Yawning, I rub my eyes against the dim lantern light, careful not to trip on any tent ropes as I walk.
God, why the hell does Reya want to train so late?
But who am I kidding, it’s not like I’ll get any sleep if I’d stayed in bed. Not only is the silence from Ezzy becoming unbearable but the itch that’s been building under my skin all month has turned red-hot. So it’s probably for the best to try and let some of the stress out—release some Threads. I’ve no idea how many I have stored; knotting has become like breathing and something I don’t even think about anymore.
A green blur flashes past me, as Ahria gives chase to a moth caught in a lantern hanging outside the Briefing Tent. At least tomorrow I won’t have to teach—Merrin will be here instead, running another update. I can’t believe it’s already been a month since the last one.
All day that’s all I’ve been able to think about, not the briefing itself, but whether or not Talen will be there. It’s only made the itch worse, settling under my skin as a constant tension I can’t quite shake, no matter how hard I try to focus anywhere else. It doesn’t help knowing the Letter-threader is sitting under my bed, waiting—that I could pick it up at any moment and tell him exactly what I’ve been dreaming about doing to him...
But I can't go there. I can’t open it. Not while Ezzy still won’t talk to me, won’t even look at me. And she has every right not to. If it weren't for my choices, Rowan would still be alive. Finn would still be here. Ezzy would still be with her family.
And the second I talk to Talen, really talk to him, I’ll understand his choices. I’ll forgive him. And if I can do that for him, then I’ll have to turn that same mercy on myself, and suddenly all my actions become something I get to survive instead of something I have to pay for.
No. I can’t let that happen. I just need to focus on the anger. He didn't tell me I could die at Blood Moon. He didn't tell me about his relationship with Reya. Anger is simpler. Cleaner. Stops everything else I want to say—or do—from flooding in.
With more force than necessary, I yank back the flap of the Combat Tent, the scent of warm sweat and damp canvas hitting me immediately. Ahria hangs back, distracted by the moths spiralling around the lantern outside beside Reya’s purple dragon, Shanwyn, but I duck inside. It’s dim, and it takes my wild eyes a second to adjust before I spot Reya hunched over on the far side of the first mat.
“For fuck’s sake,” she mutters to herself as she rummages through her pack without glancing over.“Where’s the box?”
Candlelight spills over her as she moves, catching the lines of the fire tattoo along her neck and my gaze follows before I can stop it. Tracing the ink as it runs down her dark, tanned skin, disappearing beneath her shirt only to reappear lower, where thefabric has lifted just enough to see it skimming the curve of her hips before it vanishes again beneath the waistband at her toned stomach.
The tent isn’t even that warm, but heat still gathers under my skin as I wonder whether Talen’s tongue has ever been on it. Wonder what it would be like if mine was?—
"Want to see where it ends?" Reya teases.
My eyes snap straight to hers and my blood instantly cools when I realise she’s caught me staring.
“No, I was?—”
“It’s fine, I don't charge for looking.” She cuts in with a smirk, then turns back to her pack.
Fuck, am I that exhausted, that strung out, that I can’t even keep my head straight anymore? I mean, I know it’s been a while since I got any action, but has it really been that long that even Reya’s setting me off?—
Shaking my head, I push out a breath and step onto the mat. God, I need a good night's sleep. I was counting on training to take the edge off, but it’s not going to touch this, not when it’s built up this much.
No—this needs something else.
“You know they’re never going to listen to you, Freckles, if you don’t demonstrate why they should.” She throws the words over her shoulder at me as she continues to rummage through her things. “You're not leading; you're just teaching... if you can even call it that.”
I grit my teeth, the frustration already sitting too close to the surface as she curses under her breath and gives up on whatever she was searching for and joins me on the mat.
“I’m not going to train them like it’s the Citadel,” I snap, forcing my hands steady as she strides toward me, stopping far closer than necessary.
“Stars, someone’s in a bad mood.” She plants her hands on her hips, and my focus catches on the slow sweep of her tongue across her bottom lip in a way that has me biting down on my own. “You really ought to let some of that tension out before it gets someone hurt.”
A short laugh escapes me. “You can talk.”
She raises a brow, but ignores the jab and continues. “Look, I’m not telling you to fucking kill them. I’m just saying, if you want to lead, you need to give them a reason to follow.” Her eyes lock on mine and hold as though she’s waiting for a response.
“Sure, okay—fine, I’ll think about it.” My jaw stiffens as I drop my gaze from hers and step back a fraction. Teaching is already embarrassing enough, and I’m going to lose it if she stands here pushing for more, so I shift the conversation before she can. “Anyway... how's things with you and Luc?”
“We’re simply having some fun,” she scoffs, so casual as she flicks her palm over and the candles in the room instantly respond, their flames whipping toward her and gathering in her hand until she’s holding an orange-sized ball of fire.
My pulse jumps a beat, but nothing like JC’s fire the other day.
“I’m sure it’s not just fun for him.” My tone is harsher than I intend, as I shift into stance, readying myself.
She grumbles something but I don't catch it before she launches the first fireball directly at my face. It explodes the second it hits the shield of moisture I’ve already pulled around myself, the impact kicking back into my arms as I press into my feet, holding it steady until the heat bleeds off.
