How much it takes.
My esteem for Thorne grows immensely in that moment.
And I’m not afraid.
Not really.
I wrap the cloak tighter around me because even though the air is hot, beneath the cloak I feel fine.
Like it insulates me—magically conditions the air around me or something.
I take another step forward, past the edge of the pavilion’s shadow.
Because something inside me says I have to understand this world.
And I won’t do that waiting passively for Thorne to return.
Then I smell it. Something smoky and sweet.
Like spiced heat.
It’s his scent.
His presence that somehow remains in the hollow part of my mind, curling over my skin like a second cloak.
I close my eyes, breathing it in.
“Is that you?” I whisper into the wind, not expecting an answer.
But one comes.
“I am close, Shula,” his voice rumbles in my mind, just as vivid as if he were standing behind me. “You are safe. Nothing shall harm you here.”
I press a hand to my chest.
I believe him.
And that scares me more than any flame-creature ever could.
Another voice cuts into my reverie. But this one isn’t in my head.
It’s right here.
“So,” a deep voice drawls. “Need rescuing yet?”
I turn.
It’s the tall one—Alaric, I think his name is.
He’s stormy-eyed and sharp-jawed, and he is watching me with obvious skepticism.
The other, Kael, stands beside him, quiet, unreadable.
There’s an elegance to him. Regal. Cold.
As if nothing surprises him anymore. Not even me.
“Excuse me?” I blink.
