Episode 7: I Didn’t Ask For This

Back to: A Mirror of Shadows

I couldn’t sleep.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw flashes of gold light crawling over his skin, the runes burning patterns along his muscles like veins of molten metal. I could still feel the heat of him, the echo of that moment when the air between us had turned alive.

When I opened my eyes, my heart was still racing.

The magical energy in the Shard seemed to be louder this morning, ramping up my anxiety.

Like something had changed last night that affected more than just me or Slate.

I sat up, my body stiff and sore, and pressed my palm over the mark beneath my shirt. Slate and I were magically connected the moment he claimed me for his team, but our connection was so much deeper than I realized.

What in the world had happened between us last night?

I held a trembling hand in front of my face, remembering the way it had felt to touch him. To feel the heat of his body as whatever lay sleeping inside him reacted to me.

Had those markings always been there?

The look of surprise on his face as they appeared made me think he had no idea they existed. But how was that possible, when I had seen them in my dreams?

What was really going on in this place? And why was I really here?

These questions plagued my mind as I got dressed. I needed answers, but I also needed to hurry. The morning air was cooler than normal, and the bell had already started to sound, vibrating through the walls by the time I tied my boots. I forced myself to move faster, even though exhaustion clung to me like fog.

When I finally reached the training ring, the others were already there.

Slate stood at the center of the arena, black uniform immaculate, posture rigid. There was no sign of markings or glowing runes on his body, and his expression gave away nothing. If he felt even an ounce of what had passed between us last night, he’d buried it so deep that not even the Shard could find it.

He didn’t look at me. Not once.

My magic responded to his presence anyway. It was faint at first, but the moment his voice filled the space, the vibration of my core power deepened, spreading through me.

I fought to keep my face neutral. No one here had any idea of what had happened privately between the two of us. I had to act as if everything was normal.

At least until I could find time to pull him aside or find him alone.

Slate stepped closer and the pillar next to him trembled, as if afraid of his presence. The first sign that whatever had awakened inside him had not gone back to sleep. The markings may have disappeared, but something was different about him.

Calli mentioned it first. “What was that?”

“The Shard’s reacting to his temper,” Brim said under his breath. “Something’s got him riled up this morning. Can’t you feel it?”

Elara smiled, eyes wild with excitement. “It means he’s going to push us until we bleed.”

Orion sighed. “At least there’s one person in our group who’s excited at the thought of us all being tortured.”

Slate didn’t comment. He only turned, voice calm but cutting. “Formation.”

I stepped into line beside Calli, forcing myself to focus. But my pulse refused to steady, no matter how hard I tried to control it.

Slate barked new commands, and the sharpness of his tone left no room for hesitation. Every movement had to be exact, every strike deliberate.

Unfortunately, my magic hadn’t gotten the memo.

I was messing up at every turn. When I focused too hard, my power surged. When I tried to rein it in and control it, my access to it vanished entirely.

I could feel his judgment like static dancing across my skin as I attempted the crystal control exercise for the fifth straight time.

“Again,” Slate called.

I gritted my teeth and summoned another thread of light, aiming for the first target.

My magic sparked wildly, snapping across the air like a whip.

Brim swore as he jumped out of the way. “Careful, witch!”

“I’m trying!”

My voice came out louder than I meant it to, echoing across the ring.

Slate’s expression didn’t change. “Control it.”

The mark beneath my skin flared in response to his tone, heat spreading across my collarbone. I forced a deep breath, but the effort only made my vision blur. The light twisted out of control, striking the pillar behind him and shattering it in an explosion of violet shards that sent me flying backward.

Hot tears stung my eyes as shards of crystal dug into the skin on my face, hands, and arms. I never even knew I had magic like this, but I was expected to completely master it under the most stressful conditions possible. I couldn’t do this.

When the dust cleared, Slate was already there. He didn’t touch me. He just crouched beside where I’d landed. And even then, having him this close for the first time all day made my head swim.

How in the hell was he so calm?

“You’re lucky the pillar absorbed most of that,” he said between clenched teeth. “You could have killed yourself.”

“I didn’t mean to,” I muttered, but the words sounded weak, even to me.

What I wanted to say was I have no idea what I’m doing. Then again, that was painfully obvious to everyone standing here.

I didn’t belong in this group, and I was going to put them all in danger if I didn’t get my act together.

“Whether or not you meant to doesn’t matter,” Slate said. “Control does.”

He stood and motioned to a nearby Sentinel.

“Take her to Lavender. Make sure the damage isn’t internal. We compete in less than two weeks, and I need her to be capable of battle.”

That was it.

No concern. No softness. All he cared about was that I could fight.

He was acting as if nothing had happened between us at all, and it was seriously pissing me off.

As the Sentinel helped me up, Slate turned away, already giving new orders to the rest of the team. My anxiety spiked again. Not because of his orders, but from watching him walk away from me.

Because of his uniform, I couldn’t tell if the markings that appeared were still there today. All I knew was that he’d closed himself off from me, and whatever it was I was feeling about him right now needed to be closed off, too.

Thinking of him had seriously messed up my ability to focus and control my magic, and ‌it was putting everyone here in danger. Including me.

The more I thought about it on the way to see Lavender, the angrier I became. Just who did he think he was, anyway? Threatening me. Acting as though I was the one manipulating him this whole time?

He was the one who refused to show even the slightest indication of what happened between us. As if it hadn’t completely rocked his entire world the way it had mine.

Well, I was done with his stubborn, egotistical attitude.

If he wanted to put distance between us and focus only on the upcoming Games, then so be it. I would work as hard as I could, practicing until I’d used up every ounce of my power, if that’s what it took. I’d climb until my fingers bled if I had to.

I was going to show them all that whether I belonged here or not, I was capable of winning these Games. I would find my way to freedom someday, no matter what it took.

I just needed to see to this injury first. Something definitely did not feel right, and as much as I hated to admit it, I needed some help to get back on my feet.

The infirmary glowed with a soft amethyst light, and the air smelled faintly of lavender and mint, a soothing combination that made me instantly calmer, even as irritation still churned under my skin.

Lavender was alone, bent over a cauldron that steamed in rhythmic bursts. When she turned, her pale hair caught the light like spun glass.

“Bex. Another injury?” Her tone carried equal parts warmth and worry. “You’re bleeding. What happened?”

“I lost control,” I muttered, sinking onto the nearest bench. “Slate demanded I see you, just to make sure everything is okay.”

“And is it?” A smile tugged at her lips, as if she knew a secret she didn’t want to share.

My cheeks warmed. Could she tell how I felt about him?

“I feel…wrong,” I said. “Like the Shard keeps reaching for something in me I don’t even know how to reach for myself. If I hold back, it spikes. If I let go, it tries to take everything. I don’t know where the balance is. I’ve never felt this way before.”

She nodded and hummed softly as she uncorked a vial of shimmering green liquid.

“The Shard is awakening your true magic,” she said. “The more you fight it, the more erratic it will become.”

“I wasn’t fighting it,” I said with a sigh. “I was fighting him.”

Lavender looked up, amusement on her face.

“Ah, I see.”

She dipped a cloth into the potion and began cleaning the small cuts along my arms. I inhaled sharply as the mixture stung my skin. It wasn’t exactly painful, but it wasn’t pleasant either.

I waited for her to elaborate on her comment, but when she didn’t, I pressed her.

“What do you know about Slate?” I said it in a whisper, not wanting the Sentinels outside to hear me. “How long has he been here?”

“I know he’s not what you think he is.” She hesitated, gaze distant for a heartbeat, as if deciding how much she should share. “He’s been here longer than anyone I’ve ever met. Some say the Shard itself created him. Others think he volunteered.”

“Volunteered for what?”

She gave a small, almost wistful smile. “For a lifetime of chains he can never escape.”

That wasn’t an answer. Not really.

I frowned, staring at the way her hands moved as she worked. “And what does that mean exactly? That he can never go free? Even if he wins the Games?”

Lavender didn’t look up. “It means there is a darkness here most people refuse to see. And when you’ve been here as long as Slate and I have been, you no longer have a choice but to see it. To become a part of it.”

A chill swept through me. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m saying there is more to this ancient realm than even the Regent herself understands.” She looked up, meeting my eyes. “And just like Slate, I do not think you are here by accident.”

My fingers drifted toward the dragonfly pendant hidden beneath my tunic. I pulled it free to show her, and the crystal wings pulsed faintly against my fingertips.

“You recognize this, don’t you? Slate did, too. What does it mean?”

Lavender’s eyes dipped to the pendant. For a moment, surprise flashed in her violet eyes, and her lips parted.

“You don’t know who she is, do you?”

She? Was this another reference to the person Slate had mentioned? Sabine? I wanted to ask her, but a sharp knock at the door cut me off.

A Sentinel’s voice followed. “Time’s up. Warden’s orders.”

Lavender sighed in frustration. She moved quickly, pressing a small vial into my hand. The liquid inside shimmered between gold and violet, like trapped sunlight.

“For when your strength falters,” she said quietly. “And, Bex…”

She met my gaze, her voice barely a whisper.

“Be careful. Whatever is happening between you and the Warden, it’s more dangerous than either of you know.”

I avoided her gaze, unsure how she could tell something had happened between us. Had he told her? Or was I really so transparent? I turned the vial in my hand, the glass warm against my skin.

“I’m not afraid of him,” I lied.

“Of course not,” she said softly. “But you should be afraid of what the two of you might become.”

Her words sent chills through me, but there was no more time to question her. The Sentinels escorted me back through the corridors in silence. The hum of the Shard was louder now, like the entire realm was warning me of danger.

But I’d been in danger from the moment I followed Amelia into the Hall of Doorways. And I was still alive, wasn’t I? I had to find a way to balance myself here. To survive.

By the time we reached the training ring, the others were already running combat drills. The sound of crystal and steel collided in sharp bursts that made my head ache.

Slate had shifted the ring into a multi-tiered arena, platforms rising and lowering on timed pulses of light. A violet banner flickered over the far wall, and two crystal orbs hovered near the ceiling.

“With two weeks left, it’s time to train in more realistic scenarios. This is more like something you would see inside the Games,” he said without a glance in my direction. “Timed objectives. Moving terrain. Enemies that never get tired.”

He snapped his fingers. Two constructs unfolded from the floor. They were made of faceted crystal and shadow, shaped to look almost human but with too-long arms and no eyes. They weren’t sentient, but I had a feeling they’d still hit as hard, if not harder, than any live opponent.

“The objective is simple. Secure the banner and protect the two orbs until you hear the chime. If one of you drops, you all fail.”

We ran it three times. And we failed three times.

First, because Elara got pinned on a lowering platform. Second, because Brim turned back to criticize me for going too slow. The entire group ended up in an argument about the most efficient way to get to the banner, and the constructs took advantage of the distraction, reaching the banner first.

The third time, it was my fault. My magic surged too hot when the platform dropped under my feet, and I overcorrected, blasting the crystal construct clear across the arena. It might have been an impressive show of power had it not knocked Calli off balance, causing her to drop the orb.

Calli laughed. “Whoa, calm down. We’ve already had one trip to the infirmary today.”

I grinned despite myself and flicked my fingers, sending a faint thread of magic that tugged her pigtail loose. She gasped in mock offense, then retaliated, hitting me square in the chest with a harmless burst of glamour that temporarily turned my armor pink.

Elara clapped from the steps, where she’d been waiting for us to start again. “Finally. Someone’s learning to loosen up and have a little fun.”

“I’m pretty sure fun is forbidden,” I said, laughing as I wiped glitter from my sleeve.

But before the laughter could fade, Slate’s voice cut through the air like a blade. “Enough.”

The sound froze everyone mid-breath. My pulse jumped as I turned toward him. His silver eyes met mine for the first time all day, cool and unreadable.

“Do you think this is a joke?” he asked, his voice carrying easily across the ring. “Showing off and losing focus is how entire teams die in the first challenge.”

The laughter evaporated, and I felt every eye turn toward me.

“I wasn’t showing off,” I said, heat rising in my throat. “We were just—”

“Just wasting time,” he interrupted. “You of all people cannot afford that right now.”

“If you have such little faith in me, maybe you shouldn’t have picked me for your team in the first place.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them, sharp and reckless. For a fraction of a second, his composure cracked. A flash of emotion crossed his face. Anger. Frustration.

Then it was gone. He turned away. “Try it again, and this time take it seriously.”

I clenched my jaw as I watched him walk away. Maybe Lavender was right. Whatever was happening between us was dangerous. Not because I was afraid of him, but because every time he looked at me, I forgot what I was fighting for.

The next morning, the tension hadn’t eased.

Slate’s commands came sharper, colder. He’d increased the difficulty of every drill, added longer runs, shorter rests. Even Orion broke a sweat as we worked.

We’d moved from repetitive drills to more realistic Shadow Games scenarios, testing our magic against monsters made of shadows and obstacle courses rigged with endless traps.

By midday, the team was bleeding and exhausted. Sweat dripped into my eyes as I tried to hold my focus steady through another precision challenge, but my power kept slipping.

“Again until it’s right,” Slate ordered.

I bit back a groan and summoned another thread of light, pushing it toward the target crystal. It snapped apart halfway, flaring too hot, too fast. The blast singed the edges of the crystal, and Slate’s head whipped toward me.

“You aren’t even trying.”

My teeth clenched. “I’m doing the best I can.”

“You’re overthinking,” he said sharply. “Learn to control it.”

“I can’t control it when you’re standing so close to me,” I snapped, the words leaving my mouth before I could stop them.

It would have been fine except that he was nowhere near me. He was clear across the ring, but I could feel his every movement as if he were standing right next to me.

The air stilled. Even Brim froze mid-step as the tension between us rose.

Slate’s eyes met mine, cutting straight through me. “You’re not ready for this.”

“How could anyone be ready for this place?” My chest burned as I spoke, anger pulsing through me. “I didn’t ask for this, but now I’m here, and it’s your job to teach me. So if I’m not ready, that’s on you. Maybe you don’t really want me to learn.”

He stepped closer, shadows gathering in his silver eyes. “You think I’m your enemy?”

“I think you want me to fail.”

His expression hardened, the anger flashing there so real it made me flinch. “If I wanted you to fail, you’d already be dead.”

For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. The Shard hummed beneath my feet.

“Maybe you should’ve left me in the dungeon,” I said. “That would’ve been easier for all of us.”

He moved so fast I didn’t see it coming. One second, he was across the ring. The next, he was standing so close, the air between us hummed with power.

“Do you have any idea what I’ve risked just to keep you alive?” he said, voice low and dangerous. “You think I enjoy watching you stumble through every order I give? Every mistake you make risks us all. This isn’t a schoolyard game, Bex. It’s life or death.”

I held back tears, my pulse hammering in my chest. “Then stop treating me like a child who doesn’t belong here.”

His eyes narrowed. “Earn your place, and I won’t have to.”

The silence that followed was electric as our eyes locked. Every breath between us charged, burning. I hated him for those words. For all the things I couldn’t say. All the things I didn’t understand.

I hated him for being right.

And yet, part of me wanted nothing more than to lift my hand and touch him again. My entire body trembled with the yearning of it, even as my mind told me to hate him.

The floor shuddered once, faint as a heartbeat, rooting my feet to the ground. Light fractured across the ring, bending toward the terrace in ribbons of violet and silver.

For a moment, I thought it was my magic reacting to him again, but then everyone around us gasped. We both turned to see her standing on the terrace above us, framed by the cold violet light of the false sun.

The Regent’s expression was neutral, but her eyes gleamed with something more. Like a cat watching mice caught in a trap.

“Well,” she said, voice smooth and amused. “This is quite the display of discipline.”

Slate went rigid, stepping back as though distance could erase the growing tension between us.

“Regent,” he said tightly, bowing his head.

She descended the stairs with calm confidence, her footsteps echoing across the training area as she approached. Every movement was controlled. Predatory.

“I told you to break her,” she said softly, looking me up and down. “But from where I stand, it seems she’s still very much in one piece.”

My blood went cold. What exactly did she expect him to do to me?

“She’ll be ready for the Games,” Slate said.

“I certainly hope so.”

When the Regent looked at him, something fluttered through her gaze before she could lock it down.

Desire. Rage. Longing.

She blinked, turning her expression to stone once again.

“If she isn’t, it won’t just be her blood in the sand.”

Her gaze slid toward me again.

“Tell me, little witch. How did someone like you end up on my strongest team? Are you capable of winning these Games? Or is your presence going to get them all killed?”

The mark on my chest burned. Every instinct screamed to fight back, but Slate’s warning look held me still.

I didn’t dare respond. Instead, I bowed my head, bending at the waist. Let him deal with her.

“I’ll push her harder,” Slate said.

“See that you do, or I will.”

She turned, her Sentinels falling into step behind her.

“You have two weeks, Warden. If she doesn’t prove herself worthy in time, I trust you know what must be done.” She paused at the bottom step and turned her head slightly so I could just see the profile of her face. “There are so many others who would kill to take her place.”

When she disappeared through the corridor, the silence she left behind was suffocating.

Slate exhaled, low and unsteady, his anger palpable.

I didn’t move. I couldn’t. The most powerful person in the Amethyst Shard had just threatened my life.

Calli was the first to move. She stepped in front of me like she could block the Regent’s order with her body.

“We’ll make sure you’re ready,” she whispered. “She doesn’t get to erase you.”

Elara and Orion moved to stand next to me, not saying a word.

Brim didn’t move, but I saw it in his eyes too. Not solidarity, exactly.

Calculation.

If I failed, they all paid, and he understood exactly what that meant.

When Slate finally looked at me, the distance separating us felt infinite. His gaze held the quiet precision of a man rebuilding his walls, brick by brick.

Whatever door I’d managed to open inside him last night, he was closing it now.

But I could still feel it there, burning between us.

And whatever it was, it threatened to destroy us all.