magic

Kane had read the stories. Golden princesses did not seek out dark mages.

She was the heroine in the fairytales.

He stared down at his pale hands and black robes.

He was an Erembour. He knew exactly who he was in the stories, and he had the scars to prove it.

Aurora sat in the sunshine on the edge of the shade cast by the tree and watched the other children swim as she chatted with Kane.

“Why are you here? Go swim,” Kane said.

“Because you are. I thought you would like company.”

Kane narrowed his eyes at her. This was a trick or worse.

Francis Fullbright waded into the water with the rest of the children, but Aurora paused and turned to Kane.

“You’re not swimming. Do you know how? I’ll teach you if you don’t.”

He stiffened. “Of course I know how.”

“Then why are you here by yourself?”

“Because I choose the shadows.”

Kane could admire her beauty and brilliance, but from afar, lest his darkness dim her light.

He stared, transfixed.

She was all smiles, kindness, and laughter.

He wanted to reach out, to touch her, to prove she was real. He so wanted her to be real.

And he hated himself all the more for it.

She smiled, and Kane’s breath caught.

Beside her was the golden-haired boy from the stories.

Cole Aldarius swam to shore and introduced the newcomers.

Aurora and Francis from House Fullbright.

Of course.

They were light mages.

Laughter echoed across the lake, and Kane said nothing as he guarded Prince William from the shore.

The other children suddenly pointed and waved.

Kane turned, and his jaw dropped.

There, walking toward him, was the princess from the stories.