Page 79 of A Reign of Chromes & Shadows

“That’s just because you haven’t tried it yet,” he shot back, taking the bait.

Raymon responded by sending the last two stars simultaneously at different angles. Rain avoided one, but the second sliced cleanly across his bicep before embedding itself in the wall.

“Fucking ouch.” Blood trickled down his arm in a warm, steady line. “Blades hurt. Who knew.”

Raymon strode toward him, grabbed his arm, inspected the wound, then released him. “It’s just a scratch.”

“A deep scratch,” Rain muttered.

“Get it seen to when we finish. That’s an order.”

“Yes, master.” Rain bowed dramatically, smirking at Raymon’s glare.

“Seriously, I’m impressed. I expected to need to go easy on you.” Raymon tossed him a water bottle. Rain caught it one-handed. “We know you’re good at hand-to-hand combat, but out in the real world you rely on your power to protect yourself and others and you should. But with the way things are escalating, it doesn’t hurt to train your reflexes and sharpen your other senses. From what you showed today, colour me impressed.”

He clapped a hand on Rain’s bare shoulder. “I want you capable of protecting yourself from anything that comes your way. My duty isn’t fulfilled until I know you can.”

“Thanks, Raym. I appreciate it. Even if you do have me fighting for my life too bloody early in the morning.” Rain stretched, a yawn dragging itself out of him at the mention of morning.

“Hey,” Raymon whispered, stepping closer and eyeing the guards stationed at the door. The king had ordered the royal guard to shadow Rain since Azday’s dinner; apparently realising his own son was a threat.

“I have something for you. Before Isarion left, he asked me to bring you…” Raymon lowered his voice further. “Pure Red Aetherchrome. The opportunity came up yesterday while I was across the border for my monthly recharge.”

It was an Aetherial’s birthright to access the land their power stemmed from—denying them that was like denying someone clean water.

“I visited a relative who works in the palace, close to Drazier. Let’s just say she isn’t loyal to her king. You might be surprised to know you’re not as much a threat to Drazier as some of his own subjects are. After I mentioned Isarion’s request, she insisted on retrieving some from the palace vault for you.”

He pulled a red velvet pouch from his pocket and pretended to clap Rain’s hand, passing it discreetly into his palm. Rain felt for the energy inside, but it was nullified—shielded by protective magic.

“Wait until you’re alone,” Raymon murmured. “I doubt anything will happen, but I’m sure you don’t want witnesses running back to His Majesty if it does. Isarion made it sound like you’d be able to channel Red Aether, which is impossible. You’re a Blue Aetherial… right?”

Rain said nothing. He simply slid the pouch into his pocket.

“Thank you for the gift, Raymon,” he whispered. “I guess he’s giving me homework even in his absence.”

Raymon eyed him suspiciously, but his energy said he preferred not to know more.

“Alright, that’s it for today. Go get that stitched and wrapped—you’re bleeding everywhere.” Raymon raised his voice, letting it echo through the training hall, giving Rain a look that said far more than he could speak aloud.

Rain nodded. He twisted his arm to inspect the damage and blinked at the amount of blood. His entire arm glistened red, from the gash at his bicep, down his wrist, dripping off his knuckles onto the floor.

The bastard got me good, he thought, smiling fondly.

After exchanging farewells, he headed toward the healing quarters, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

Two hours later, Rain was back on the training ground with the rest of the team. Jay sat on the sidelines, watching them swing from the hanging rings. They worked well together; after a few hiccups, they managed to keep everyone from touching the ground, making it cleanly to the other side. Finally—a course that shouldn’t be too difficult. The real challenge would be getting Jay across without hurting him further. Something they’d have to improvise on the day.

Rain swung from the last set of hoops and landed lightly on his feet.

“Perfect! Give yourselves a clap on the back because we smashed that!” he praised, glancing down at his bandaged arm. He worried he’d pulled a stitch, but the white fabric remained clean. A good sign.

He joined Jay on the bench, leaning in for a kiss. The overwhelming butterflies radiating from Jay swarmed over him, warm and dizzying. Rain smiled as he pulled back.

“I will never stop loving the way you feel when I kiss you.”

“How do I feel?” Jay asked, cheeks flushing.

Rain straddled the bench, bracketing Jay with his legs, and kissed him again; this time sliding his tongue softly between Jay’s lips. Jay’s heart leapt, butterflies twirling between them as Rain mirrored the sensation back, amplifying it. Jay moaned into the kiss.