6. Amber

I shouldn't say it.I know I shouldn't.

"Can I come up with you?" I ask softly, the words coming out anyway.

"No." He glares at me and reaches forward, pressing the button to keep the doors open. "Get out. Now."

The command is cold and final, his face a mask of stone.

An instinctive part of me—the part that warns prey to run from a predator before they pounce—leads me out of the elevator and into the hall. But I turn back, unwilling to walk away just yet.

He keeps the doors open.

Maybe all isn't lost.

"Take a break from training tomorrow," he says. "You've been through enough tonight."

Surprise jolts through me, freezing me in place. I've never been told to skip training. It's an unspoken rule that no matter what we face, the training continues. It keeps us sharp. Keeps us strong. Keeps us alive.

Damien breaking that rule somehow scares me more than his cold, soulless detachment ever could.

"No," I say, even though the exhaustion from everything that happened tonight is too strong to ignore. "I'm perfectly able to train tomorrow."

"That's an order, Amber," he says. "Not a suggestion."

The subtext in his words is clear.

It's an order from my king. Not my boyfriend, my fiancé, or… whatever he is.

"You can't stop me from training," I say, angry now, challenging him.

"Actually," he says with an annoyingly smug smirk. "I can."

Really?

He can't be serious.

But I have a sinking feeling he is.

"What are you going to do?" I step forward, not backing down. "Lock me in my room?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Is that a suggestion?"

"No." I tilt my head and reach for my magic, clenching my fists when I'm barely able to find a spark.

If I can't burn him with sunlight, I can always punch him instead.

"Locking me in my room didn't go well for you the first—and final—time you tried," I remind him.

"As if I'd ever forget the night you almost ruined my elevator," he replies. "And, as I'm sure you also recall, I never locked you in. I simply placed a guard outside your door to keep you safe."

"You weren't expecting that it was your guard you needed to keep safe from me," I say, and he looks me over in what might almost be silent approval.

"No. I wasn't expecting it," he agrees. "But I was hoping for it."

My sun magic finally sparks within me. Not a lot, but it's there.

"Then hopefully you're hoping that I wake up and get myself to training tomorrow," I say. "Because that's exactly what I intend to do."

"You're not setting a foot inside that gym tomorrow," he says, and the air stirs around him, his already mussed up hair moving in the breeze. "You're going to take a day off. Use the time to heal. Not just physically, but here." He taps his temple, then drops his hand back to his side, his eyes like daggers piercing into my soul. "It's time you learned how to use your brain more than your heart."

His words make my heart race faster. It's like it's telling me it won't be quieted, no matter what Damien, Cassandra, or anyone else in this kingdom thinks I should do.

"I don't regret what I did tonight," I say, keeping my gaze level with his.

"And I don't imagine you'd be saying that if you ended up bonded to Lucas or captured by the Shadow Lord," he replies coolly.

The token hums in my pocket at the mention of the Shadow Lord—as if it's offended that Damien said his name.

I don't want to talk about Astrophel. I can't.

So, I change the subject.

"What about you?" I ask. "Are you going to take a day off as well?"

"Leaders don't have that luxury," he says without a second thought.

"Exactly," I say, the word slicing through the air. "Which is why I won't be taking the day off tomorrow, either."

I expect him to fight back. To make a snide remark that I don't have what it takes to be a queen.

Instead, he removes his finger from the doors open button and steps back.

"Real leaders don't just train their bodies." He glances over mine before meeting my eyes again. "They also train their minds."

With those final cold words, the elevator doors close.

His dismissal echoes in my ears, and anger flares inside me, burning away the last of my basically non-existent magic. Not just at his arrogance, but at the part of me that wonders if there's truth in what he said.

With nowhere else to go—and feeling more exhausted than ever—I make my way to my room.

Astrophel's token hums in my pocket like a dark siren's call with every step.

Back in my room, I pull it out of my pocket and take my first good look at it. It's a thick crescent with runes etched on its surface, made of an otherworldly metal that somehow absorbs light and shimmers with power at the same time.

It's a beautiful, terrifying thing. Holding it now, I can almost hear the faint echo of Astrophel's voice, laced with promises and threats woven together like the vines of a twisted forest.

It's so you can come to me at night, I remember what he said to me. Like I do to you.

The thought of seeing him in my dreams again makes my heart race in a way it shouldn't. Because the more I see him, the deeper he'll pull me into whatever game he's playing.

But if I want to learn more about him and what he's planning, isn't the best way to do that by seeing him?

I have no idea. All I know is that I can't let anyone find the token.

I also can't get rid of it.

Which means I have to hide it.

My nightstand drawer seems too obvious. Same with the desk drawer, or underneath the bathroom sink, or anything else of the sort.

Where's a place no one would think to look?

I move across the room to my dresser, rifling through my clothes until I find what I hope is the perfect hiding spot—the pocket of my least favorite pair of jeans. They're worn, faded from years of use, and smushed in the back of a bottom drawer. The token will be safe there. It has to be, given that I can't think of a better place to hide it.

My breath shallows as I close the drawer with a soft click.

Not having the token on me feels cold, like it's sad or upset with me for hiding it away.

But that's silly. It's a token. It doesn't have feelings.

It'll be okay until I figure out what to do with it.

And, more importantly, until I figure out if I want to see Astrophel again—and what I'll say to him if I do.