emotions overwhelmed me the way they always did when someone mentioned my grandfather. I needed to control myself. I needed to calm down.

  “I know you looked after me when my grandfather died,” I began.

  “Is that what you call it?” he asked with obvious sarcasm.

  “I know I owe you a lot and I consider you…” I swallowed. “But you don’t have a right to order me around.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re actually considering this.” He gestured at the letter. “Do you even realize what it’s asking you?”

  “You don’t have to be so condescending,” I said, furrowing my brow. I worked hard, and I loved learning; to insinuate I was naïve or stupid wasn’t something I appreciated, especially coming from him.

  “I wasn’t trying to.”

  “Well, you were.”

  “You didn’t answer the question,” he said. “Do you know what they’re asking of you? I'm not questioning your intelligence. Astora likes to pretend she’s so much smarter than everyone else by decorating her commands with pretty language in order to manipulate people to do what she wants.”

  “I don’t understand why the letter insinuates I’d be a candidate for guardianship over the Sagittarius Stone,” I said, glancing at the letter in my hand. “I don’t know why they’re asking for me at all. I don’t have any magic in me.”

  I looked at him.

  Everything about his face was perfect and stoic. He didn’t look any different from before, but there was something…something in his eyes…

  “Right?”

  “Elara…”

  There it was again.

  The full name.

  “Tell me,” I said.

  “Elara…”

  “Stars, Toru, I’m so damn sick of you treating me like a child,” I snapped, slamming the letter down on the table. It didn’t have the force his did, but he didn’t expect the gesture, and his eyes narrowed slightly at the Chinese food, like it was all the food’s fault. “Tell me you don’t trust me to make my own decisions without telling me you don’t trust me.”

  “It has nothing to do with trust,” he said. And there was that tone, the one that said he was humoring me.

  “Do you know something about me I don’t?” I asked. “Do I have magic?”

  “Elara—“

  “You aren’t fair,” I said. I knew I was losing control over my temper but I didn’t care. “You’re constantly asking me about my day and about Professor Gilbert treating me fairly and everything else. And I tell you because you’re…” I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction by calling him husband. I wouldn’t do it. “Even though you’re never around, I indulge you when you are and when you ask. I know that sounds pathetic because I should have friends my age who are girls, who I can talk to and go out with on a Saturday night. But I don’t. I have you. Which is so pathetic.” I shook my head, trying to focus. “And you…you don’t view me the same way. I can’t believe I didn’t realize it until right now, but this is totally one-sided. I share and I tell you things but you don’t do the same. Sure, you ask questions and you give me just enough to be okay, but it’s not the same.” I shook my head, tears blurring my vision. “You’re not…you’re not my friend.”

  “Elara,” he said. “Don’t be dramatic.”

  “Dramatic?” I asked, throwing my arms wide. I wanted nothing more than to blink my tears away, but it was impossible. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

  “What?”

  “If I’m being dramatic, tell me I’m wrong,” I said. “See? You see me like I’m a helpless child–”

  “No.” The word was quiet out of his mouth, and after he uttered it, he clenched his jaw. It was almost like there was still so much more he wanted to say, but he held back for some reason. His crystal eyes darkened, reminding me of the sky just before it rained. I had only seen that look on a couple of occasions, and it was only then that I was reminded of his reputation. “You think I see you as a child? I don’t. Not at all. And perhaps that’s a dangerous thought, but it’s the truth.”

  “Then why⁠—”

  “Because you don’t know what it’s like,” he said. “There’s a reason your grandfather kept you from this world.”

  “My grandfather?” I shifted weight, trying to keep my balance. “What does he have anything to do with this?”

  “He has everything to do with this,” he replied.

  “You’re being cryptic.”

  “And you’re being dramatic.”

  I placed my hands on my hips. “I’m this close to taking my stitches out and calling Emmy to–”

  “I don’t want to hear about Emmy,” he said. He moved so quickly, I hadn’t finished blinking, and he was already in front of me. He was so tall, I had to crinkle my neck so I could look up at him.

  “And yet, you won’t tell me anything,” I said. “I told you about the invitation. I showed it to you. And you, you can throw my grandfather into this conversation, you can talk about some person named Nightarrow and magic and I don’t have any idea what’s going on, and I thought you, of all people, could help, but…” I shook my head. “Please, Toru. Help me understand so I can make an informed decision about this.”

  Don’t shut me out.

  Don’t think I’m some child who is too naïve.

  “The only reason she would be inviting you to the Institute is if something happened to Nightarrow,” he said. He was still so close, and though he loomed over me, I didn’t feel scared or intimidated by him. I felt safe. “And something did.”

  “Who’s Nightarrow?”

  “Elysia Nightarrow is—was—the Guardian of the Sagittarius Stone,” Toru finally said. “And just two nights ago, she was murdered.”

  Four

  I had to sit down.

  Actually, I had to eat. I plopped into the stiff chair and reached for the carton of food. It was already cold, but I didn’t care. There was something about Chinese food that made it appetizing hot or cold, fresh or a couple of days old.

  I didn’t say anything as I shoveled food into my mouth. I didn’t look at Toru. Couldn’t. Not when those knowing eyes pierced straight through me where I might as well have been naked –

  Not that I wanted to be naked around him.

  Not that I ever thought about being naked around him.

  “What are you thinking about, just now?” Toru asked, sliding his hands in his pockets. His lips curved into a small smirk, and for a moment, it was so easy to pretend we didn’t have a little disagreement, that we were just hanging out the way we always did when he deigned to drop by between his Sentinel missions.

  “I—nothing,” I said around a mouthful of food.

  “I think fried egg hit my cheek,” he remarked as he pretended to flick the food off of his face.

  “Good. That’s the only way you’re going to get some of my food.”

  “I’ll pass,” he said, pulling out a chair and leaning back in it. “Lar.”

  “Toru.”

  “I’m going to talk to Astora and see if I –”

  “No.”

  “No?” He arched a brow at me.

  “No,” I repeated. I glanced down at my food. I hated how much I liked to look at him; he was like a piece of art. There was something new to see, to notice, something captivating and mesmerizing. “I need answers before I can make an informed decision, and I want to get them from you. But if you don’t give them to me, I will go somewhere else.”

  I also hated that I had to admit I needed him in some capacity.

  “Is that a threat?” he asked.

  “I’m not⁠—”

  “I know.” He paused. “The thing is, I made a promise to your grandfather that I’d always protect you. And I know if I give you those answers, I know what you’ll do, and that would completely contradict what he told me, what I promised him, everything we did⁠—”

  He cut himself off.

  I already knew how he would have finished that sentence, and I was glad he hadn’t.

  I furrowed my brow. “So…you only check on me because of a promise you made my grandfather?” I asked.

  “Don’t make it like that,” he said, looking away. “You know that isn’t true.”

  “Then what is the truth?” I asked. I grabbed the letter again to emphasize my point. “I always thought I was without magic only to find that I’m being invited to the Celestial Institute of all places to replace a Guardian who…who was murdered. Which means that what I thought about myself isn’t true.”

  Toru pressed his lips together. Finally: “What do you want me to say?”

  “The truth,” I said. “It’s not that difficult.”

  He scoffed. “I don’t think you realize what you’re asking,” he said.

  “I have a right to know,” I insisted. “I’ll just…I’ll just go to Astora myself then. If you won’t help me.”

  He glared at me. Actually glared.

  I had seen Toru glare at people before. The Shadowblade of Serendal’s reputation was not exaggerated. Never had he pinned me with those icy blue eyes before. The fact that he would infuriated me. I clenched my teeth together so hard; I thought I would pop a vessel.

  “Don’t look at me that way,” I said.

  Except, it wasn’t as strong as I wanted it to be. In fact, my voice tremored.

  His eyes widened slightly, and then the glare was gone. And his arms were around me. I stayed stiff. We didn’t touch. Not on purpose. This was strange for him which made it strange for me. I wasn’t sure what he expected. I refused to melt into his arms because he didn’t deserve it; he didn’t, and I wasn’t going to cry because there was no reason for it. But then he cradled the back of my head with his large hand, holding me close to him, and I smelled the scent of the grass just after a rain, the evergreen trees residing in Serendal Forest smothered with mist, and suddenly, I was safe. And I dropped my defenses and turned boneless, and I couldn’t help myself. I clutched at his flack jacket, needing something to ground me into the moment, and he tucked my head underneath his chin, and he began to rock me back and forth, his grip on my head only tightening, keeping me in place.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  Tears rolled down my cheeks, but I bit my bottom lip to keep myself from making a sound.

  If only I could do the same thing to my shoulders to keep them from jumping to my ears, but I wasn’t able to hide my emotions even if I wanted to.

  I buried my face against his chest, masking my red skin and tired eyes. I was sure my cheeks were blotchy with patches of red, freckles sticking out against the sallow complexion.

  Toru said nothing. He didn’t offer me words of comfort. What could he offer me that would make me feel better? But he held me, and I let him, and that was enough.

  I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but it was enough where I stopped crying, and suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep.

  “You have to tell me,” I said instead, pulling out of his grasp so I could look at his face. I ignored how cold I was now, and instead, focused my attention on the point of his chin. “Please, Hideo. You’re the only one I trust. You’re the only one who can.”

  His eyes widened at the sound of his name, but then he looked away.

  “Your grandfather made me promise,” he said. “I can’t risk you.”

  “Then tell me the things that won’t put me at risk.” It shouldn’t be that complicated.

  He pursed his lips.. “That’s the thing,” he said. “If I tell you one thing, you’ll just keep peppering me with your questions.” He smirked. “I know you too well.” He poked my nose. “Wife.”

  “You can just say no,” I insisted, choosing to ignore the fact that he called me his wife.

  He gave me a long, inscrutable look. “You try saying no to you,” he said. “It’s annoying how tenacious you are.” He sighed. “And even telling you one thing would put you in grave danger, Elara.”

  “But you’re going to do it, anyway?” I asked hopefully, trying to give him puppy eyes. It was something I remembered being taught as a joke. My grandfather would pat me on the head and say, How can I say no to you, Elara?

  My heart squeezed.

  Stars, I missed him.

  I missed him so much; it hurt.

  Strange, since he had been dead the last six years.

  “Elara…”

  “You say I’m tenacious,” I said, sticking up a finger. “You know I’ll go to the dean or the council or whoever I need to in order to figure out why they’d invite me to their school and, more than that, to try out to be one of the Sacred Guardians.”

  His nose twitched, eyes narrowed. Not at me, but at my words.

  “Fine,” he said. “Do you want to sit?” He gestured at the table.

  I wanted to say no, but I held back and considered. “Yes.” I moved over to my chair and eased into it. There was still some Chinese food left, so I grabbed my plastic fork and began to twirl some chow mein onto it.

  Toru sat across from me. “What I’m going to tell you is…a lot,” he said. “But I need you to know that your grandfather chose to keep it from you to protect you. I know you have—had—a close relationship with him, and it’s important that you know this has nothing to do with your abilities and his faith in you. When I say he truly meant to protect you, I mean it. If anyone were to find out…”

  It was strange, watching the playful Sentinel so serious. I wanted to make a joke to ease the tension between us, but I didn’t want to risk inadvertently changing the subject. Instead, I shoved the food in my mouth to keep it preoccupied.

  “Elara, you have Blood Magic.”

  I nearly choked on my noodles.

  Actually, I was choking.

  I coughed, trying to chuck it back up, but I couldn’t seem to get at it⁠—

  Toru hit my back with his hand, not hard but firm enough to help unlatch my closed esophagus. The bunch of noodles was unleashed onto the table. He didn’t remove his palm; instead; he rubbed my back with that same hand in soft circles. Warmth coated my body like a blanket only he could give me.

  “See?” he said. “Just knowing almost killed you.”

  “Toru.”

  “Back to Toru again?” I glared at him. “Okay, okay.” A beat. “It’s the truth. You have magic inside of you, Blood magic.”

  “But Blood magic is forbidden,” I whispered.

  “Yes.”

  “How…?”

  “We don’t know,” he said. “Your grandfather wanted to find out, which was why he removed himself from the Institute and the Celestials completely. If anyone found out about you, you’d be taken from him and–” A wrinkle appeared in his nose and he bared his teeth, long canines reminding me of a lethal wolf ready to strike. “That would happen even today. I wouldn’t be able to protect you, even if I told them I was your husband and you belonged to me.”

  “Well…they must know about it, or else they wouldn’t have invited me,” I pointed out.

  “They know you’re magically inclined,” he said.

  “How?”

  “When you’re born, every baby has their ankle drawn for blood in order to run a slew of tests to ensure health and general well-being,” he explained. “One of those things is magic. As you know, magic can come from anyone, even with those who have generations upon generations of no magic. You were registered as magicked.”

  I nodded. That made sense.

  “I thought you couldn’t be born with Blood Magic,” I said.

  “That’s one of the reasons why your grandfather kept you away,” Toru explained. “He needed to know how you obtained it. If he ever found out, he didn’t tell me.”

  “How did my grandfather know I had my Blood Magic?” I asked in a low whisper.

  “You were six,” he said. “I remember it to this day. I was the one he called when he sought assistance. You had been riding your bike, and you fell on this rock. It cut you down the forearm.” He reached out and traced the inside of my arm with his finger. The hair on my arm stood at full attention, and I couldn’t help as my mouth went dry at his touch. “You didn’t even cry. Your magic coagulated your blood immediately. You should have gotten stitches. You should have a scar. But you didn’t leave a trace.”

  I blew out a breath. “How come I don’t remember that?” I asked.

  “Your grandfather refused to discuss it,” he said. “It never happened again, as far as I know. It’s why you’re good at healing. Your magic literally speaks to my blood and helps it clot.”

  My eyes widened. “Why would that be banned?” I asked. “I could help. The Sentinels. The Guardians. I could heal them.”

  “Because you could control them,” he whispered. “Consider your magic falling into the wrong hands. They’d play puppeteer.”

  I shivered. I hadn’t considered that.

  Naïve.

  I was so naïve.

  “Why didn’t the Institute insist on me attending at fourteen?” I asked. “If they didn’t know about the specifics of my magic, what did they know?”

  “Just that you had magic and your grandfather was going to take care of it,” Toru said. He hadn’t let go of my arm and I hadn’t pulled away from him.

  “And they were okay with that?”

  “No.” He cracked a smile. “But they didn’t think it was worth arguing with him. He was the Wise Oak, after all.”