I liked my house but wished others had been built around it. “I live under a magnifying lens, Remo.” I sighed. “I always wanted to live in acalimboror in one of the smaller beach houses on stilts, or even in the Valley of the Five. Just somewhere morenormal.”
“You could move into the barracks. I’m sure there’d be no objections from my roommates.”
A smile quirked over my lips. “How magnanimous of you, but I think I’ll pass rooming with four men.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t be sharing with four of us. Just with me. I’d kick the others out.”
My heart tripped. “For someone not in the market for a relationship, you’re awfully possessive.”
For several seconds, his jaw worked, as though his mouth were forming plenty of words but then obliterating them. “We’re bound by the Cauldron,” he finally said.
He’d obviously missed my whispered confession last night, so I rehashed it loudly, “Please don’t feel an obligation to be with me because of a magical object, Remo.” I sat, then swung my legs over the side of the bed, and got up.
“Amara—”
“We should head out.” My braid had held, which was nice, since I was all out of hair ties.
As I made my way to the bathroom, Remo called out my name again, but I shut the door and dropped onto the closed toilet lid, and then I laid my face in my palms and shut my eyes. I hated how upset Gregor’s grandson could make me one minute and how special he could make me feel the next. But I especially hated myself for allowing him to have so much pull over my mood.
I needed some distance, but how the hell was I supposed to find any in this magical jail cell?
Besides boarding the train alone . . .
I stared at the door and contemplated leaving before him. Fear won out. I might’ve been a little brave but most definitely not brave enough to face this world alone. That was the reason I waited for him once I’d let myself out of the bathroom and he’d gone inside.
Theonlyreason.
27
The Explosion
When we set off toward the train, the mist belted thecalimbors, masking their crowns.
Remo climbed onto the hovering platform with the ease of a gymnast. He offered me his hand, but I didn’t take it, pretending not to have seen it. I was done holding his hand. With the grace of a steel rod, I hoisted myself up and over.
While Remo grazed the modern touchscreen, I settled on the curved bench and stared out the window until the outside world disappeared behind opaque barriers. And then I curled my palms around the lip of my seat and readied myself for the molar-shattering voyage. I wondered if we actually traveled or if the train was static and the world around us reorganized itself. If it was the latter, then the juddering was unnecessarily cruel.
Then again, this was prison, not some spa with coconuts fitted with striped straws and fuzzy rainbow loungers.
Remo turned around, pressing his palms into the ceiling to keep himself steady. I felt his eyes on me but still refused to look at him. He’d kissed me, confessed he’d liked me for years, and then he went and ruined everything by bringing up his sense of duty to the Cauldron. Most importantly, though, why was I so offended? It wasn’t as thoughI’dharbored feelings for Gregor’s grandson. I probably cared because I was drained, physically and mentally, and exhaustion made me slightly grouchy.
I thought about our kiss, wishing I hadn’t felt anything. It would’ve made it all so much simpler. Feelings couldn’t get hurt when none were involved. The train finally stopped shaking, but my skull didn’t. I swiped my Infinity to release medication into my bloodstream when I remembered the damn thing didn’t work in this damn world.
“Are you okay?” Remo asked as the windows and door retracted.
I really wished he could go back to being an ass, because that made not liking him way simpler. “Just my head, but it’ll pass.”
I got up. Because the compartment was small and he wasn’t, my wedged-in breasts made contact with his firm chest. I chided my skin for tingling. It needed to stop doing that.
“I’d rather a punch than your silence, Amara.”
I stared at his jostling Adam’s apple, and not because I was contemplating punching it—his neck was bruised enough—but because it sat in my direct line of sight and Adam’s apples didn’t stare back in the hopes of excavating your soul.
“Do you think any of this is easy on me? I kiss you, I confess stuff to you that I assumed I’d take to my flowerbed grave, and then you give me the cold shoulder, because I reminded you that we’re bound by the Cauldron—”
I whipped my gaze up to his. “You reminded me? Because you think I forgot?” I tried to step back but the backs of my knees hit the bench. “I’m not mad because of that.”
His eyebrows went up. “Then why are you mad?”
