“I know, but then I’d have to listen to you complain for the next week about you hurting your feet on rocks and then blaming me. So I think I’ll just skip that fun and carry you,” he says.
I groan and cross my arms like a child throwing a tantrum. The idea of wrapping my arms around his neck and being close to him feels overwhelming, especially now that I’m thinking clearly.
“Gods, Raea,” he groans. “Just say thank you and move on.”
The door slides open as we approach, and he steps out into the dark night. It’s freezing out here, and I find myself leaning just a little more into him. He’s so warm and comforting. It's difficult not to wrap myself around him.
“Thank you,” I mutter.
“See? Was it that hard?” he teases as we cross over the bridge back to our side of campus. The boards clack beneath his steady feet. Feeling a bit guilty that he’s carrying dead weight right now, I relent and wrap my arms around his neck.
“Painful,” I reply, relaxing a bit into him.
I can’t help but notice that his arms aren’t trembling under my weight—they feel steady and strong like I weigh nothing to him. Beneath his dress shirt, I can feel how broad and strong he really is. Thank the gods it’s dark outside because my cheeks flush.
“I’m sorry for keeping you up,” I say quietly. He just shakes his head, looking down at me.
“Anytime, Princess,” he replies.
Something passes between us, and I’m not ready for it, so I look away, laying my head on his shoulder. We continue in silence, and when we return to Taeolyn, even though I’m safe to walk now, he insists on carrying me all the way up to the fifth floor, only setting me down when we reach my door.
“Good night,” I whisper, stepping back until my back is pressed against my door. He follows, bringing our bodies flush again, and he tilts my chin up so that I’m forced to meet his gaze.
“Sleep well, Soraea.” The way he says my name feels like a caress, lighting up my nerve endings.
I realize he wants to say more, but he holds my gaze for a heartbeat, and then he’s gone, already disappearing down the hall to his room.
Today, we’ve been excused from our usual classes for our Divisions test, and I can barely contain my excitement. After returning from the Center last night, I crawled back into bed, and the moment my head hit the pillow, I fell into a deep sleep. I suspect that the exhaustion was a result of all the energy I poured into coping with the pain. I’m still unsure about what exactly Anders said to the healers thatprompted them to come to my aid, but I am deeply grateful he arrived when he did.
As I settle into my seat for the briefing, Professor Brendn stands at the front of the room, leaning against his table and looking over the sea of excited students. “You’ll be flying with your assigned seniors for this trip. You’ll fly down, land on the launch pad, and two of you may exit the transport to retrieve a token. After completing the entire course, you’ll fly back here. The first transport to finish the course wins. Any questions?”
Kami, a junior from Staxver in Ateria, shoots her hand up.
“Yes, Lady Kamryn?” Professor Brendn addresses her, using her full name. Kami gives him an exasperated look, eyes narrowed slightly, before she continues.
“What happens if we encounter civilians?”
Professor Brendn’s expression turns serious. “You know the rules, and so do the towers. Energy shields will activate the moment you land. Hoods up, use your Colony names. The towers will recognize the transports as flight school transports from an academy on Dionek. Only upper officials are privy to your real identities. Ensure that whoever is on comms reports any suspicious activity, and don’t forget to activate the live feed before takeoff. Now, you all have your trackers, yes?” he asks, scanning the room. Our Colony names are considered our alternate identities meant to keep us safe and hopefully unrecognized.
A low murmur of conversation spreads like wildfire through the classroom as we each pull out the jewelry trackers we’ve been given. While our school trackers are embedded within us, these additional ones are necessary, especially since our school trackers weren’t designed for interplanetary travel. I fidget with the gold band that sits uncomfortably on my pointer finger. It feels heavy and clunky, the cool metal smooth against my skin as I unconsciously run my thumb back and forth along its surface.
I was told that last year, the professors accompanied the juniors instead of the seniors during these missions. As I glance back a few rows, I catch sight of Anders, who is also nervously toying with hisown ring. His gaze remains on his hand, but I can’t help but notice the way his mouth curls into a smirk, a silent acknowledgment that he knows I’m watching him. It’s a thing we apparently do now—dance around our true feelings and the truth of our magic, but hey, who am I to change?
I wish Anders were our assigned senior; I’d definitely feel safer if he were. The tug I feel to always be around him is only getting stronger every day, and when I touch him, gods, it’s the only time I feel relief from the growing charge in the air. Even the hum of Baedyn and the other planets feels stronger.
“For those of you who have checked out your weapons, please keep them in their holsters unless absolutely necessary. Transport teams, you may exit to the launch pads to begin your takeoff inspections. When your assigned senior arrives, you may load up. Your time begins when you radio in for takeoff.”
Students stand, and excitement fills the air as we shuffle to the aisles and down the steps. All fliers take this astral test in their junior year, which will be combined with our final grade.
Trysten catches up with Ciara, Tate, and me as we make our way to our transport. The shiny onyx body of the space transport glimmers in the early morning sun. I can’t believe I get to fly around the system today.
I’m not paying attention when I feel a surge of energy coursing through my entire body. It’s so powerful that I let out a sharp gasp as my knees threaten to buckle beneath me. I feel like a live wire sparking to life. Irritation surges through me. He should know better than to touch me when I’m not paying attention.
“Don’t do that,” I hiss, keeping my voice low enough for his ears only. “Others will see.”
“Gods, calm down,” he responds, releasing his hold on me. Even through the fabric that separates us, I can feel the lingering remnants of energy, dampened, but still strong enough to send a jolt of excitement shooting through me. “I was going to warn you about Naelik. The volcanoes are active today. And when you get to Klea, steer clear of the big guy with the scar on his face. He will recognize you, andlet’s just say he keeps questionable company. Send Tate instead and tell him not to look him in the eye.”
I catch a flicker of something akin to fear in his eyes, which displaces my irritation, replacing it with a warm, tingly sensation. I hesitate, my instincts battling between maintaining my composure and reaching out for him. Touching him wins out as I wrap my hands around his biceps. As he steps closer, I feel a rush of warmth radiating from him as his hand briefly brushes my hip, as though he was considering holding me and thought better of it. A small smile pulls at my lips, and I find myself swaying slightly, leaning into him as the world around us blurs.
