The revelation that King Lorcan had arranged safe passage for Muffin had been a small, venomous shock. It didn't negate his tyranny, but it complicated my hatred, softening the edges of the monster I needed him to be. A tyrant who cares about stray cats is still a tyrant, but he's a far trickier enemy.
I went into the second training session exhausted and agitated. I hadn't slept well, the sapphire gown having been replaced by simple, rough-spun tunic and trousers that felt heavy against my skin, still aching from the residual energy backlash of the previous day.
When Vesper escorted me back to the Obsidian Pit, the air was even colder, prickling my skin with static. And this time, I wasn't alone with Vesper.
King Lorcan stood on the perimeter of the circular chamber, directly opposite the entrance. He wasn't leaning or casual; he stood rigid, arms folded across his chest, draped in his dark formal tunic. His eyes, those unnerving amber depths, were already locked on the white marble circle where I was meant to stand.
He was silent, a statue of compressed shadow, but his presence was a physical weight. I felt the pressure of his expectations immediately, and the low, constant hum of my sealed power beneath my ribs seemed to vibrate faster in protest.
"The King is observing, Seraphina," Vesper murmured to me, her voice low and tight as she guided me onto the marble. "He wishes to assess the progress after your… emotional dinner. He is running out of time. Do not fail to impress him with your capacity for survival."
"I'm not trying to impress him," I hissed back. "I'm trying not to accidentally trigger an extinction-level event."
I walked to the center of the marble circle and braced myself. Vesper stood near the wall, ready to take notes or, more likely, tackle me if I started to ignite.
"The process is the same," Vesper instructed, her voice now carrying slightly to the edges of the pit. "The seal is an energy blockade. You must hit it intentionally. Focus on what broke through yesterday. The rebellion. The sheer refusal to be a sacrificial lamb."
I closed my eyes. The pea-sized scorch mark on the marble felt like a mocking monument to my inadequacy. Two days.
I focused on the cold. The cold in the air, the cold in the stone, and the icy, consuming cold that radiated off Lorcan's unwavering form across the room. I pictured the moment in the study when our hands touched, that painful rejection of fire against shadow.
I lifted my hands, palms open, and poured my focus inward. Instead of trying to create a flame, I focused on the heat. I demanded the stored energy to move, to flow, to break the dam.
You want the Sun-Fire? Take it.
This time, the energy didn't just buzz; it roared. It felt like a fever breaking in my core, an explosive release of built-up pressure.
Instead of a snap, there was a deafening CRACK that sounded like a dry branch splintering. My eyelids were instantly seared by a flash of brilliant, pure golden light that briefly filled the entire Obsidian Pit. It was glorious, terrifying, and utterly uncontrolled.
I felt the heat rush out of me, not through my hands, but through my chest, radiating outward in a shocking wave. The air instantly boiled around me, and I heard Vesper gasp.
When the flash subsided, I stumbled back, gasping, my sight blurring momentarily.
I looked down. There was still no flame. But the marble beneath me had fractured, radiating outward from the center in deep, shimmering golden cracks. And worse was that the blue-silver runes etched into the obsidian walls, designed to contain my power, were sputtering violently, fading in and out of luminescence.
"The wards are overloading!" Vesper shouted, abandoning her post and rushing toward me, her silver eyes wide with alarm.
Before she reached me, a voice, deep and dangerously calm, cut across the chamber.
"Stop."
Lorcan hadn't moved an inch, but the deep, concentrated darkness that usually adhered close to his body had surged forward, spreading like ink over the obsidian walls. It rushed over the sputtering runes, coating them, and instantly stabilized the energy flow. The blue-silver runes settled, now glowing with a steady, deep purple light where the shadow touched them.
"You released enough heat to overload the grounding runes," Lorcan stated, his voice flat, but the raw power he exerted to control the chamber was palpable. "That was not a chip, Seraphina. That was a hammer blow."
I was shaking, utterly drained. My palms felt faintly scorched, and the smell of ozone and burnt rock filled the chamber.
"But still uncontrolled," I managed, my voice hoarse. "I didn't summon anything. I just overloaded."
"It is progress," he conceded, slowly walking toward the center of the pit. His boots made no sound on the scorched marble. "The blockade is weakening. But Alaric's fear is confirmed: you are a runaway train. If the bond is initiated while you are this unstable, the fusion of Shadow and Fire will not create salvation; it will create an explosion."
He stopped right at the edge of the cracked circle, separated from me by only a few feet. I could feel the cold radiating off him, a welcome contrast to the furnace my body had become.
"I am not going to risk my entire world on a gamble," he said, his gaze intensely cold, focused on the deep golden fractures in the stone, not on me. "We need a catalyst. Something to control and contain that burst power."
He looked up, meeting my eyes. "Vesper, retrieve the Sunstone. We will attempt a different method tomorrow. Seraphina, listen closely. You have successfully broken the seal. Now, you must learn to command the light, not merely explode it. If you cannot master it by sunset tomorrow, I will be forced to use a stabilizing artifact during the ceremony. A relic that will ensure your survival, but will permanently suppress your power and bind you to me as a powerless consort."
The threat was immediate and cold. He was offering a terrifying escape, a way to live but it's to live as a bird with clipped wings, enslaved and powerless.
"You won't do that," I whispered, adrenaline still coursing through my veins. "You need the full Sun-Fire to break the curse."
"The bond requires a Solar," Lorcan corrected, a dangerous patience in his voice. "It does not specify how strong the Solar must be. I would rather survive and rule over a slowly dying kingdom than die instantly for the sake of your power. The choice is yours, Seraphina. Burn brightly and fight to keep your freedom, or I will extinguish the flame myself."
He turned and walked away, his shadow retreating from the runes, leaving the Pit silent and intensely cold once more. I stared at the scorched, cracked marble, realizing the game had changed: my survival was no longer enough. Now, I had to fight for my power, too.