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Glow (The Plated Prisoner #4)(92)

Author:Raven Kennedy

A damn nudging hand at my arm stops me.

“Actually, I’d like you to get up now.”

I stop and look up at him. “For what?”

“Training.”

I frown. “I train with Judd at night.”

His expression is unreadable. “You’re not training with Judd.”

My attention snares, our eyes tangling together. “I’m training with you.” It’s not a question, but his head tips down in a nod nonetheless, while mine shakes. “I can’t yet.”

He arches a brow. “Why not?”

Excuses clog up in the back of my throat like a newly formed dam until I’m running dry. I automatically resist, anxiety sloshing against my internal barrier. But then my determined words come leaking through the cracks to my ear.

The next time someone wants to try and use me, control me, I want to be ready.

That’s what I said to Judd.

I want to master my own strength—physically and magically.

That’s what I told Slade.

I can’t do those things if I don’t learn to control my magic. So I swallow hard, trying to dam up the flooding fear.

“Okay.”

Pride flashes over his face. “Get ready, and then we’ll go.”

Every step I take from the Grotto is made with tightly strung nerves. They’re braided around my bones, twined around my chest, woven so thoroughly throughout my body that every step is stiff with apprehension.

This is my first time being out of the Grotto. My eyes sting as we step out of the cave and into the veiled daylight, my hand a shield above my eyes as I take in the wintry landscape. The mouth of the cave has been shoveled, with the barest scrap of a stone pathway visible below a layer of sand and salt.

“This way.”

I follow Slade out and to the right where we trudge up another shoveled path. Although the storm has broken, the sky is still cloaked with clouds, a slight wind chafing my cheeks. This strip of Deadwell has a shore of flat snowfall and a rising tide of mountains at my right. One of them bends over slightly like a comber wave, and there’s a shelf protruding from its belly, keeping us in perpetual shade.

I tighten my arms around myself, hands buried in my pockets as we travel up a slight incline around the mountain’s base.

“We’re almost there,” he tells me when he notices me starting to breathe harder. “It’s far enough away from everything.”

That gives me some peace of mind, but even so, I’m too nervous about the training to get any real comfort. We could walk to the very peak of this mountain and I’m not sure it would be far enough.

He nudges my arm. “It will be fine, Auren.”

I appreciate the reassurance, but I don’t have the same certainty.

“You saw me in the ballroom,” I say, more harshly than I mean to.

“I did,” he replies. “And it showed me how incredibly powerful and strong you are. Which means you can master it.”

Pressing my lips together, I keep my eyes on my feet, while my anxiety twists and twines.

“Watch your step. The path will be a bit steeper from here.”

The snow is piled higher here, and there is no discernible path, but it’s not as stacked up as it is to the left of us. We only make it a few more paces when someone calls out behind us. “Your Majesty!”

We stop, both of us turning to see a man hurrying forward. He’s wearing a thick coat with a deep fur collar stretching all the way up his throat, and on his arm is a large messenger hawk, its chest dotted with brown and white speckles. “Believe this is for you, Sire.”

The man flicks his gaze to me, eyes widening as he takes me in. I try to give him a smile, but he quickly looks away.

As soon as Slade reaches him, the bird instantly lets out a shrill purr before holding out its leg to him. Slade strokes its neck and then takes the vial from its leg. He unrolls the scroll, eyes flicking back and forth over the paper. He’s turned slightly away from me, but from his profile, I see a frown appear on his brow. I walk over, a sense of unease building in my gut.

“What’s wrong?” I ask when I’m right behind him.

His shoulders tense up, but only for a moment. “Nothing,” he says before he takes the scroll and shoves it into his pocket. He looks back up at the man while giving the bird another pet. “Thanks, Selby.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. What should I do with him?”

“Let him rest in the Perch. I’ve no need for him.”

The man nods and then turns away with the bird in tow, disappearing down the incline.

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