“Parancsok Olet, I hope that you aren’t only sorry because of who my mate is. Females do not deserve the treatment that had been afforded us for the past few centuries,” I said, each word measured and brimming with challenge.

Rapp’s fingers tightened over the table as he waited to see which way the exchange would fall. Rokath kept his gaze firmly on me.

Olet blew out a long breath. “I apologize for that as well, Szélhámos. You are absolutely correct in that assessment. While the Halálhívó’s plan shocked me at first, the wisdom in it is sound. My sisters were both married off young, and I’ve hardly seen them since I joined the army. Unfortunately, my perspective had been limited by that. I hope to gain new insight upon the arrival of our new recruits.”

My eyebrows shot up my forehead, but I quickly smoothed my expression and offered him a soft, sincere smile. “Thank you, Parancsok Olet. All is forgiven between us.”

The tension bled from his shoulders. “I am glad to hear it.”

A moment later, four steaming trays emerged from the kitchens, the servers placing them before us with practiced efficiency.

“Olet came around quickly after I told him of our plans last night. I wasn’t expecting him to apologize to you though. You handled yourself well,” Rokath said as water, juice, and steaming tea followed the food.

I sipped from the juice as I replied. “Thank you.”

“After we’re finished eating, I’ll give you a tour,” Rokath told me aloud a moment later.

I cocked my head to the side as I studied him. “We skip the tour and go straight to training.”

“It seems I might have empowered you a little too much, little imposter. Do not forget I am in charge here,” Rokath spoke into my mind.

My grin was fiery and saccharine. “For now.”

“Do you have plans to overthrow my rule?” he asked, amusement lifting his tone.

“Depends on how quickly you teach me to thoroughly stab someone to death,” I quipped, picking up a fork and shoving them forcefully into my eggs for good measure.

A laugh echoed down our bond, but he kept his expression neutral. “Fine, we’ll go to the training yard. Rapp can observe so he feels like he’s still important.”

Rapp grumbled. “If we weren’t in front of all these soldiers–”

“You’d have some choice words for him,” I teased.

“Exactly,” Rapp replied, popping a flaky piece of pastry into his mouth.

I ate quickly, finishing—thankfully—before the gong sounded. Draining the last of my water, I rose, waiting to see if Rapp needed my help. He shot me an annoyed look. I merely pressed my lips together to keep from grinning.

Olet strode toward the soldiers’ tables and pulled out a parchment, reading off the day’s assignments. Meanwhile, Rapp, Rokath, and I worked our way through the commons and out into the hall.

Excitement thrummed in my veins, our slow progress only serving to heighten the emotion. While I’d trained prior to the rescue mission, it was paltry compared to what I wanted to learn. Today, I was finally going to unlock the mysteries of my magic. Today, I was going to discover parts of myself I’d kept hidden for far too long.

Today, I was taking the first steps into becoming the Szélhámos.

The training area on the east side of the academy was already a hub of excitement by the time we reached it. Metal clashed against metal, mingling with the shouts of males sparring in hand to hand combat. The yard was massive, with enough space for training with weapons or magic, and a place for onlookers to observe the pairs fighting. Above, covered walkways allowed glimpses from passersby, while a grandstand sat off to one side, where sweat-soaked males reclined.

On the bottom most row, Olet sat, shouting at a pair utterly failing to execute some complex move with long staffs. More officers were off to another side, instructing what looked to be a group of Destructors facing off with an especially large tree trunk.

Most were too focused on their tasks to notice Rokath, Rapp, and I clinging to the periphery. “We’ll search for a quieter space to practice so you can focus,” he spoke into my mind.

Rapp settled next to Olet, barking instructions to another group. Rokath and I continued on, finding the space behind the stands blissfully empty. While the yells and sounds of fighting were still audible, it was low enough that it was mere background noise.

Off to one side, spare weapons and bales of hay waited, and Rokath dragged one forward, then settled himself on it. “Let’s start with your shadow power. Show me how much you can conjure.”

Nodding, I closed my eyes, digging into my magic well. It opened readily with so much use over the past few months. The smoky swirls spilled out of my palms as I exhaled. I delved deeper, immersing myself in the way they felt both in my chest and against my skin. All around me, magic darkened into existence. Yet, I hadn’t glimpsed the depths of my limits. So I continued to drink until the bottom of an empty glass appeared.

I halted there, not wanting to overextend myself, and opened my eyes.

A gasp fled my lips as I realized just how much I’d filled the area around us with wispy strands of black. A sea of them curled around Rokath’s feet, and he drank me in like I was his salvation after a week in the desert. The sight healed another shred of my tattered heart. There was no question of his adoration of me, not when he looked at me like that.

Almost instinctively, I raised a hand, the tip of my finger dragging through the air to direct my magic up his body. He didn’t move, merely kept watching me, as I wrapped the tendrils around his torso and his arms. When his black clothing had nearly been replaced by my power, I curled my fingers into my palm and yanked.

Obsidian ropes forced Rokath to his feet, to which he responded with a wicked grin. “You really are asking for it today, aren’t you, little imposter?”

“Maybe,” I replied, my own lips curving into a mischievous smile. Rokath had used his powers with me multiple times, and I’d always been impressed by the mastery he possessed.

I wanted that.

Training with him prior to the rescue mission had shown me I’d barely scratched the surface of what I could do with my burgundy eyes.

“Release it so you still have some magic left to test your secondary power,” he murmured. When I loosened my grip on him, he reached out, running his fingers through the onyx ink as it retreated inside me. The awe with which he viewed my power made my low belly heat.

When it had all vanished, he sat back on the bale of hay. The way he studied me made me want to squirm, but I held still as I waited for him to speak. His mind was whirling far too quickly for me to chase his thoughts. “Have you only ever attempted to create someone else’s body? Never their clothing?”

I shook my head. “Only them. When I would sneak out of Vagach’s house, I’d steal his clothes and make a new form to fit.”

A muscle feathered in Rokath’s jaw at the mention of my deceased abusive husband.

Did I love his violence because he would have protected me from that situation had he known?

Rokath’s fierce claim, his savage protection, his brutal love…the way I savored all of it should have made me feel ashamed. Yet he’d only encouraged that side of me every time it emerged. Trauma had brought out jagged shards of ebony in both of us, and as we revealed them to one another, they only served to twist our bond tighter.

Rokath ripped my focus back to him with a new command. “Try it now.”

“To become someone else with their clothes on?” I questioned, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind my pointed ear.

“Aye,” he replied, shifting his weight on the bale.