The parchment feels heavier than it should as I pick it up and sit in the chair. I place it beside another letter, the one my parents sent, the one Ryjax delivered days ago, and suddenly, it’s as if I can feel his hands on me again, his lips gliding over my shoulder, the pressure of him against my forehead.
I shake my head before tucking both letters into the drawer. Unable to focus enough to give them the attention they deserve.
My parents’ letter had been filled with nothing but excitement, joy, and gratitude to the prince. They’re counting the days until we’ll be reunited again, and there was a time not long ago when I had been doing the same.
But now, as the trial gets closer, so too does the day I’ll leave this room, this palace—and the man who seems to occupy my every thought.
A groan escapes me, long and frustrated because at this point, I don’t think my thoughts are due to the orilander powder, and I don’t know what it is I’m doing.
He is the prince.
I used to remind myself of that because he represents everything I hate, everything I loathe. His family created the trials. His family marked me for death. But now? Now, I say it to remind myself that he is everything I want—and the one thing I can never have.He is the prince.And I cannot have him.
No matter how much I may want him.
And I do.
The admission feels like a spark catching fire in my chest, sudden and all-consuming. I want him more than I’ve allowed myself to realize. But I think…I think…I’ve wanted him for a while now.
Maybe since he showed me the gardens.
Maybe even before that.
I want to feel his breath on my skin. I want to feel his fingers tightening around my waist. But it’s more than that. I want to know what hetasteslike.
No.
No.
I cannot be having these thoughts.
He is theprince.
Needing a distraction, I pull out Char’s letter again.
Char.
He is someone Icanhave. Char is realistic. Char is strong and steady, and he’ll keep me safe. He’ll always keep me safe.
But…do I really need someone to protect me?
I glance down at my hands. Fire flickers to life in my palms, glowing bright and warm. The ease with which I can now summon it makes me grin. The ache that once followed is barely a whisper in my limbs.
Nyxa chuckles softly in my mind.“You are your own protector, Fire Wielder.”
And as the flames dance between my fingers, I know that she’s right.
Chapter 25
Serafina
“Tell me more about Nyxa,” Ryjax says, leaning against the doorframe like he has been all morning.
I don’t know why, but he won’t come into the room. Instead, he lingers there, his posture deceptively casual though his every movement, or lack thereof, hints at a storm simmering just beneath the surface.
Something’s wrong, terribly wrong, inarguablywrong. I can see it in his eyes, his face, his whole damn body.
But I’ve yet to ask him, choosing to answer his questions instead.
