“Sorry, Minister, I promised this one a sunset walk, and we’ll miss it if we don’t get moving.”
Serrane’s hand hangs in the air for a heartbeat too long. Then he lowers it, still smiling. “Of course. A lovely idea. Enjoy, you two.”
Talen gives another respectful bow before stepping past him and the two initiates, who haven’t moved an inch. I try not to stare too closely at them; there’s something about the way they stand that makes my skin crawl. But I can’t help catching theflash of red hair beneath one of their hoods. The same cadet I saw volunteer a few months back.
We take a few steps; Talen’s fingers still interlaced around mine. Not controlling. Just... tight. Intentional. But then?—
“Oh, Officer Veirmont,” Serrane calls lightly behind us. “Just before you go…” We both stop. Talen turns his head, composed, but I feel his hand tighten on mine, just for a fraction of a second. “Thank you for your help with that little problem last month. I always appreciate your many talents—” He pauses. “—and your discretion.”
Talen nods, then turns and keeps walking, pulling me with him.
Once Serrane is out of view, the tension in my jaw finally eases and Talen lets my voice go. I move my hand over my throat, almost rubbing it as if to make sure it’s really mine again.
“What was that about?” I mutter, staring at him, willing him to say something. Just this once.
But he doesn’t. Mouth drawn tight, eyes locked ahead, he keeps walking in silence. His grip doesn’t falter though, fingers still tight around mine, like that alone could keep me from asking again. Not that I need it; I know better than to even try.
I’m still annoyed he won’t talk, but the longer his hand stays on mine, the harder it is to stay mad. Fingers threaded steady and warm, so warm it makes my pulse pick up, a steady rhyme growing behind my ribs.
He hasn’t touched me in months. Four, exactly. Not since that first day of training, when he reached for my face and got too close. Too intimate. Too much.
Luckily, before I get any bad ideas, Talen stops outside a door. His gaze drops, and for a moment, his expression sharpens, like he’s only just realised his fingers are still laced around mine. He lets go, quick, stepping back a fraction. The sudden absence of his hand leaves a hollow ache in my palm.I take a breath, letting the tension ease slightly, and notice the door beside him.
My brows pinch; it’s familiar, though I can’t place why. But when I look back at Talen, the crooked grin has returned, sliding back into place, and I realise exactly where he’s brought me.
“Oh no, no, I don’t need to go back out there again,” I say, jaw tight. “It was bad enough when you abandoned me the first time.”
“I would’ve thought you’d have fonder memories of our first date.” He says, grin tugging at his lips. “And if I recall, you’re the one who kneed me in the balls, so really, the bad memories should be mine.” He pauses, more serious now. “Look, you’re getting better at control, but now you need to be able to do it in situations that scare you. So we’re going to keep walking along this ledge until you can knot your Threads easily.”
Fuck. I’m too tired for this. My stomach flips just seeing the door. I could say no, tell him to shove it and crawl off into bed. But what if I never get better? What if this is the only way forward, and I walk away from it again? I need control, I need answers,revenge.
I exhale through my nose. “Fine… but if I’m going to do this, give me something. You get to see everything I’m bad at, everything I’m scared of—it’s embarrassing. I never get to see yours.”
He tilts his head, just slightly. I assume he won’t answer. Then?—
“Spiders.”
I blink at him. “What?”
“Spiders. I fucking hate them, scare the shit out of me.” He pushes the door open, gesturing for me to step through.
Spiders, really? I want to tease, but I'm also just happy he gave me anything at all, so I bite it down and step forward, but then I hesitate for a second.
“Is this a trap? Are you definitely not going to leave me out there again...”
“No. It’s not a trap.” He exhales slow.
“You know, Ezzy says you’re a trap, calls you theNightrose... after the carnivorous flower. Says you lure helpless moths in, only to devour them alive.”
Talen throws his head back and lets out a soft laugh. “Well then, I guess we’re made for each other. Because there’s nothing delicate about you,Thorn.” He holds the door wider, just enough for me to step through. “Now, let’s go.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Alinor Bloom, Ashvale, Outerlands, Entry #172
I haven’t touched this journal in over a year. I thought if I ignored it long enough, the ache might dull.
It hasn’t.
