My fingertips don’t burn.
“So strange,” I whisper out to myself.
The ripped bandage is still wrapped around my palm, my skin slowly healing from a cream that one of the healers gave me before bed. They aren’t menders. Only Kaine and Florian are. But the healers here in the Pyre help the wounds heal with their medicine.
They keep the chosen eight strong and alive to keep fighting the Wailing Mother. To keephunting her.
A see-through bluish cream still sticks against my cheekbone from the Skydance’s dagger. I begin to wonder if my birthmarks are even noticeable anymore.
I sigh as a loud knock beats against the door, and I shove the note under my pillow, unsure if I need to keep it a secret or not.
I braid my hair swiftly, ash still tangled within the strands and I know I need a damn shower soon. My fingers grip the warm, onyx nob, twisting it so fast with the hopes of someone taking me to see Kaine.
The wooden door flies open and there stands a man I have never seen before. He must be one of the chosen eight.
“Serene,” he states, but his gaze feels as if he is staring through me, not at me.
His silver eyes are so bright against his warm skin, but the healed claw marks slashed across his eyes make my insides twist. Those wounds scream he is a warrior, and a deadly one. I feel it just in his presence. His silver hair is braided up top, reminding me just how Theon would braid his before training. They twist perfectly in a few rows against the top of his head, revealing his pointed ears. Some braids still remain in his tousled waves that flow to his mid-back.
Around ten daggers are strapped against his broad chest, on a leather strap that stands out against the dragon scale armor of his suit. A golden pin is fastened against his chest—two dragons swirling in a circle with what looks like an infinity symbol in the middle with flames. Or I suppose, a sideways eight.
“Are you there?” His brows deepen. “Are you ready?”
His arm tosses out to the side, gesturing for me to go as he doesn’t blink.
I lean over, staring at his eyes that feel almost white. He doesn’t move. No reaction to my body or hand waving in front of his face.
He scuffs, his lips pulling into a smirk. “No, I can’t see. But I can hear your hand pushing air in front of my face.”
“I’m so sorry.” I pull away swiftly and embarrassingly. My fingers dig into my forehead. “I didn’t know.”
He shrugs. “Nothing to be sorry for, be sorry to the dragon I killed after it slashed my face. Lost my eyesight, but killed a dragon.” He clears his throat. “We need to go.”
My jaw clenches with the thought of how painful that must have been.
“Are we going to see Kaine?” I step forward into the hallway. The staircase is towards my left, and I know I am on the third floor, with five more floors above me. I’m curious to know if Florian and Theon stayed here overnight, as well.
“No.”
“I need to see him!” My voice rises, and I feel the rage burning in my throat as I yell.
“He isn’t awake yet.” He starts to walk, his knee-high raven boots beating against the floor before making it to the cobblestone staircase. “I need to understand what these stones are.”
“They arenothing,” I hiss, almost annoyed that Kaine hasn’t woken. “I just need them out.”
His silver hair sways as he bounces along the stairs. “I feel that might be impossible.”
“Well, you better make it possible.”
I continue to walk but he halts, tilting his head to the side.
“Is this how you talk to everyone?” His voice deepens. “I’d watch your tongue around here, the other chosen will not put up with this and you are lucky I obey the Queen. The others don't, and they are here to fight for themselves,not her.”
I bite my bottom lip, holding in my words as my hand grips tightly around the handrail.
“Oh, now she is quiet,” he scuffs. “Maybe you’re not as foolish as the Queen thinks you are.”
“I'm certain the Queen has plenty of opinions about me,” I say, rolling my eyes as I trail after him. “And I'm sure none of them are good.”
