The portal is close by, and Avilyna’s blood is still there, soaked into the ground. Tracking it, I head straight to the lookout post, hoping to find some clothes before I shift back to my regular, mundane self. Once I’m done washing the blood off my face, trying my best to look semi-civilized, I get ready to cross through the veil.
16
Kai
A SILENT ACCOMPLICE
It takesme a minute to find my bike once I’m through the portal. It was pushed a little farther than I remembered, but luckily for me, it’s still in one piece. The fairings are damaged, but they are not vital pieces and can be easily replaced.
Avilyna’s bag is nearby, I toss it over my shoulder, and get on my bike. The engine roars to life beneath me, feeling the power vibrating through my bones. Making sure the switch for the electromagnetic device Caleb created is on, and just like that, crossing through this portal becomes effortless. The perks of having an alchemist for a best friend.
The Council chose to have a disguised lookout post near every portal that harbours vehicles. They’re stuck in the past, fighting tooth and nail to keep things the same. Can’t stand anything that messes with tradition, and that’s how it is in every kingdom in Elgar.
Those with power are terrified of losing it, especially when it comes to anything new. Anything that might fall into the wrong hands. ‘Knowledge is power,’ King Loras Morween used to say every fucking time I saw him, and I hated that saying.
Back then, I had a hard time withshielding, but he took the time to give me private lessons. I still don’t know why. I was justsome kid with wide eyes, eager to follow in my father’s footsteps, tagging along to castle meetings like I was already someone important.
Activating the phantom runes, they glow faintly, a soft blue under the moonlight, before fading entirely. The bike shivers for a moment, then goes still, silent, invisible. Melting into the landscape, a ghost making its way to the manor.
I arrive in no time, cutting through the hidden passage in the woods that Wyll showed me when we were kids. It became our go-to route, the one we keep to ourselves. We learned early on what happens when the wrong people get access to something to exploit.
Also, an ambush would be disastrous. Especially if the last of our army goes down because a couple of dumbasses couldn’t keep their mouths shut. That’s why the only ones I trust with secrets are Wyll and Caleb.
Everyone else?
Too much risk.
I rush up the steps,hand twisting the knob of her door, only for it to not move at all. She warded it.
Good girl.
A crooked smile pulls at the corner of my mouth, one of the rare, real ones. That flicker of satisfaction feels almost foreign, but I let it carry me forward.
One door down, and I’m in my room. I shrug off my jacket, tossing it onto the bed, already moving toward the balcony. One smooth motion and I’m over the railing, landing on her deck like it’s second nature. Normally, it’d take some effort, but themoon’s influence still lingers, even with dawn crawling up the edge of the sky. It sharpens everything.
She left the balcony doors open, a rookie mistake. Part of me wants to teach her a real lesson for that. My fingers twitch with the urge. And that right there?
That’s what scares me.
Not the want, I’m no saint. I know all about temptation and the darker urges that come with it. I’ve danced with desire more times than I can count.
But this... this is different.
It’s not about just anyone; it’sher.
The feelingis soforeign, tugging at the depths of my gut, something long forgotten. That need, sharp, specific, relentless. It’s not going away like it usually does after a night of blood and pleasure.
And the worst part?
The thought of slipping into her room while she sleeps, thinking she’s safe. It makes my blood burn. My hunger twists into something deeper—darker.
A craving only she can satisfy. I step inside. The mountain breeze trails after me, a silent accomplice. A soft thud echoes as I drop her bag in the corner.
Then I see her.
Avilyna sprawled across the bed, an angelic vision. Her curls are everywhere, wild and untamed, painting fire against the black silk of the pillow. One hand’s resting lazily above her head, the other on that smooth, tanned stomach of hers, like a damn invitation.
She’s breathing slow and steady, her chest rising and falling, as waves on a calm shore. That usual edge, the fight, the storm behind her eyes, is gone. What’s left is something softer, something untouched. Peaceful and fragile.That’swhat gets me, that peace. The urge to protect it tickles down my nerves.
