I stared at Magnus across the hotel's training room. The morning light streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the reinforced floor that had weathered three weeks of our brutal training sessions.
"What are you thinking about?" I asked, noticing his unusually contemplative expression.
Magnus's gaze shifted to me, studying me with those piercing eyes that seemed to see through everything.
"I was thinking about my past," he said finally. "And how it shaped me into who I am today."
I remained silent, waiting. Magnus rarely spoke about himself, and I didn't want to break whatever spell had prompted this sudden openness.
He walked over to one of the benches lining the wall and sat down, gesturing for me to join him. "I was born the third son of the Draykar family—a house of moderate power situated between the Northern and Eastern continents."
