Apprentice (The Black Mage, #2)(48)

"You did this!" I turned on him. "You always do this. You swoop in and ruin my life and then you run away leaving me to pick up the pieces! Haven't you done enough?"

His eyes stayed on my face. "Ryiah. I'm not running away. I'm in lo-"

"Don't!" I clapped my hand over his mouth, suddenly afraid. "Don't you dare say it!"

Darren stared down at me, two flames dancing across my vision. My hand trembled.

"You had your chance," I continued bitterly. "There was no one else and you chose her. Not me. Priscilla, Darren! You are still with her."

"Ryiah, it's not that simple!"

"But it should be!" I cried desperately. "It is with Ian!"

"Are you really in love with him?" Darren asked quietly.

My eyes stung and I forced myself to walk away. I was too afraid of what I might do if I stayed with the non-heir a moment longer.

"You don't love him." Darren's voice chased after me. Haunting me. "If you did, you wouldn't have kissed me back. Not like you did."

I didn't reply. I was too busy running away.





CHAPTER TEN





I liked misery. It was the only possible explanation for why after four weeks of awkward silence and long pauses there was still no answer to Ian's question. It was wrong to draw out my decision …but it seemed like every time Ian's name came to my lips I would remember Darren and a little part of me would shatter.

Why are you stalling, Ryiah? It was ridiculous. Darren was with Priscilla. He was a prince. There was no hope in saying yes to the boy with the garnet eyes who left me reckless and confused at every turn. There was no future with him. None. Darren had duty. To the Crown. Gods only knew Priscilla and Blayne had spent enough time reminding me of that.

And I was not – would never be - a mistress.

"Concentrate, apprentices, if I have to say it one more time I am going to have all of you take turns serving as your partner's mark for this exercise."

No matter how well he can kiss.

A surge of heat sprung from my hands and I sent my casting crashing into sky beyond. The bolt shimmered in the air, a brilliant flash of gold, and then it was gone. My jaw dropped. Lightning. I had just cast lightning.

"Ry," Eve said to my left, impressed. "How did you do that?"

Several others had turned to stare as well and I felt myself blushing under the attention. The younger apprentices had been trying for weeks to successfully cast the most infamous of all weather magic… I had been the first one of my year to successfully manage it.

"I – I don't know," I stammered. I tried again, holding my breath and summoning the same projection as before. Nothing.

"Weather castings feed off emotions," Master Byron noted dryly, "they are a charge to heighten one's magic. Whatever Ryiah was thinking about before her casting clearly had the intensity she needed. Lightning requires focus, but it channels emotions with it… Apprentice, perhaps you would like to share what you were thinking of before?" His words had a bitter edge and I could tell he was disappointed his favorite, the prince, hadn't been the first one to cast the magic.

"I…" Darren's lips on mine, a dark hallway with just the two of us. No, there was no way I was going to tell the class about that. "I don't remember."

"I highly doubt that, Ryiah. The charge to produce lightning requires a very intense emotion – one that would not be forgotten so easily." Byron was frowning and by this time I could see Darren and Ian further down the line looking at me with interest – and suspicion.

Why? Why did I always have bad timing? Why couldn't I be good at the one thing that demanded focus – not fevered daydreams in the middle of class? Embarrassment crept up the back of my neck and I willed myself to pretend I was anywhere else, somewhere quiet and alone where the Master of Combat couldn't draw attention to my secret fantasies.

"Perhaps it's something Ryiah would prefer to keep private." My gaze shot to Darren as he added, "Something she'd rather not describe…"

My whole face was aflame. When I finally looked I could see Ian scowling at the non-heir who had turned back to the sky with a not-so-innocent expression.

A second later there was a bright flash of yellow and a stark white display as lightening crashed in the air above. Only this time it hadn't come from me.

"Well done, Darren!" Master Byron was full of praise for the prince. "What did you use to cast it?"

Darren's eyes found mine. "Something I don't regret."

There was a tightening, something pulling at my lungs. I made myself look away.

"D-don't regret?" Byron was lost, unsure how to respond to Darren's vague answer. The rest of the class, all of whom had been in the ballroom during my fight with Ian, had a pretty good idea. Priscilla was glaring daggers at me. I didn't have the slightest doubt that if she tried to cast her lightning from her emotions now, she would be successful. That seemed the last thing on the girl's mind, however, as she stormed out of practice – not caring that we hadn't been formally dismissed.

The Master of Combat didn't seem to notice. He was too busy studying the prince and me. A sour expression formed on his thin lips. The second Byron released our faction I took off, not wanting to be there when the man aptly deduced why Darren and I had been the only ones to successfully cast in the day's lesson.