Red bloomed above his lip, a trick from the fire or...
He brushed his nose quickly with his free hand, trying to wipe it away, to disguise the dizziness that tilted his balance for half a heartbeat.
I took a step toward him on instinct. “Wells—”
“No.” The shake of his head was barely noticeable. “Don’t.”
The words struck harder than they should have.
He tore a small bottle free from his pocket and drank it down in one swallow, not even wincing. The glass flashed familiar in his palm. When he straightened again, he only chuckled, a quick, hasty lie, before turning back to his work.
I knew that glass, knew exactly where it came from.
I couldn’t leave fast enough.
The door clicked shut behind me, crisp air replacing the swelter. I was grateful for it as it dried the sweat still clinging to my neck. My back pressed against the steeled door, head falling against it, eyes closing as the breeze filled my lungs.
Callum’s note.
I reached into my pocket, fingers fumbling until the parchment crumpled beneath my touch.
Something is planned in four days. Something big.
Obrann has his own schemes, butwewill rain fire.
My spine snapped straight. Thatwedidn’t includeme.
For six years, Callum and I had led the Awakened Order together. Every maneuver. Every strike. Ours.Equal.
But this…this had been planned without me.
A fissure cracked through my chest. Was his trust thinning more with each moment the veins beneath my skin were tainted?
I tucked the note away, my gut screaming to be wary, and I forced myself to walk, to move back into the noise of Csolenia. To take a breath.
Because dread never saved anyone. But readiness just might.
The morning had drained me dry from socializing.
I should’ve gone home, collapsed into the sleep I’d been yearning for since dawn. But one more stop beckoned. A mutter of obligation.
A longing for comfort.
Unfortunately, trouble got there first.
Apparently flipping a dagger in the air while strolling through town wasmischievous.Who knew? I thought it was soothing.
A mortal on his way to morning prayers disagreed.Loudly. He fetched a guard. Though, it didn’t end the way either thought it would. It appears I’ve been underestimating my ability to persuade…given the right leverage.
Now I crept through the weathered oak door that had welcomed me time after time. An entrance directly into repose.
I winced at the small creak it made, remembering how it made it nearly impossible to sneak away at night all those years.
Cinnamon and clove rushed at me, warmth and welcome in a single breath. There was no one in sight, just the burble of liquid simmering on the stove, light pooling over the worn counters where a chipped mug sat. The one she always kept waiting.
I closed the door behind me. “Gemma?” Nothing. “Hello!” My voice carried into the cozy quiet. “I’m intruding. I didn’t even knock!” I stepped further in, mud streaking the runner leading into the kitchen. “Didn’t wipe my shoes either…”
Still no answer.
