“And that’s what your real aim was,” I said.

“Obviously.”

“You know.” The Paragon removed his glasses and set them on his living desk. “I don’t think Queen Nyte would have been quite so offended about your reveal if you hadn’t made her into a footnote for one of your political pushes. It makes her feel unimportant.”

“She is unimportant.”

“Weren’t you asking me just minutes ago to handle her? She can’t be that unimportant.”

Killian ignored the Paragon and settled his obsidian-red eyes on me. “Read the book, Hazel.”

I didn’t particularly want to do what he told me, but the book was interesting, and I had just found a section that detailed the use of raw magic.

As a wizard, I filtered raw magic through my blood to make it useable. Wizards transformed it into whatever they wanted—lightning, fire, etc—but we could also handle the filtered magic at its purest form.

No one did much with it because it didn’t really have any properties to it. It didn’t burn like fire or zap like electricity. It just…was. But based on the illustrations it looked like in the past wizards managed to forge it into something useful.

I flipped through the pages, hoping for an illustration that might reveal more and occasionally pausing to listen to the exchanged banter between the Paragon and Killian.

Over the next hour I found several interesting illustrations that seemed like I might be able to use, though it was going to take a lot of experimentation.

“We need to leave.” Killian frowned down at his gold watch.

“Thank you for letting me look at this book, Paragon.” I scooted off the chair and approached the pair, holding the book out.

The Paragon scratched his cheek, muttering in irritation when he poked himself with his sculpted mustache. “Take it with you and borrow it for now, Hazel Medeis,” he said. “I can only assume His Eminence will come barging back in a month or two to upset my peaceful abode again. You can bring it with you then.”

I studied the tattered book. “That would be a big help—since it’s only pictures, my guesses are pretty cryptic about getting any of this to actually work.”

“Splendid. Books love to be read, so everyone will win. Oh—though you must seek Aphrodite’s permission, first,” the Paragon said.

Killian stared at the fae. “You want her to ask your cat if she can borrow a book?”

“Of course! She is the guardian of my domicile.”

“What does she do? Make any potential invader stupid at the sight of her bulging belly?”

“You toad! Take that back right now!”

I left the pair and picked my way around a foosball table so I could approach the hairless cat. I saw the way she peered at me over the edge of her pet bed with glittering eyes, so I wasn’t about to question the necessity of asking her permission or not.

“Aphrodite, can I borrow this book?”

The cat blinked twice, then flipped on her back with an agreeable “Mmret”.

“She has agreed!” The Paragon excitedly clapped his hands.

“This is so stupid,” Killian grumbled.

“If that is how you feel, then begone—go on, now. Shoo!” The Paragon made a shooing motion with his hand.

Killian rolled his eyes as I joined him.

“Thank you for lending me the book,” I said.

The Paragon fumbled with his unicorn coin purse. “Of course, of course. Be sure to bring it back when you come again—and bring me an ice cream cake!”

We were battered by wind, and when I opened my eyes we were back in the ice cream aisle of the grocery store.

“Did you find anything of worth?” Killian led the way down the aisle and up to the front doors.

“I think so. I’m going to have to experiment, but it had some interesting illustrations—if I’m interpreting them correctly.”

“Excellent.” He checked his watch again when we left the store and stood outside under the moonlight. “Celestina will take you home. I have a meeting I need to attend.”

“Okay. I’ll see you back at Drake Hall?”

“Yes.” He glanced down at me.

I wasn’t entirely sure what to do, so I smiled.

Killian stared at me for several long seconds. He then abruptly grabbed my hand and stretched it up so he could delicately sniff my wrist. He dropped my wrist and slightly shook his head, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Why do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Smelling me.”

Killian shrugged. “Read your book when you get home.”

This, of course, meant Killian wasn’t going to tell me why, which made me a little wary. Did he have a dastardly plan? Or was he trying to figure out if I trusted him? But my trust in him only affected the taste of my blood, it was a vampire’s trust in me that affected how my blood smelled to them.

The motorcade pulled up, and Killian slid into the front car before I could so much as blink.

“Hazel,” Celestina called from the back car.

I shook my head then trotted to Celestina. Forget Killian’s weirdness—I needed to work on my magic and track down the House Medeis signet ring. He could have his mysteries for all I cared—just as long as they didn’t threaten my life.

I threw myself into practicing my magic with a frenzy driven by the need to get House Medeis back. And it didn’t hurt that if I focused on my magic I didn’t have to dwell on my parents’ actions.

It had been my parents who sealed my magic…and they never told me about it.

I had gone through life picked on, looked down on, and bullied because I had barely any magic at all, even though I was the Heir to House Medeis.

I had lost House Medeis because of that lack of magic when Mason—my distant cousin who was also a member of House Medeis—had threatened to kill off friends and family who belonged to House Medeis if I didn’t marry him and make him the leader of the House.

Without magic, I couldn’t fight back. Everyone in House Medeis—everyone I loved—sacrificed themselves for me to see that I made it out alive. They were still under his control, and given his many allies, they couldn’t fight back either.

All of this because my parents had sealed me.

To make matters even worse, the condition they put on breaking the seal? It was the desire to kill.

House Medeis is a House of peace-lovers. They don’t believe in killing—even in self-defense—and they don’t look highly at fighting either.

My parents made the condition of the seal something that went against the foundation of House Medeis.

I didn’t regret my decision to take out Solene-the-crazy-vampire—which was what cracked the seal on my magic. I’d never regret killing a murderer or stepping in to protect those important to me—Celestina, Josh, and yes, even Killian.

But it made me wonder why my parents had done it, when it was something they personally would have abhorred. Had they wanted me to live a life without magic and to experience pain that wasn’t necessary?

It was easier to push it to the back of my mind and forget about it.

So I experimented with magic and embraced my packed training schedule—and the new clothes Killian had ordered for me. I now had pants and a shirt made of soft but durable fabric that didn’t give me rugburn when I skidded in it, as well as a black jacket that had the texture of leather but conformed to my movements like a plant-based material. (They smelled like fae magic, so I was guessing Killian had them made for me.)

“This isn’t an official match.” I eyed Tasha—the female vampire Celestina had paired me against for the day.

“If you say so, Wizard.” Tasha smiled all too beautifully.

“Look, I want to practice a move, but if you’re going to be serious about this like Gavino, Chancer, and Dimitri all claimed they were, then I can’t try out this new type of magic.”

Tasha looked as innocent as a summer’s day. “Wizard,” she said. “They did not claim to be serious in their fights against you, they were. It’s why you have climbed ranks within the Family.”

“Yeah, right.” I set my hands on my hips and stared up at the night sky and the moths fluttering around the bright lampposts—Celestina had sent us to practice outside for ‘educational purposes’. “Look, can I practice this, or not?”

Tasha gave me a showy bow, which I took as an agreement.

I took a deep breath and extended my katana, pointing at Tasha.

Lightning jumped from my sword and danced in front of me, slowly creating a wall between the two of us.

The lightning hissed and spat when Tasha batted at it. “My,” she said. “That is quite dangerous indeed.”

I tried to extend the lightning around me to create a barrier, but I couldn’t manage it. The lightning was too unstable, and I nearly lost it.

It was certainly better than the fire barriers I had tried—Chancer hadn’t even paused at that. It was better than the ice wall I had tried to make—Dimitri had punched through it as if it were tissue paper.

But sweat dripped down my spine, and my temple pounded with the effort it took to contain and control the lightning—which is by nature far more volatile.

Tasha batted at it again, almost shattering my tenuous control.

Nope, a defensive wall of lightning wasn’t going to work. I needed a different medium.

I cut off my magic, letting the wall fizzle out. “Thanks, Tasha, that helped a lot!” I broke into a yelp when Tasha lunged for me, her red eyes bright.

I ducked just in time, and she barely cleared my head, her nails stirring strands of my blond hair as she passed.

“You said this wouldn’t be an official match!” I adjusted my grasp on my katana as I swung around to face her, using my momentum to swing my sword in a diagonal cut.

Tasha was nowhere near me, but it hadn’t been my aim to stab her.

Lightning jumped off my katana. Tasha dodged it, but I was already following through with a slice that unleashed another wave of lightning on her.