Wielder's Prize (Preview Only)

CHAPTER 6

One year and four months ago...

"I thought you said he was mad," I snapped, jealousy bubbling up as I saw Rixon at my horse's stall. His back was to me, petting Jarrow. My eyes bulged. Jarrow was letting him. That little weasel! He wasn't getting an apple from me tonight.

Rixon stiffened but said nothing, didn't turn. I would have been offended, except that I expected it. And it was hard to be angry in this moment when I watched the way he caressed Jarrow's face. Jarrow snorted, earning a whisper. I inched closer, desperate to hear the words, but they were too soft.

He fished an apple from of his pocket. Jarrow snatched it up.

"You've found his weakness, I see." I couldn't help myself. Rixon glanced at me, eyes darting over my clothes. My stomach dropped, mouth dry as I realized what he was seeing. I usually wore trousers and a loose tunic when I worked in the stables. Today, everything was dirty because I'd forgotten to wash it after last night. The clothes smelled like the stables, too, and not in a fresh-hay sort of way. Truthfully, I shouldn't have minded.

Rixon turned his gaze back to Jarrow, giving him a final pat before stepping away. "He's a fine stallion."

I gaped at him, mouth hanging open. I snapped it shut, swallowed. "How did you manage to...?"

Rixon shook his head, the gesture subtle, but a dismissal all the same. It was all he offered me. Then he turned on his heel and left. I watched him until he disappeared from the stable.

Finally alone, I rounded on Jarrow.

"How could you, you little traitor?" I hissed. Jarrow merely flicked his ears and snorted. "Fine. But you hardly deserve this," I added, fishing my own apple from my pocket. He sniffed it reluctantly, as if expecting me to snatch it away in my anger. I laughed. "You know I would never deny you, even if you're consorting with the enemy." He snorted again then grabbed the apple from my hand.

Rixon had won him over. Part of me wondered if it was because I'd told him Jarrow was mine. The other part wondered if he'd already won him before our previous encounter, and simply knew that Jarrow wasn't keen on strangers. Perhaps he'd learned it the hard way before winning his trust.

I gritted my teeth, hating that I had to ask these questions. Hating that I couldn't just pry the answers from him. Hating that I even cared enough to want to know.

***

The longer I sat in the bath, the deeper my mortification burrowed into my bones. I wasn't certain what, exactly, had happened, except that I had seen the look in Rixon's eyes, I had felt the sparks in my body. Gods! How would I face him again?!

Taking a deep breath, I slipped beneath the surface, held my breath for as long as I could, then came up sputtering. There was nothing for it. I could delay no longer. Any time now, the other witches and wielders would arrive to meet with us. If it weren't for that, I'd simply skip the evening entirely.

A strained laugh fell from my chest. I was lost, so utterly lost, so deep in over my head. Years of training had prepared me to face demons, but no one had prepared me to face my wielder. Something else scared me even more, because a part of me was growing thrilled at the thought of having him to myself. I wanted to know him. I wanted to understand why he was the way he was. I wanted to crack his granite exterior. I wanted to see what was underneath.

And if you do? said a little voice in the back of my mind. What then? It didn't mean I had to get close to him. I knew what loss felt like. I wasn't ever going to feel it again.