She barely heard him until his gentle shove brought some distance between them, and he eyed her with unmasked hunger and defeat, waiting for her to catch her breath.
“You’re on fire.”
It took her a moment to understand he was talking about literal fire.
At first, a glow of orange at her palms was the only thing she could see, but when Falcrest took her by the wrists, holding up her hands between them, clusters of flames were racing in her palms.
“Fuck—”
Fire magic. This wasn’t light or an illusion. It was fire—as gold and orange as the one from the torches on the walls, and just as hot. Only, not a hint of pain followed the fire in her hands.
“You could say so.”
Lory’s ragged breathing didn’t return to normal for a long time after Falcrest turned on his heels and left the room, leaving her to calm down until the fire in her palms winked out—the fire in her chest, however, didn’t.
When Lory enteredthe mess hall for dinner that night, Falcrest’s chair was empty, and from the table on the platform, General Ycken and Nefetari Brunn were eyeing her like she was an insect to be squashed. Perhaps she was imagining it, but even Dunveil seemed to be paying her attention as she picked up a tray and loaded it with a bowl of soup and the same fig-nut salad Aiden was picking from the counter in front of her.
“Did anything happen during training?” He paused long enough to scan her face for injuries or those little lines of frustration appearing between her brows at times.
Awkwardly, Lory ran her empty hand over her hair, almost getting stuck in her braid. In her palm, she’d held fire—real, actual fire—mere hours ago, while Falcrest had paced the stone chamber on level two of the basement with an expression on his face like someone had hit him in the face.
“It was an interesting session for sure.” If only she’d sound as casual as she was trying to.
Aiden requited her words with a raised brow. “Judging by the way your hands are trembling, I’d say you found out what sort of magic you truly have?”
Clutching the tray tightly, Lory shot him a forbidding glance. “You can’t tell anyone,” she hissed, not that anyone was paying attention—except half of leadership, of course. Whatever Falcrest had told them, they were watching her suspiciously closely, even from up there. But then, Aiden had seen her burst into flames the first time, and he’d kept his mouth shut, just as Falcrest ordered.
“Wasn’t planning to.” He shrugged, piling bread and cheese onto a plate before he advanced to the tea station. Lory followed closely. “I was merely considering whether my own magic could be of any use when practicing yours.”
Sometimes, Lory forgot that he was no longer Frost, the man who would freeze her over with his glacial eyes or his icy magic, but Aiden Bellmont, the boy who lost a sister, and to him, she’d become the girl who lost a brother.
“Maybe…” Together they made their way to the table, sitting next to each other at the very edge, so the others couldn’t hear them. “No idea what Falcrest is planning to do about it. He can’t keep it a secret forever.”
“Until the Knowledge test.”
Of course. But she needed at least some modicum of control before then. Maybe they could still mask it as light magic in front of Dunveil.
The way the Knowledge Hand tilted his head up there, at his table, told Lory they couldn’t hide anything from him, and the reason Falcrest wasn’t there made her stomach clench with worry.
Worry—
Worrying about Khayrivven was new, as was the flush of heat rising in her chest at the thought of how he’d coaxed out her magic.
Lust, a powerful emotion, but she hadn’t been the only one falling prey to it. The captain had been just as swept up in the moment.
And that was all it was. A moment. A means to get her magic to unfold without setting the entire building on fire. Like a phantom touch, the memory of his hand ghosted over her cheek, and her mouth tasted of salt and sweet spices. Lory pressed her knees together at the thought of how his body had responded to hers.
Just a moment.
“Where is Falcrest, by the way? Running errands?” Aiden’s gaze had followed hers to the empty spot at the leadership table.
“As if he’d tell me that.”
Thal and Jarek were sitting down across from them with Tabi next to Lory, her tray uncharacteristically empty.
“Where were you at Veiled training today?” Thal prompted, pulling strings of water from the jar at the center of the table into his glass before doing the same for Tabi and Jarek.
“Private session with the captain,” Aiden answered for her with a roll of his eyes, and Lory wanted to squeeze him in a hug for not making it awkward. “She’s behind on magic training, and Captain Falcrest is the best.”
