“How considerate of you.”
“I thought so.”
We stared at each other across the training yard, tension crackling between us like lightning.
Darian straightened, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “Round two, then?” But his gaze flicked toward Varyth, clearly hoping for a reprieve.
I crossed my arms. “And what makes you think I can’t handle whatever this is?”
“Fear makes people reckless. It makes them run when they should stand, fight when they should yield.”
“You assume I fear anything at all.”
“No.” He leaned forward slightly. “I think you fear what you’ll become when you stop running.”
The words hit deeper than they should have. He wasn’t wrong. The thought of letting go completely, of embracing whatever transformation was happening to me, it terrified me more than any monster ever could.
“I suppose you’ll see.” I stepped back with a flick of my wrist, letting the blade sing through the air as I moved toward the weapon rack. “Try to keep up, then.”
Varyth chuckled, the sound deep and resonant, and danger lurked beneath it.
A challenge.
A promise.
9
Library walls had become my refuge. A hush wrapped in the scent of ink and aged parchment, where I could lose myself in histories far older than anything I had known before. Here, among the towering shelves and endless rows of books, I could almost forget how much my world had changed.
Stepping inside, I expected the familiar solitude.
Instead, I found Varyth.
He was sprawled in one of the armchairs near the tall windows, one leg draped lazily over the armrest, the other planted firmly on the ground. In his hands, he held a book, its cover angled away from me, concealing the title.
His eyes flicked up as I entered. A knowing smile curved his lips. “Good afternoon, Isara.”
He said my name like a held breath. Like he had waited for the sound.
I dipped my head in greeting. “Good afternoon.”
Turning away from him, I made my way toward the nearest shelf, sliding the book I’d finished into its place among the others. My fingers lingered on the spine for a moment before Ilet go. Returning a book to its home was grounding, leaving a part of myself within its pages and gaining a new piece in return.
I turned slightly, and glanced back over my shoulder.
He was watching me.
Not even pretending to read. Just… watching. That unreadable expression softening at the edges the moment our eyes met.
“Where are your wings?” I didn’t know why I asked. Probably to fill the silence.
Varyth blinked, a moment of surprise quickly smoothed away.
“You don’t see them,” he said, as if that explained anything at all.
“You mean… you can take them off?”
A low scoff slipped from him. “No. Not quite. Most fae can will them in or out. It’s… inconvenient to walk through doorways with them dragging behind.”
