If Caspian was the blade and Malphas was the landslide, Vane was the gravity that pulled the world into alignment.
After the primal, bone-deep exhaustion of the training pits with Malphas, Nyx had spent two days in a state of suspended animation. Her body felt like it had been tempered in a kiln—aching, hypersensitive, and vibrating with an energy that made the very air around her feel thick. She was no longer the girl who had crept through the halls of the Silver-Crest in soft silk. She was hardened, taut, and hungry.
She had shared sharp, dangerous kisses with Caspian in the library and felt the scorching, reckless intensity of Malphas in the pits, but she had stopped them there. A boundary remained, a silent agreement she hadn't yet been able to name, until tonight.
The training with
