Page 40 of The Devil's Trials

I open my mouth, but whatever I was going to say vanishes. I regret wanting to see him, and I sure as hell resent missing him. I lick the dryness from my lips, meeting his darkening gaze, and whisper, “Where did you go?”

Xander shakes his head, arching a brow at me before he says, “You’re the one who left.”

“That’s not what I mean.” I bite the inside of my cheek, struggling to continue looking at him. “I don’t know who you are anymore. You…you’re a stranger.”

“Good.” His voice is harder now. Cold. “A stranger to you is exactly what I need to be.”

Pulling free of his grasp, I shoot back, “To be king?”

Xander hesitates before nodding.

This emotional back and forth is giving me whiplash. It’s clear in his tone and the expressions he’s failing to hide that I’m not the only one struggling. I just want it to end. If distancing himself from the parts I fellin love with is what he needs to do in order to succeed in the trials, fine. But I can’t be part of it.

“Fine,” I say in a resigned tone, swallowing past the lump in my throat. I close my eyes, focusing on breathing steadily, willing myself to wake up. I doubt it’ll work, but I have to try.

There’s a soft brush of knuckles against my cheek before I’m overcome by the sensation of the floor disappearing from under me. Instead of fear flooding through me, I’m filled with relief, and I fall willingly.

Waking with a start, I sit up in bed, looking around my bedroom. Grounding myself. My heart is still racing, and I reach around blindly until I find the lamp beside my bed, switching it on and grabbing the glass of water on the nightstand, chugging it to soothe the fire in my throat. I set the empty glass down and run my fingers through my hair, taking deep breaths until my pulse returns to a normal rhythm.

I check the time on my phone with a sigh. It’s just after one in the morning. Adjusting my pillow, I curl onto my side and attempt to get comfortable again.

Sleep evades me as I turn over the dreamscape conversation with Xander. I’m left feeling betrayed all over again, but knowing what he gave up so I would live has also planted a seed of guilt in my chest.

I would’ve felt better if he’d been angry and blamed me. His blatant indifference to the outcome of killing Lucia—his newfound motivation to pass the ascension trials and take the throne—makes me regret putting my faith in him on a whole other level.

I was blinded by my feelings for him. They tricked my gut into believing he could be trusted.

And I let it happen.

I can’t trust Xander.

I can’t even trust myself.

So where does that leave me?

After a restless night, I struggle to get out of bed and get ready in time to meet Noah in the parking garage. Of course, there’s also the matter of that kiss we shared in the apartment gym two days ago. I haven’t seen or spoken to him since, and I have no idea how to broach the subject. Or if I even should.

“Are you ready to tackle a group class today?”

So, I guess we’re not going to talk about it.

“Sure,” I say automatically despite the way my stomach dips and my pulse ticks faster. I’d much rather have another private class with Noah but I can’t keep putting this off. I need to train with other novices, and the sooner I start the easier it’ll be.

“What’s with you this morning?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar.”

I sigh. “I didn’t sleep well, that’s all.”

“Oh? Is there something you want to talk about?”

“Not with you,” I say without missing a beat.

He sucks air through his teeth. “Ouch, Cam. You wound me so deeply.”

Heat floods my face. “No, that isn’t—I only meant—”

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