“Next.”
The call pulls my attention forward and I lean over, reaching for a tray but then a heavy arm slaps across my back.
“There you are.”
I jolt, whipping around to find Lucien towering over me, the dull gemstone around his neck hanging loose over a white linen shirt, no Citadel uniform in sight.
“Been looking for you. You ready?” he asks.
“Ready for what?” I reply, dazed.
His grin flashes bright against his dark skin “To go flying.”
CHAPTER TEN
“Sorry you didn’t get to eat anything,” Lucien remarks as the noise of the camp falls away behind us.
“It’s fine.” The words come out short. Although I’m determined to fly—to get over this fear of heights—I don’t want to do it withhim.
In front of us, Ahria and Lucien’s blue dragon glide ahead. My gaze follows them while they fly out over the scrubland toward an open clearing, the lake stretching out wide beyond it.
As we get closer, a cold breeze rolls in off the water, a welcome break from the day’s blazing sun. It should cool me, only it doesn’t—not with Talen’s flight jacket hanging heavy over my shoulders. Not only does it trap the warmth against my skin, but it also carries a familiar scent, stirring a different kind of heat that even the breeze can’t touch.
Fanning myself, I push the feelings down and shift my focus to Lucien while he walks beside me.
He’s also wearing a black leather jacket and matching trousers, with a white linen shirt tucked into the waistband, stretched taut across the broad muscles of his chest, the bright fabric stark against his dark skin.
I have to tip my head back just to take him in. He’s a bloody wall—solid and immovable. I can’t picture his hands being able to touch his toes, but I can picture them closing around a skull. Easy.
The thought lands, and before I can stop it, the images of the Trials come rushing in—Rowan, the blood, Ezzy’s screams.
Despite the heat, a shiver rolls through me. Folding my arms across my chest, I recoil a step away from him, desperate to put space between us before the memory can settle any deeper.
“Come on.” His brows lift as his attention settles on me. “Out with it.”
“Out with what?” I turn my face away from him.
“Youknowwhat.” He steps back in closer. “I’m not taking you up in the air like this.”
I don’t look at him, but it doesn’t help. I can still feel him glaring at me—the heaviness of the question pressing in, increasing the longer I stay quiet, until it gets harder and harder to keep everything locked down and eventually, I break.
“You killed Rowan!” The words tear free as I drop my arms, breath coming too fast. “Cut his throat like... like it was nothing.”
Beside me, Lucien doesn’t even flinch. “And you killed Beth.”
Fuck him.
“I didn’t. Technically her magic backfired on her somehow—she killed herself.”
“Thentechnicallythe dragon killed Rowan,” he responds, like it’s obvious. “He was already gone. I simply ended it, quick and clean. It was the most humane thing I could have done. Plus I saw it in your face. Youwereabout to kill her. Not that I blame you... she fooled us all and called you down.”
I shake my head, but the argument doesn’t land the way I intend because he’s right. I was about to kill her. I would have done it. And I know, deep down, that Rowan was in pain, that by the time Lucien got to him, there wasn’t anything left to save.
My vision blurs for a second, moisture swelling behind my eyes as the guilt drops through me like a stone. Because it’s not him I'm mad at; it's me. I could have stopped it, if I had been more careful, maybe the ambush never would have happened. Maybe Finn and Rowan would still be here, maybe Ezzy wouldn't have gotten hurt?—
“So anyway,” he adds, “if we’re going with technically, I’d say we’re pretty even.”
Blinking back the tears before he or Ahria can see them, I glance over to find his dark eyes already on me, taking in the soot streaking my clothes and the dried blood cracking over my knees. We stopped by the tent to grab Talen’s jacket, but I didn’t have time to wash or change, so I still look like a complete mess.
