“You have to kill me?” Aida asks.

Riel, the man in front of her stands still as a mountain for a moment at her question. Then he nods.

She’s afraid, she knows she is. Her heart is pounding in spite of herself, pushing her boiling blood through her body, but the anger she used to feel when she looked at him has subsided.

“I must,” he says simply. His eyes are averted, slowly having drifted away from her’s and down to the cold ground.

She looks up at him where she sits bound by chain on the floor. The iron they’ve locked her in keeps her confined, her magic too weak to travel through shadows to escape.

“Why?” She asks, finding her throat dry and gravelly.

She doesn’t know why she asks him. Why does she need the reason? They’re enemies she knows this. But the way his eyes can’t meet hers, the way his own words seem foreign to him, his own thoughts even—she can’t shake the feeling he’s hesitating.

His eyes flick up to look at hers. She can see in the way his face scrunches up in disdain, the way his eyes flicker that he’s playing up his anger. He bares his teeth.

“Because I want to,” he punctuates through gritted teeth. His fists clenched at his sides, his back curling to look down at her as he spits the words.

The muscles of his arms tense, wired cords wrapping around his arms and the ink of painted snakes begin to rise from his skin.

“Because you have to,” she responds. It’s not a question, it’s a statement of truth. It’s a revelation because there’s a twitch at his left cheek, his brows furrowing as if she’s said something to confuse him further.

He shakes his head, frustrated. “Same thing!”

The snakes are taking shape, rising off of his tan arms and molding into something solid. Her heart stutters at the sight, knowing how hard they are to fight off when she’s at full strength.

But she’s been trying to escape for hours, maybe a whole day, she’s unsure. She’s tried calling to her shadows, tried plunging herself in them to no avail, her magic has worn thin. She’s grown exhausted and sleep deprived. The only thing keeping her awake now are her nerves at the sight of Riel and what he promises to do to her.

“It’s not the same. I don’t think you want to, I think you believe you must,” she says, her final attempts to stop him. He shakes his head and closes his eyes as if to shake her words from his ears.

“You’re stronger than me, you would have done so long ago if you really wished to.”

He takes a step back, his palms hovering over his ears. His snakes tend to him, swirling around him confused at his lack of command.

“No,” he says, stepping back and trying to ignore her words. “You’re just saying things!”

She may be, but she knows it’s true. She’s felt his strength many times. He was the only one who had been able to cut her, the only one who had been able to best her. Not even Ashld had his strength, his speed, his attentiveness, his reaction.

Though she was certain some of his magic was gifted to him by fiends, he was a strong mage. She could sense his presence by the feel of his magic—his magic, not whatever the fiends had given him.

“It’s true, Riel,” she says softly. “You’re strong. Stronger than me, stronger than them.”