Veronyka blew out her cheeks, putting the cup on the side table and rubbing her suddenly clammy hands against her thighs. “Have you ever heard of shadow magic?”
His eyes flickered, and he nodded. “Morra has it, I think.”
A small wave of relief swept through Veronyka. This wasn’t going to be easy, but at least he wasn’t among the people who thought it some mythical ability, or worse, a superstitious curse. She didn’t have to convince him it existed, at least.
She only had to convince him to forgive her for lying about it—lying to him. Again.
“Yes, she does,” Veronyka said, sitting forward on her chair. She swallowed thickly. “And so do I.”
He continued to stare at her, his face surprisingly opaque. But just as Morra had promised, his mind reached out of its own accord, seeking her—seeking a foreign presence within its borders. She clenched her jaw and blocked him, but the surge of connection had been bright and powerful as a spark from a flint stone.
She could sense his wariness, his desire to draw himself in, even as his mind did the exact opposite.
“That’s how I was able to trick Morra when I first arrived. How I convinced her I was Nyk, not Veronyka. Nobody knows I have it except for her,” she continued, trying to read his expression again and failing. “And now you. And Val. She has it as well.”
He reacted to that news, a jump of his brows before they furrowed and his attention turned inward.
“That’s why you always felt strange around her,” Veronyka continued. “She was meddling in your mind.”
“She was?” he asked, voice flat. “How do you know that? Were you in there as well?”
“No, of course not! I mean, not on purpose…”
A spasm of anger or hurt flickered across his features, there and then gone, but she had seen it. She had felt it. And there was still more she had to own up to.
“I know she was in there because she was always in my mind too. She and I… we have a connection. A permanent one. It’s sort of like a bond, I think, but without all the good stuff like openness and trust. I never purposely went into your mind—I swear. It just started happening sometimes. The thing is, I have to guard against it constantly, and even then, sometimes it’s not enough.”
Emotion was rising in Veronyka’s throat, constricting her airways. He was pulling away from her. She could feel it through their connection. But she had to plow on, had to tell him everything if she ever had any hope of him trusting her again. She spoke faster, determined to get it all out, no matter how much it hurt to have him look at her the way he was right now… like he was looking at a stranger.
“It’s just like with animal magic. It can get away from you sometimes. And Val, she never taught me anything—she never wanted me to be able to wield it against her.”
“Against her?” he repeated.
“She’s… she’s not what she seems.”
“And neither are you.”
Veronyka looked down. The words stung, causing tears to prick at the back of her eyes.
“Why are you telling me now?” he asked, arms crossing over his chest. “Is that why I blacked out today? Were you using it against me, trying to… I don’t know, control me somehow?”
“No, Tristan!” she said, gaping at him, her heart breaking at the idea that he could think so little of her. Didn’t he know who she was at all? Hadn’t she been the one to convince him that using magic to command was wrong and ineffectual? “I would never, ever use it that way. Not on you, not on anyone.”
He seemed to realize that he’d hurt her, opening his mouth, only to clamp it shut and stare around the room, as if searching for words.
“All that’s ever happened between us is accidental slipups. Like that night before the attack on the Eyrie when I passed out in front of the breeding enclosure. When one of us is running high emotionally, it sort of sucks me in—makes the magic harder to control. There’s also the fact that we’re so… familiar with each other. It creates a link, like the one I have with Val.”
“You and I are linked?” he asked faintly. “What does that mean? Is that permanent? Is it—”
He sounded horrified to be tied to her in such a way, making her fracturing heart sink into her stomach.
“I don’t know, Tristan. All I know is that I have a link to you and a link to Val. I’ve been blocking her out for weeks, blocking my shadow magic entirely….” She stopped. “I was trying to, anyway. But I screwed up and let her in, and I couldn’t get her out again,” Veronyka said, panic rising inside her. “Then suddenly you and I touched—that strengthens a connection—and the next thing I knew… I almost fainted too. I managed to put up walls and protect myself, but I forgot mine wasn’t the only mind in danger—that Val has access to you through me. I forgot to protect us both. I’m sorry.”
Tristan stared at the floor. “First my father, now you. Why doesn’t anybody tell me the truth?” he said, lurching to his feet. He was a bit unsteady, but he was able to use the wall for support.
Veronyka’s insides turned to ice at his words. He thought she was the same as his father? Nothing he’d said or done had ever made her feel so cold.
“I didn’t tell you,” she began, after several weighted moments. Her voice quivered slightly, so she cleared it before continuing. “I didn’t tell you because Morra warned me against it.”
He turned to look at her then, as if surprised, though he made no comment.
“I was struggling—trying to block it, but it wasn’t working. I asked her for advice, and she told me that it was too dangerous to tell you.”
“And when was this?”
Veronyka looked down. “A little over a week ago, I guess. The day after our last time sparring.”
“Veronyka, I’ve known you for months. You had all that time before you talked to Morra to tell me. How could you keep this from me for so long? After everything we’ve been through…”
“It’s because of everything that happened, everything with my sister…. I was afraid to lose you. I couldn’t stand to lose anyone else.”
Tristan was shaking his head, though Veronyka didn’t know if he was denying her words or trying to cast the memory of them aside. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to trust you. Every few weeks, some new secret comes out. I feel like I don’t even know you.”
Veronyka let out a snort of mirthless laughter as she got to her feet. “You know what, Tristan? You’re not the only one.”
He frowned, taking a slight step back, startled by her bright, angry tone. “What are you talking about?”
“What am I talking about? Well, let me see.” She dug into her trouser pocket, where she’d stuffed the birth certificate. Her birth certificate. “You wanted to know what was in the lockbox? Well, here it is,” she said, throwing it at him.
Tristan crouched down to pick it up, eyes on her as he carefully unfolded the paper. He finally looked down to read it, and only when his gaze dropped did she find the courage to speak again. “Looks like I’m not who I thought I was either. And you know what else? My sister, Val? She’s not my sister at all. She’s my aunt.”