From the first moment Alaric had laid eyes on Loma, she'd been his miracle.
He was only ten years old, from a family much too noble and strict to encourage their only son's softer side. But Loma had seen through the stoicism he'd worn like armor immediately.
It was his first day at the Core, having been brought there by Ciprian directly after he'd sniffed out Alaric's latent talent and decided to confiscate it for himself. Alaric had just met Rowan, and the easy way Rowan had teased him when Ciprian left them alone to get acquainted had made Alaric frown so hard his face hurt. But secretly, he'd liked it.
Ciprian spotted the secret immediately. After he dismissed Rowan, Ciprian had warned Alaric that affection was weakness. Duty was the only thing that could ever matter to someone who would one day become the True Core.
The words clamped around Alaric's neck like an iron manacle.
Alaric had no desire to become the True Core. He just wanted to do good things.
