Page 73 of A Kiss of Flame
Levian hesitated. She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to have to lean on Merlin for anything ever again. But Levian had no choice and no time to waste—only mere hours were left. She was too terrified to think straight, so she sank onto a stool, the weight of her fear pushing her down. She began to tell him all that had happened with Vane.
When she finished, Merlin sneered. "Vane is a fool. He always was."
He stood and began pacing before the small fire burning in his cell. Levian's eyes followed him, her rage barely contained. "Why did you send me there?” she snarled.
Merlin shook his head, not stopping his pacing. "I suspected Vane might be involved with the thieves you were after. I thought you would watch him, gather information, perhaps steal the ring if the opportunity presented itself—not recklessly barge in and get yourself captured and nearly killed,” he growled with admonishment. "I told you not to underestimate him."
Levian recoiled as if struck, shooting up from her stool. It clattered to the ground like a crack of thunder in the silence. "You could have told me!" she hissed, her voice raw. "You could have told me everything instead of playing your games. All you do is move us like pieces on your board! And now they have Barith, and—" Her voice caught, grief welling up and choking her words.
Merlin stopped pacing, his stern expression softening at her raw vulnerability. “Hugh and Artie have long known me," he told her. "We forged an agreement that they would never have dealings with you of any kind. When they sent you to me, I knew Hugh was up to something. The pixie lied to you because he wanted you to come here to see me. He’s clever and has been trying to find ways to contact me for years. You’re just his latest attempt.”
Levian glowered at him. None of this mattered. It wouldn't help her get Barith back. "I don't care," she spat. "Tell me how to find Vane."
"No,” he replied coldly, shaking his head. “You will only get yourself killed."
Without warning, she stepped forward and slapped Merlin across the face. The magicks of The Prison responded instantly, pressing upon her like an immense weight. Levian gasped as the pressure forced her back until she slid away from her father, and the unseen force relented. Merlin rubbed his reddened cheek, his cold eyes locked on hers.
"Tell me," she demanded once more, her voice trembling. Merlin said nothing. "I will not let Barith die!”
Merlin grimaced, his expression conflicted. He slid off his ragged robe and threw it over his chair, pushing the sleeves of his worn shirt past his elbows, revealing the intricate Elder Rune tattoos and carvings etched across his skin.
"I am a man of science," he began, his voice almost gentle. "I began to study the Dökk because I hated the idea that all of their knowledge, all their power, would be lost to history simply because others deemed it dangerous." He gestured to the runes along the middle of his forearm, tracing the carvings. "The shadow is not inherently evil but a primal power unlike any other. To wield it, you must conquer it. Vane is a descendant of the Dökk," Merlin explained. "His father's fae line carries their blood."
Levian felt a chill run through her, a shudder rippling down her spine. Not all the Dökk had been killed after The Fall. A few were said to have been taken prisoner by some of the fae kingdoms and cursed so they could never bear children. Levian had heard the rumors that some fae lines were touched by Dökk blood. She had dismissed them as gossip. Apparently, they’d borne some truth.
"You were right last year about Nestra, the Zephyr High Priestess," Merlin continued. "She had help wielding Dökk magick. Vane is clever enough but no mastermind. His blood is too diluted to wield much power. I never would have sent you to him if I thought otherwise. Whoever his master is, they are the true threat, and you are better off staying far away."
Levian shook her head, determination hardening her gaze. "Why did Vane take the ring from you when neither of you can use it?”
Merlin's gaze darkened, his lips pressing into a thin line. "You took it to Trislana," he guessed.
"I did," she snapped back, her frustration mounting.
He sighed, a touch of relief in his expression. "I knew you would."
Levian's fury flared again, her fists clenching. He could read her so easily, predict her every move. She felt like a puppet, every string pulled by him. "Why did Vane send me to you?" she demanded.
Merlin glanced at the stack of books she'd knocked over, then grunted softly. "To taunt me," he replied angrily. "I was studying the dryad ring, hoping to forge something like it to wield the shadow. I promised Vane a ring of his own if I succeeded, and he helped me with my research. But I refused to pay it when I discovered what it would cost—power and blood. Vane thought me weak and stole the dryad ring out of spite.”
He grumbled a dark curse. "Vane could have taken you instead of the dragon,” Merlin said, almost to himself. “He wanted to torture you and, through you, me. If I tell you where to find him, Vane will kill both of you. If I don't tell you, you will hate me forever for letting him kill the creature you love."
Hearing him refer to Barith as her love twisted Levian's stomach. His torment was evident, but she didn't care. All that mattered was saving Barith. "Tell me where to find him," she pleaded, her voice cracking. "Please."
Merlin's face tensed, his fists clenching at his sides. "You are better than me, Levian," he said, his voice heavy. "In every way. I shouldn't have sent you to Vane. You survived, and I won't send you to your death now, even if the result is you hating me more than you already do.”
Levian felt her hope crumble. She wouldn't find Barith in time without Merlin's help. "What do you want?" she asked, desperation lacing her words. "Name it, and I will get it."
Her father stilled, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her. Levian knew he always had a price. She saw the gears turning in his mind, calculating. Merlin searched her gaze.
“Do you love him enough to die for him?” he asked coldly.
“Yes,” she replied without hesitation.
“Is he worthy of such devotion?”
“Yes.”
“Would he do the same for you?”