As he had in the village, Tieran cut a path through the battle.

His skill was terrifying – and mesmerizing. Enemies melted around him in a flurry of flying limbs, blood, and bodies falling. He did with two sweeps of his sword what Citon and Winlin had done with twenty. Sela cringed at the thought of facing him and his crazed magic. By this point, he was likely mad.

Tieran thinned out the battle fast. Where there had been too many men to see the bushes on the other side, she now saw the bramble at the base of the trees in the bright light of the fire. Sela started forward, eager to feel less vulnerable than she did with her back to the forest. Picking her way through the downed men, she sensed air magic humming around her and glanced up.

Tieran had cornered the wind mage. Whatever Vinian tried to do, he failed, for Tieran slammed him into a tree. The look on the wind mage’s face would have made her laugh, if she did not believe Tieran was about to cleave him in two.

She ran. Too late, she saw his sword swoop down. Citon was there to block, but he was no match for her mage-warrior. Sela skirted the bodies piled in her path and ran to them.

“Stop, Tieran!” she cried, pausing near him to assess how mad he was.

He froze. Her frantic gaze went to Citon, who was straining beneath Tieran’s blade. The mage was unconscious on the ground behind him. Citon was on one knee, blocking the blow Tieran delivered before she called out to him.

Sela closed the distance between them and neared the poised predator that was her warrior.

Neither he nor Citon moved. Sela slid in front of Tieran. His feral gaze was a sign of the magic tormenting him. She reached up to his face and touched his cheeks. When he did not reject her, she leaned into him until their bodies touched and pushed her cool magic into him.

He shuddered as her magic hit his hot blood.

“I owe them a life debt,” she whispered. “You will not hurt them.”

His breathing was erratic. She sensed his sword lower a moment before his other arm circled her. He hauled her against him hard, trapping her against his body. Knowing he was unable to calm if she was tense, Sela forced herself to yield against him. She pulled his face towards hers as she might a startled horse. His eyes closed, and he rested his chin against her temple. She noticed his scent again, the mix of man and sweat. His body was hard and warm, the arm around her strong.

For the first time since they met, Tieran yielded to her. She felt his surrender, and it touched her on a level that left her confused yet pleased. She listened to their breathing. Hers was steady. His became slower, until their rhythms synced. It felt as if there was no one in the world but the two of them, sharing a moment unlike anything she had ever experienced with Karav.

Self-conscious and uncertain why Tieran’s feverish heat was pooling at the base of her belly, she released his face. The intimacy of the moment rattled her. Why did it thrill her?

Tieran straightened, calm and in control once more. He sheathed his sword at his back and looked at the men he was prepared to kill with disinterest. He released her.

“Whatever life debt she owed you, it is repaid,” he snapped at them.

Relieved, Sela almost sighed. She broke their contact and turned to face the others, none of whom had sheathed their weapons in the face of the rabid animal that was her guardian. After a moment, Citon replaced his sword at his hip. The wind mage was wary, the other mage-warrior’s narrowed eyes on Tieran.

“Citon, Winlin, Vinian, meet Tieran,” she said at the thick silence.

“How do you let your warrior stray so far that he barely returns for a battle?” Vinian asked, frowning.

Tieran tensed. Sela glanced up at him, sensing he remained close to snapping. She leaned into him. His arm went to her hip instinctively as her body met his again. She shook her head at Vinian with a glance at Citon, who seemed most able to understand her mage-warrior.

“Inlanders do things differently, Vinian,” Citon said, reading her look. “Will you be traveling with us?” He addressed this question to Tieran. “We could use a guide through the Inlands. I fear we do not have another route back to our homeland.”

“Perhaps.” Tieran’s short answer surprised her. “Do you have gold?”

“Some.” Citon took the response as positive while the two behind him exchanged an uneasy look. “I’ll fetch our horses.”

“I, uh, will accompany you,” Vinian said.

Lord Winlin lowered his sword. His gaze fell to Sela’s, and he offered a faint smile.

“My apologies,” he said with a small bow. He trailed the others.

Sela muttered the foulest curse Karav had taught her as the man who used magic to warp her thoughts left.

“You sound like an Inlander, mage,” Tieran replied.

“If they betray us, kill him first,” she said.

When the others had disappeared into the forest, Tieran stepped away from her. Sela faced him, searching his face to ensure he was normal.

“You want to travel with someone?” she asked. “Why?”

“I may kill them yet.” He struck off into the forest. “Come, mage.”

“Oh, gods,” she murmured. She obeyed, wanting to ask him something else but fearing his answer.

He mounted the horse Karav left for her and offered his hand. She looked at it then up at him, finally taking it. He pulled her up in front of him. She felt his tension and relaxed as much as she could against him.

“Say it,” he ordered quietly.

“Say what?”

“Mage,” he growled.

“Why do you keep leaving?”

He said nothing.

“You are like a caged animal testing its boundaries. When you finally figure them out, I might be dead.” There was more emotion in her voice than she wanted. “You need me as much as I need you. We are both in danger.”

“I don’t want to need you.” The frustration was clear in his voice. “I can handle danger.”

“Can you tell me the fire in your blood will calm under anything other than my touch?” she snapped.

His body had grown tenser in response to hers. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her fully against him. She sighed and gave.

“We belong together. It’s how it is for now. Whether or not we want it to be that way,” she finished. “I cannot survive the Inlands with three kingdoms hunting me. Where do you go that is so urgent, you leave me in danger?”

He said nothing.

“Do you intend to abandon me again?” she prodded.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“It is my concern, not yours, mage.”

“What could possibly be important enough for you to forsake your oath to protect me?”

She did not think he would answer, but when he did, his tone was soft, lethal. “Vengeance,” he said.

She frowned, about to ask him what he meant, when they came into view of the other three, who were mounted and waiting.

“Winlin has strange magic,” she warned him. “He can alter minds. Don’t let him touch you.”

“You found this out how?”

“If you didn’t just leave me-”

“Answer my question,” Tieran growled.

“You know how!” she hissed.

“The mage who proclaims to be pure reveals herself.”

She twisted to see his face, not understanding what sounded like an accusation.

“West?” Citon asked.

“South,” Tieran replied. “West is dangerous.”

“Lead the way,” Lord Winlin said.

Tieran complied and turned his horse south, out of the forest and towards the hilly plains of the Inlands.

“What do you mean? How did I reveal myself?” she asked when they had put some distance between them and the other three.

“You don’t recall what happened?”

“No, I don’t. I told you, he used an enchantment on me.” She thought hard, unable to remember anything beyond Lord Winlin kissing her hand. “Just tell me, Tieran!” She squirmed against him.

“Settle.”

“You don’t get to abandon me then demand –”

“Yield, mage.” The dangerous note in his voice made her want to scream.

Instead, she was forced to comply. Her body was tired and hungry, her head pounding. When she finally relaxed, Tieran spoke.

“He kissed you,” he said, amusement in his voice. “You enjoyed it.”

Her face flamed. “I don’t remember that. Gods, nothing else happened did it?”

“He would not have his head if it had.”

Sela had no idea what to say. Their bond was strong enough that nothing she experienced was lost on Tieran. It was humiliating to think she would never kiss a man without her warrior knowing. It was worse to think she shared her first kiss with a stranger.

“Unfortunate,” she muttered. “It was my first.”

“You jest.”

“You know I don’t!”

“And it was not memorable.” He was almost completely calm after their extended connection.

“No, I guess not,” she agreed. “Though I’m glad you know I enjoyed it, even if I cannot remember.”

“You would remember an Inlander’s kiss.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve seen how you sav…Inlanders treat your women.”

“Few choose to take an oath to a mate. Those who do, treat them differently.”

“I’m afraid I cannot believe you.”

“The same way you do not yet believe I will never hurt you, no matter how mad I am?” he challenged.

“The same way I do not believe I will be alive by the end of tomorrow, because you have your own agenda that doesn’t involve preserving my life.”

“Do not provoke me, mage.”

“What will you do? You won’t hurt me.”

“I will show you how to put that tongue to better use than baiting me.” His grip around her tightened. She grated her teeth at the silent command.

“I imagine it will be as memorable as my first kiss,” she snapped then yielded, head dropping back against his chest.

“Don’t open that door with an Inlander, Sela. You are too innocent to know what’s behind it.”

Frustrated, Sela fell silent, angry with herself for feeling comfortable in his arms. She dozed for the first time since leaving his uncle’s hold. When the horse stopped moving, she woke. The other three were dismounting and preparing to rest. Tieran led her horse to a small copse against the base of a hill and slid off. He lifted her, surprising her with both the reminder of his strength and the size of his hands, which almost circled her waist.

“Thank you,” she murmured as he set her down. He ignored her, and she shook her head to clear it of his scent and warmth.

“I’ll return soon.”

She looked up at him, frowning. “Where do you go this time?”

“Is it your concern?”

“Yes, it is.”

He faced her. Sela almost wished she had not used such a tone. Recalling how she was nearly murdered every time he left, she then crossed her arms and glared at him. When Tieran approached, she took a step back, until her back met the horse’s warm rump, but she did not lower her eyes. Not wanting to be trapped, she started away. He caught her arm and pulled her in front of him.

“You throw down the gauntlet and run?” he asked. “If you challenge me, I will respond. And I will not let you back down.”

“You owe me an explanation,” she mumbled.

“I owe you no such thing.”

Sensing she would lose this battle, She leaned into his warm body before he was able to trap her and looked up at him with what she hoped was a beseeching look.

“Sorry?” She tried. She jumped as his arm circled her and pulled her against him again.

“Watch yourself, mage.”

Sela chose to say nothing. He held her gaze, and she tried not to be aware of how warm he was. His scent was ensnaring her senses in a way that left her feeling almost enchanted again. The steadiness of his gaze, his chiseled features, the muscular frame that moved with inhuman speed and strength ... why was she aware of all of him, his every movement, when she could not recall feeling that way about anyone else?

With his intensity, what would his kiss be like? Certainly she would not forget it!

Embarrassed by the thought, her gaze went to his chest. She rested against him, listening to the sound of his heartbeat and comforted by the heat of his body through his tunic.

“There is more than one way to tame that fire of yours, mage.”

Her face grew hot and confusion spun through her. Was he baiting her?

Tieran moved away from her towards his horse. She watched him mount and turned towards the small fire the others had built beyond the copse.

“Sela.”

She froze, unaccustomed to hearing her name on the savage’s lips and liking how it sounded.

“I can’t be devoted to your protection while the man who murdered my sisters still lives,” he said quietly. “I do not think you understand what it means for me to take my place at your side. I will perform my duty, but I must have my vengeance first. ”

She faced him again. He was impossible for her to read and for once, he was sharing his thoughts.

“I don’t blame you. I’m sorry I appeared before you had your vengeance. You have a duty to me as well. I hope I live through your quest for vengeance,” she murmured, perplexed but impressed he made the effort. “May I ask where you are going?”

“If the gods have any mercy on me, to a whorehouse.”

“What does that have to do with revenge?” she snapped, startled by the flare of anger she experienced at the thought.

“Don’t leave camp, and you’ll be safe.” He mounted the horse without a look at her.

Their peaceful moment broken, Sela whirled and marched back to the camp set up by the three men – men who were, by all rights, her enemies. Tieran was consumed by the need for revenge, even if it meant she died in the process.

The sounds of Tieran’s horse galloping faded. Furious, she sat down with her back against a log and glared at the fire. The other three were passing around rations.

“Where goes your guardian now?” the wind mage demanded, irritated.

“To find a whore, apparently,” she replied. “These Inlanders are savages.”

Citon chuckled. “Are you hungry, mage?”

She shook her head. She did not remember the last time she ate. Telling herself she was not hungry, she knew it was more a sign of mourning. She missed Karav. Exhausted, fatigued, recovering from her wound, she sometimes hoped she might join him and return to the magic.

“I have never witnessed a water mage in action,” Vinian said. “It will be interesting, though I cannot imagine you are more powerful than air.”

“I can be,” she replied in the same haughty tone. “Near the ocean? A large enough lake or river? You couldn’t face me.”

“I dammed you before.”

“I had no guardian at that point. I had no control.”

“True. I imagine I can dam you again, though,” he persisted.

“I fail to see how the air can challenge a force like the ocean,” she retorted.

“I fail to see how you believe it cannot!” he replied. “Air is everywhere. Water is not. I didn’t become the most powerful wind mage in my kingdom without –”

“Like children,” Lord Winlin interrupted, gaze on Citon. “Perhaps I don’t want a ward. How do you handle yours?”

Sela and Vinian both glared at him.

Citon smiled. “You grow accustomed to their tantrums eventually.”

Sela was quiet, brooding alongside the wind mage.

Her hand went to her side. The stitches were painful, itchy, tugging at the skin around her wound. She had no salve to soothe the burn.

She was surprised to hear hoof beats soon after Tieran left. He came into view and dismounted. He could not have gone far, and returned with nothing, which left her more intrigued by his purpose in leaving at all. How was he seeking vengeance by leaving their camp for a few moments?

“We will see who is stronger, mage, when we near the largest lake in Biu,” Vinian said.

“Very well,” she agreed. “Away from our keepers, who do not understand.” She shivered, feeling the chill of pre-dawn in the air.

“Aye. I find it amusing you have no power here and I have all mine, yet you challenge me.”

“I’m a mage as well,” she reminded him. “Where I come from, we are respected and treated equally, even the dreaded she-mage.”

Citon glanced up at her, amused. Tieran strode into camp and all but flung his saddlebags down. He was agitated again. He paced like an edgy predator and rubbed his jaw, pensive, as if something as important as vengeance was on his mind.

“At least I am wanted for my magic, not for the bloodline,” Vinian said.

“When you see what water magic does, you’ll understand,” she replied, eyes on Tieran.

“Nay, mage, you will discover the truth yourself. As powerful as you may be, you are not sought primarily for your magic.”

She frowned at him. “I am the strongest mage. Of course I’m sought for my magic.”

“What he means, Sela, is that these men and all the rest of them pursuing you regard you as a broodmare in heat to be bred,” Tieran interjected.

She stared at him, face hot. “I’m … I am not … did you say broodmare?” she sputtered. “I am not in heat like some animal! And I certainly don’t intend to be bred!” she retorted. “This may be how women are regarded in the Inlands, but I’m of noble birth. You sava –” She swallowed her words.

“You what?” he snapped, facing her.

“Well, if I am a broodmare what are you?” she managed. “A sheep herder?”

“A stallion gelded by an oath taken to a crafty old man who knew what you were when he sold you to me.”

Citon’s rolling laugh filled the air. The wind mage’s mouth gaped in silent offense. Lord Winlin grinned openly.

“My gods,” Sela muttered, rolling her eyes. “I don’t believe this at all. I’m not an animal. I am of value because I can control the seas around my king’s enemies!”

“They don’t deny it, do they?” Tieran challenged. He sat down and pulled free a dagger from his saddlebags, along with a whetting stone. “And you know you’re the source of mages.”

Sela studied all three of the foreigners. The wind mage avoided her gaze while the two mage-warriors exchanged a look.

“He speaks the partial truth,” Citon said at last. “You are wanted for your ability to control the seas and channels around the islands. But wars can last for many seasons, and sometimes, a century. The king who possesses the sole source of magic capable of producing mages will be victorious.”

Her mouth fell open.

“You can produce an army of mages,” Tieran added. “If a war is brewing, what king wouldn’t want you strapped to a bed - ”

“Tieran!” she exclaimed.

“They’ll breed you until you produce enough mages to win a war,” he finished.

“For a savage, you are wise. Your skill with the weapon is unmatched,” Lord Winlin said. “I don’t suppose you can be bribed to join any king’s war?”

“My family is of a mercenary guild. However, my duty now is to prevent a certain water mage from being raped or killed or stabbing herself again,” Tieran responded.

“It's good you think of that now,” she grumbled. “I thought you wanted me dead, so you would be free of me.”

“We tried it. It didn’t work, did it?” Tieran snapped, lifting his eyes from his blade to meet her gaze.

“If we went to my king, he would protect us.”

“And you would be his slave. You said you wanted your freedom. Only here can you be free.”

She looked away, hating that his argument made sense. Whether or not she would be considered a broodmare, she would be forced to murder men at the behest of her king.

The truth was, she had never wanted to hurt anyone and dreaded the idea of going to war. She could not bring herself to kill in self-defense when cornered in the inne, and she would never wipe out an army or entire town unless forced to do so. Karav made her promise she would not obey any order she found immoral or unfair – and murdering was both.

“I like your way of handling mages better than ours,” Lord Winlin said, entertained.

“Speaking of handling, if you ever touch me again without my permission, I will not stop Tieran the next time he wishes to kill you,” Sela said to the unbound mage-warrior.

“Now that sounds like an arrogant mage.” Citon chuckled.

“Peace, mage,” Lord Winlin said and inclined his head. His attention went to Tieran. “I will not. I make that promise to both of you.”

Tieran nodded once, accepting the apology she would have refused.

“I’m not a broodmare,” Sela muttered, stung by the image in her head. She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin on one, feeling exposed and out of place at the notion of being nothing more than an animal in heat.

“Is that what you and your brother would have done to me?” She addressed Lord Winlin.

“Aye. And used you to destroy the other islands. He doesn’t believe in allowing anyone to survive. After you won his war, he would do as Tieran said and strap you down until you produced the amount of heirs he desired.”

She glanced at Tieran, dismayed, and suddenly wondering if that was his plan as well – to use her to create his own empire among the savages.

Tieran rolled his eyes. “No, mage,” her guardian replied. “The Inlands are not like that. We don’t enslave our people for our own glory.”

Sela believed him. From what she had witnessed, the Inlanders were not interested in anything but gold and independence.

“She has not eaten in too long,” Citon said to him. “She grows weak. The period of mourning is almost over, isn’t it?”

“It's over when I say it is,” she replied. “According to the mage code –”

“The one you created?” Tieran challenged.

She glared at him.

“You told him?” the wind mage demanded of her.

“I didn’t! He can read my thoughts!” she replied.

“The period of mourning is over today,” Tieran said firmly.

Ignoring him, Sela stared into the dancing flames. They gradually lulled her into relaxation. The others spoke around her, but her thoughts were on her former guardian. She did not think she could ever let go of him.

Twice she glanced at Tieran. Had he felt this pain when his sisters were murdered? Was he capable of feeling anything?

She crept close to the fire. Dawn came, brightening the dark sky and reminding her she had not slept enough to feel refreshed by the new day.

Soon after, Citon extinguished the fire, and the men rose. Sela pulled herself out of her thoughts and stood as well. The others started towards the horses. She trailed.

“We can rest at the next town then travel tomorrow morning,” Tieran told Citon.

“You think it wise to stop for a day?” Lord Winlin asked.

“We’ll be safe,” Tieran answered.

“We faced some trouble negotiating passage through the Inlands,” Citon responded.

“There will be no trouble.”

Citon and Lord Winlin exchanged a look. He was not answering their concerns. It was unlike Tieran to speak indirectly about anything. What was he hiding? Did he plan to ambush the men and take their gold?

The cold morning sank into her skin, turning her thoughts to her fatigue. Sela shivered, tired and miserable. Tieran mounted and pulled her up in front of him. She welcomed his warmth and relaxed into his arms.

“Inland rules. Do not speak to anyone or look at anyone,” he reminded her quietly. “Understood?”

“Yes,” she grumbled.

All the men but Tieran seemed tense as they rode around a hill towards a small village nestled in a shallow valley. Sela was too tired to tense, and Tieran was comfortable in the lawless Inlands. The town was quiet, its residents not yet awake in the early morning, with the exception of five men on horseback waiting to challenge – or rob – anyone who entered the town.

When they saw Tieran, however, they waved and moved aside, allowing him and his companions through.

Tieran rode up to a five-story inne that bore the symbol of a sword cutting a blade of grass on its sign. He led them to the stables in the back and tossed a copper coin to a dirty boy lingering in the shadows. The boy took their horses.

Sela kept close to her guardian as they entered through the back of the inne, recalling her disgust from the short time spent in the hold of his uncle. She had no intention of being cornered by any Inland savages again.

Tieran nodded in greeting to the innekeeper, who was setting food on the table for a few early travelers. The innekeeper waved.

Tieran led them to a set of stairs and up to the fourth floor.

“Three rooms,” he said, indicating the first three doors on the right. “Keep the doors barred. If you go for food, go armed and in pairs. If you’re challenged, strike first.”

The three nodded, with the wind mage taking the room between the two warriors. Tieran stopped at the fourth door and opened it. Sela hesitated.

“I don’t get my own room?” she asked innocently.

At his look, she entered quickly. He closed the door behind her then dropped his saddlebags on one pallet. Stripping out of his weapons, he placed them with more care on the pallet and pulled off his boots. Satisfied, he stretched out on the other pallet.

Sela frowned at him. “Why are we traveling with them, and why are we really stopping here?”

He lowered his arm from his eyes to look at her. “Do you read my mind?”

“No. But I know you’re hiding something.”

“It's not your concern.”

She threw her cloak at him. “It is indeed my concern!”

“You will go where I tell you to, mage!” Irritated, Tieran sat up and flung the cloak away.

“I will not!”

Tieran stood. Instead of backing down, she crossed her arms.

“I have a right to know my own fate,” she added. “You said I was free. This is not freedom!”

He eyed her and took a step towards her. Sela retreated while refusing to cede the point. When her back hit the wall, she sucked in a breath, waiting.

Tieran placed his palms against the wall behind her and braced an arm on either side of her head. He leaned down until their eyes were even, their noses almost touching.

“We stopped here, because I’m going to kill the man who murdered my sisters, mage.” The words, spoken softly, carried the full weight of his conviction and fury.

“I won’t be used for vengeance,” she reminded him.

“I don’t need you. I plan to do it myself.” After a breath or two, he dropped his arms and returned to the bed, flinging himself down again.

She leaned her head back. If anything, she was irritated Tieran had yet to see a use in traveling with a mage. He claimed not to need her. Was it because he doubted her, or because he wanted to do this himself?

A confrontation with him always left her drained. She sighed in exhaustion.

“Come here, mage,” he said. “I know you cannot sleep alone.”

“I’m not sleeping with you,” she retorted.

“If I have to come to you …”

“Must everything be a threat?”

“Now.”

Sela hurried forward, hating herself for reacting to his tone. She sat on the pallet and pulled off her boots then settled with her back to his side, as she used to Karav. It was harder to relax here than on the horse.

“He’s gone.”

“I know that.”

“You think of him often,” Tieran observed.

“What I think about is not your concern.”

The pallet rustled, and he shifted behind her. Sela almost objected when Tieran wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her into his body. He placed his other beneath her neck, jostling her until she relented and lifted her head to allow his bicep to fill the space between her head and shoulder. Sela started to wriggle out of his grip, uncomfortable with the warmth streaking through her body.

“Settle, mage,” Tieran growled. He wrapped his arm around her neck and brought her head back to his shoulder.

With a sigh, she obeyed. Her body went lax. She did not want to be comfortable in his arms, but she was. With the wall of strength at her back and his secure grip, he made her feel more fragile than she wanted to be and safer than she had felt since setting foot in the Inlands. He was warm and solid, his body molded against hers.

“No more starving yourself or refusing to sleep.” Tieran’s voice was quiet.

“I’m in-”

“You are trying to join him in the water magic or whatever it is you believe will happen if you kill yourself. I hear those thoughts.”

She strained against him.

“Karav is gone. Refusing me or harming yourself won’t bring him back.”

Sela stilled, focusing on her breathing. She did not want to admit he was right. She did not want to let go of Karav because that meant accepting that her life relied on a savage consumed by vengeance.

“Murdering your sisters’ killer won’t bring them back either,” she pointed out.

“No, it won’t.” Tieran’s tone was clipped. “But it might let me sleep at night without dreaming about how they died.”

Sela chewed her lower lip. Pain was in his tone. She did not want to admit the infuriating guardian she did not want was capable of emotion and depth. To acknowledge his suffering would threaten the buffer she had placed between them.

“You wish me to take my place at your side and yet you fail to accept yours is at mine, Sela,” he said, hearing the thoughts.

The unexpected gentleness in his roughened voice bothered her. She was able to deal with his domineering orders, but learning there was another side to him made it impossible for her to keep the distance between them she desperately wanted.

The pain and fatigue within her unfurled.

Karav was gone. She belonged to Tieran, who had been chosen by Karav himself to take care of her. She had no idea where she was going next, how they were going to survive the Inlands with so many enemies, whether she would ever return to her home again. She did not trust her warrior, whose duty to her was second to his vendetta, and did not know what alternative there was to staying with him.

Admitting any of this aloud, trusting Tieran, meant placing herself in a position where she would be vulnerable again. After losing Karav, she could not bear such a thought. Not when the pain remained fresh.

And yet … as different as Tieran was, there was much about him she found herself admiring, against her better judgment. If he stepped up and accepted his duty, he would be unrivaled, a mage-warrior matching those of legend. His potential left her in awe, while his obstinacy infuriated her. Was it possible to admire him and hate him at the same time?

If Tieran read these thoughts, he said nothing. It was a small mercy but one she appreciated.