Page 23 of Empire of Flame and Thorns

Just like I did with the guy at the gate, I reach out with my magic and push at his sympathy. To my relief, I find a small pink spark there that I can latch on to. I pour my magic into it, making it bigger.

Kevlin heaves a deep sigh. “Fine. But just because you asked nicely.”

Or because I used my magic to manipulate your emotions.Potato, potahto.

“No, the trials are not the same every time,” he says. “Or at least, they haven’t been the last two times. But one thing that has remained the same is the very first one. It’s not actually a trial at all. It’s more of a test. One final hurdle before the real trials start. It’s basically just a demonstration where everyone displays their skills individually.”

Victory shimmers inside me. Fantastic. Then I can use the remaining hours to prepare.

“Oh, I see,” I reply. “And how does?—”

“Check it out!” a male voice booms across the room. “Soulstealer is manipulating Kevlin the Double Loser.”

I immediately cut off my magic, but the damage is already done. Snapping my gaze up, I find the muscular guy who I tried to manipulate at the gate smirking at me and Kevlin from where he sits next to Alistair.

Kevlin, who also turned to look towards him when he spoke, shifts his gaze back to me. Embarrassment, indignation, and anger flash across his face. I open my mouth to apologize, but he cuts me off.

“You manipulated my emotions,” he accuses.

“Uhm…” is all I manage to reply.

Wood scrapes against stone as he shoots out of his seat and lunges towards me. I barely manage to push my own chair back before he grabs me by the collar and yanks me up. His eyes, amix of brown and lavender, are pulsing with fury as he tightens his grip on my collar.

“You slippery little snake,” he growls in my face. “I hope you humiliate yourself at the test today.” He raises his voice. “And I hope that no one here ever lets you get close to them. After all, no one wants a backstabber as an ally.”

My stomach lurches as he uses his grip on my shirt to throw me away from his table. I stumble sideways, slamming into another table a few strides away. Utensils clank and a mug clatters as the force makes the table rattle, tipping over several items.

“Don’t ever approach me again,” he warns.

Nausea rolls through my stomach.

I can feel the eyes of everyone in the room watching me. The distrust radiating from them sears into my skin like iron pokers. I swallow back the lump in my throat as I straighten from the table I crashed into.

A pair of eyes that are a breathtaking mix of pink and purple meet me. They belong to a fae woman with an incredibly beautiful face, which is marred by a scar that cuts along her cheek and across her jaw.

I blink, recognizing the brown-haired woman from yesterday. She’s the one who grew a tree out of the ground so that she could climb over the wall.

My gaze darts down to the toppled mug and the small pool of water that now covers part of the tabletop.

Clearing my throat, I tentatively reach out and straighten the mug. “I’m sorry.”

For a few seconds, she just watches me in silence. Her eyes are completely blank. As is her expression.

Just when I think that she’s going to ignore me, she cracks a smile. “No worries. Everything I have has already been spilled more than once anyway.”

“I, uhm…” Blinking, I trail off, because I have no idea what that’s supposed to mean. But she doesn’t appear angry at least, so I simply clear my throat once more and repeat, “I’m sorry.”

Giving her an apologetic look, I back away and start towards the door.

Oppressive silence fills the dining room.

Everyone is watching me. The look in their eyes varies from disgust to wariness to shrewd calculation.

I swallow and try to walk as naturally as I can through the sea of staring contestants. I feel like I’m going to be sick.

We’re not even one day into the trials, and everyone already despises me.

My chest constricts, making it difficult to breathe. I shouldn’t have used my powers like this. Now everyone hates me. But I needed that information.

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