Taila’s posture tightens, her expression sobering. “Okay.”
I exhale sharply, pushing my chair back, my pulse pounding as I turn my back to her. Slowly, I lift the hem of my shirt, just enough to reveal the markings along my lower back.
Lyra inhales sharply. Her fingers are on my back in an instant.
“By the gods . . . ” she breathes.
Her touch is careful, tracing the raised, glowing lines along my spine. I flinch—because it burns. The tattoos feel electric under her fingertips, as if my skin is still learning how to hold them.
And then—of course—she lifts my shirt higher.
“Lyra!” I hiss, swatting her hand away. I yank the fabric down, face burning.
“Holyshit,” Fenric blurts, far too loud.
Darius stiffens beside me, eyes wide.
A hush rolls through the mess hall like a wave. Conversations falter. Heads turn.
A soldier across the room whistles low. A few soldiers step closer, craning for a better look. I feel it. Their eyes. Their doubt.
A murmur behind me: “That’s impossible.”
An Earth Clan woman leans toward her tablemate, voice low—but not low enough. “No rider has more than one.”
“She’s not even a rider,” someone else says.
The words hang in the air like smoke. Not just shocked.Accusatory.
Before I can say anything, Lyra straightens. She turns on the room, glare sharp enough to slice steel.
“What? Never seen a miracle before?” she drawls, voice sharp as a blade. “Or do you all just enjoy gawking like a bunch of brainless sheep?”
Silence. A few soldiers exchange glances. One of them clears his throat, looking away. Another mutters something into his cup.
Lyra scoffs. “That’s what I thought.”
She turns back to me, muttering, “Idiots.”
I try to breathe away the building unease, but their stares cling to me like smoke. I can see judgment and fear on their faces. Like I’ve been marked by more than just Elemental magics.
Taila reaches across the table, her hand warm over mine. “Forget them,” she says softly.
“Yeah,” Fenric chimes in, his voice lighter but edged. “Don’t let them see you sweat. Not worth it.”
Darius speaks next, quiet and careful—like he’s coaxing meback from somewhere far away. “What do they mean? Did you tell Valen yet?”
I shake my head, trying to keep my expression neutral. “I will soon. I’m meeting him for training this morning.”
Lyra nods. “Good. He’ll know what they mean.”
Then she lays her hand on top of Taila’s and mine. Her voice drops—low and steady.
“Listen to me, Mara. Whatever those marks are . . . you’re stillyou.”
The hall is still too quiet, the weight of too many eyes lingering on me. Then—someone coughs. A tray clatters.
And trusting my friends, the moment loosens, just enough for me to breathe again.
