‘Moira,’ I slur. My head is spinning. ‘Stop! This is insane.’ I start to squirm, using every last bit of strength I have to buck wildly beneath her. My hands reach up and take hold of her wrists, one in each hand. I attempt to push her off me one more time, but all I can manage is to hold her arms at bay.
‘Let me go,’ she growls between her teeth, then yelps out in pain when I bend her left wrist backward at an unnatural angle, hoping that’ll distract her enough that I can kick her off me.
But suddenly, the door not far from my head slams against the wall as it bursts open. Bright light spills into the tunnel as someone storms in. Moira is ripped off of me and thrown up against the wall by Sebastian.
Sebastian?
She immediately starts to fight against his hold, but it’s fruitless. Even from my position on the ground I can tell the hold he has on her is immovable.
Jed rushes in behind him, followed by Lillian who curses loudly when she stops to bend down and try to help me up. But I can barely lift my own head, let alone get my feet under me.
‘What the fuck were you doing using your element on a fellow student?’ Sebastian bellows.
‘She attackedme!’ I hear the wobble in Moira’s voice, as fictitious as her humility. ‘It was self-defence.’
Liar!
‘She attacked you from the floor? Bullshit,’ he snarls. ‘If you want to play with fire, Davis, all you have to do is ask!’ Flames ignite around his forearms, licking their way down toward his fists where he has hold of her collar.
Her eyes flare wide. She starts to scream; it is piercing and grates at my ears.
‘Shit, Silver.’ Jed crouches down near my head, blocking my view of Sebastian and Moira. But I see Lillian rush toward them. Jed’s concerned eyes roam over my face. One of his big hands reaches to push away the hair that’s strewn across my forehead. Without thinking, I flinch. A flicker of hurt flashes in his eyes for a moment, before he blinks it away. I’d feel bad but black spots start to darken my vision, causing his face to blur.
‘Jed! Get Davis out of here.Now!’ Lillian orders. ‘Before Seb loses it.’
Jed curses and jumps to his feet. I hear him start to argue with Sebastian. ‘You need to take Nocthare to the infirmary. She won’t let me touch her and if we wait any longer it’ll scar.’
Infirmary?
Scar?
I will my hand to reach up and feel for the wound that’s sending searing pain across my cheek, but between the spotty vision and my fading adrenaline, my arm doesn’t seem able to cooperate. It lays limp at my side, as if it’s boneless.
Whatever else the two men say is muffled and doesn’t quite reach my ears. The next thing I know, Sebastian is crouching beside me.
His warm hands cradle my head; fingers gently prodding around, searching for something in my hair. When he touches a particularly tender spot, a pained groan slips out.
Sebastian’s eyes darken. I’m scooped up from the ground and curled into his chest, which is damp and smells of the oils in the bathing rooms and his familiar smoky, warm scent. I focus on that as my head spins viciously.
The stubborn urge to tell him I can walk myself rises faintly at the back of my mind and as if he can sense what I’m thinking he grits out, ‘Just be quiet and let me help you.’
That gives me pause, because those are the last words I ever expected to hear fall from his lips.
Let me help you.
Maybe I imagined them? I must have hit my head. That’s why I’m bleeding. It’s clearly affecting my hearing.
Yes, that’s the only conclusion that makes sense right now, and I hold onto it as my body gently rocks to each of his measured steps and my vision goes completely black.
TWENTY-SEVEN
When I wake up, I’m surprised to find myself in my own bed, tucked tightly beneath the covers, but even more surprised to find Sebastian sitting at the foot of it. His back is against the wall, and his feet are crossed at his ankles that hang off the side. A stubby little flame weaves between his fingers as he sits there, back and forth. My eyes drift to the sharp angles of his face. He’s not even looking at the flame, his gaze instead fixed on the wall on the other side of the room.
The flame dances between his fingers so effortlessly, my own fingers itch against my stomach as I lay there and watch, enamoured by how easy it seems for him.
‘How do you do that?’ I hear myself ask softly, breaking the silence.
Sebastian’s posture stiffens at the sound of my voice; his flame snuffs out with a tiny plume of smoke, which he bats away, as he twists to face me. The faraway look he was sporting vanishes with a blink; quickly replaced with one of undiluted anger.
