Tempest Awakening (The Dragonne Library #1)

Chapter 13

Kane

The clash of steel echoed through the training yard as Mason's blade met mine with brutal force. Around us, other Dragon Rider applicants paired off, their own weapons ringing out in a cacophony of metal on metal. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and determination.

Even after years of rigorous training, I still marveled at Mason's raw power. With shoulders that dwarfed most applicants, he was a force of nature. Several of the other trainees had paused their own sparring to watch us, awed by the intensity of our match.

Our swords locked, and I found myself staring into his dark eyes, noting the scar that ran from his forehead through his eyebrow to his cheekbone. A reminder of his past, of the world I'd rescued him from.

The underground fighting ring.

The place I used to frequent as an outlet for stress, for the relentless pursuit of perfection demanded by my father. It was a place I once thought of as a sanctuary, a place where I could let loose, fight, and forget.

But that was before I discovered the ugly truth. Before I found Mason, scarred and broken, a victim of a system that treated people as commodities. I used to fight willingly, reveling in the raw power and adrenaline. But for Mason, and others like him, the ring was a prison. They did not fight for thrill or respite; they fought for survival.

Slavery, in any form, was abhorrent to me. And the realization that I had unknowingly participated, even reveled in such a system, filled me with guilt and anger.

With a swift movement, Mason disarmed me, my sword clattering to the ground. I stumbled back, my chest heaving. The watching applicants murmured in appreciation of Mason's skill.

"You're distracted," he said, his deep voice tinged with concern.

I nodded, trying to catch my breath. "Just... thinking."

As we began cooling down, the other trainees returning to their own exercises, I decided to broach another subject that had been nagging at me all day. "So, what's the deal with you and that librarian? Tempest, right?"

Mason's posture stiffened almost imperceptibly. If I hadn't been looking for it, I might have missed it. "What about her?"

"Come on, Mason. I've known you for years, and I've never seen you so... chatty with anyone outside of Kali and me. What gives?"

He was quiet for a moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he sighed. "We were friends when we were kids. Before... everything."

I raised an eyebrow. "Childhood friends? That's... convenient."

Mason's eyes flashed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I held up my hands in a placating gesture. "Hey, I'm just looking out for you. People change, Mason. Just because she was your friend back then doesn't mean she's trustworthy now."

"You don't know her," he said, his voice low.

"Neither do you. Not anymore."

Mason grabbed his towel, wiping the sweat from his face. When he looked at me again, his expression was neutral, but I could see the tension in his jaw. "I should go. Kali will be home from school soon."

As he moved away, I found myself speaking. "I think I'll head to the library. Work on that Oral History project."

Mason paused, then turned back, his gaze searching. After a moment, he nodded. "Right. The project."

As he left the training grounds, navigating through the crowd of exhausted applicants, I allowed myself a small sigh. The truth was, I couldn't get Tempest Whittaker out of my mind. Her golden-brown eyes, the defiant set of her jaw. The pull I felt towards her was unlike anything I'd experienced before. It wasn't just physical attraction—though that was certainly part of it. No, this felt deeper, more significant somehow.

But I had a mission. A vow I'd made long ago, born from the ashes of my own pain and the suffering I'd witnessed.

My father's abuse, his prejudices against those he deemed lesser—it had opened my eyes to the injustices in our world. But it was rescuing Mason and Kali from that hellish underground fighting ring that truly crystallized my purpose.

The memory of finding them, broken and scarred, still haunted me. It wasn't just prejudice Supes were facing; it was outright slavery in some cases. The realization had hit me like a physical blow, cementing my resolve to change things.

I made my way through the library's winding corridors, my mind racing. The plan was forming, a delicate web of half-truths and misdirection. The Oral History project was my way in—my chance to investigate the fighting rings that had nearly destroyed Mason, to gather the information needed to bring them down once and for all.

I couldn't ignore the opportunity her presence presented. It wasn't that I had anything against Tempest personally as a human. In fact, I was a strong proponent of integrating humans and Supes. I admired her courage in stepping into our world, and I couldn't deny my attraction to her.

But her project... it was a golden opportunity. Through her, I could gain access to people and information I couldn't reach on my own. She was unknowingly holding the key to unlocking doors that had long been closed to me.

As I approached Tempest's office, I paused, taking a moment to compose myself. I couldn't let my growing feelings for her cloud my judgment. This was about justice, about righting a wrong I'd left festering for far too long.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. Whatever my personal feelings, I had to stay focused on the bigger picture. The fight against prejudice and slavery was too important to jeopardize.

I knocked on her door, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway. As I waited for a response, I silently renewed my vow. For Mason, for Kali, for all the Supes who had suffered—I would see this through, no matter the cost. Even if it meant using Tempest's project in ways she never intended.

"Come in," her voice called out, and I felt a familiar tug of awareness as I stepped inside.

She looked up from her desk, a hint of surprise flickering across her features before she offered me a polite smile. "Mr. Ellesar. I wasn't expecting you."

The sight of her hit me like a physical force. Her honey-gold eyes, framed by long lashes, seemed to pull me in. The soft curve of her lips as she smiled made my breath catch. Even the simple act of her tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear sent a jolt of electricity through me.

Ignoring my attraction to her was proving harder in reality than in theory. Every time I saw her, my body reacted traitorously. My mouth went dry, my palms grew damp, and it took every ounce of self-control not to reach out and touch her. I shifted slightly, acutely aware of the growing tightness in my pants. My heart raced, and I could feel my pulse throbbing in my neck.

"Please, call me Kane," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I wanted to discuss the Oral History project in more detail, if you have a moment."

"I had some ideas," Tempest replied, her eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "Actually, I was thinking of interviewing your father. As the Lord Protector, he must have a wealth of knowledge about the supernatural world."

I felt a jolt of alarm at her words. The thought of Tempest and my father in the same room sent a chill down my spine. My father's views on humans were... problematic, to say the least. The way he'd look at her, speak to her—it made my blood boil just thinking about it.

"That's... not advisable," I said quickly, perhaps too sharply. Tempest's brow furrowed in confusion, and I softened my tone. "My father is a very busy man, and not particularly inclined towards... academic pursuits. Perhaps we should consider someone else in a leadership position?"

"I see," Tempest said, her voice pulling me from my thoughts. "Do you have any suggestions then?”

I paused, considering my options. Truth be told, I didn't mind actually helping out on the project. It was a necessary part of my plan, after all. To gain Tempest's trust and access the information I needed, I'd have to do a good job. Otherwise, Moriyana would grow suspicious, and that was the last thing I needed.

"What about Garrick Burke? He's the Master of the Wing at the Dragon Rider Guild."

Tempest's eyes widened with interest. "I've heard of him. But I'm not sure what 'Master of the Wing' means. Could you tell me more about the Guild's structure? I'm still trying to understand how it all fits together."

Her question caught me off guard, and I felt a surge of admiration. Her intelligence and curiosity were captivating, drawing me in despite my best efforts to maintain emotional distance. The way her mind worked, always seeking to understand more, to dig deeper – it was incredibly attractive.

I nodded, finding myself wanting to share more, just to see that spark of interest in her eyes. "Of course. The Guild's hierarchy is quite intricate," I began, leaning forward.

"At the top is the Moriyana, the Grand Luminary of the Dragonne Library. She oversees the Guild's alignment with the Library's objectives. My father, as Lord Protector, reports directly to the Moriyana and has the highest authority within the Guild itself, but has no authority within the actual Library."

Tempest nodded, her brow furrowed in concentration.

"Under my father are two key positions," I continued. "The Headmaster of the Academy, Isolde Northfall, oversees all academic training. Then there's Garrick Burke, the Master of the Wing, who manages active dragon riders and their operations."

"That's fascinating," Tempest said, her eyes alight with genuine interest. "So Garrick would have a unique perspective on both the operational side and the relationship with your father?"

I nodded, impressed by her quick grasp of the situation. "Exactly. That's why I think he'd be an excellent choice for an interview."

Tempest tapped her pen thoughtfully against her notebook. "That's a great suggestion. But I'm curious about Supes who aren't directly associated with the Library. Are there other important groups or individuals we should consider?"

Her question sent my mind racing. I hadn't anticipated this line of inquiry, but I quickly realized its potential. This assignment wasn't just about gaining access to information about the underground fighting rings—it could also open doors to Supes in high places. Contacts and resources that could prove invaluable in furthering my mission.

I leaned back, impressed by her insight. "Actually, yes. There's the Omnium, for instance. They're the leadership body for Supes living among humans."

Her eyebrows rose with interest. "Really? I had no idea such an organization existed."

"Most humans don't," I explained, watching her scribble notes furiously. "The Omnium works behind the scenes, aligning Supe laws with human regulations. Someone from their ranks could offer a unique perspective on integration challenges."

Tempest nodded enthusiastically. "That sounds perfect. Any specific names?"

I hesitated, weighing my options. Introducing her to the right people could be crucial for my plans. "I might be able to arrange an interview with Councilor Elara Windmere. She's been instrumental in shaping Supe-human policies."

"That would be incredible," Tempest said, her excitement palpable. She jotted down the name, then looked up at me, her curiosity evident in her eyes. "So the Omnium handles the official side of things. But what about unofficial channels? In human society, there's always an undercurrent beneath the surface. Is it the same for Supes?"

Her perceptiveness caught me off guard. This was my opening, but I had to tread carefully. I feigned hesitation, then leaned in slightly, lowering my voice. "There are... less savory elements," I admitted reluctantly. "Parts of our world that often go overlooked."

Tempest leaned forward, her interest clearly piqued. "What kind of elements?"

I paused, as if considering whether to continue. "Well, just like in human society, there are those who operate outside the law. Underground networks, illegal activities... that sort of thing."

"That sounds dangerous," Tempest said, her voice a mix of concern and curiosity. "But also like something that needs to be exposed. Do you think we could include that perspective in the project?"

I pretended to consider it, watching her carefully. "It would be risky. These aren't people who welcome outsiders asking questions."

"But it's important, isn't it?" Tempest pressed. "To show the full picture, not just the polished version?"

I nodded slowly, marveling at how easily she was falling into my plan. "There is one person who might be willing to talk. A former boxer named Garanth Kreel. He works as a bookie now, has connections to the underground scene."

Her eyes widened slightly. "A bookie? That sounds... interesting. And potentially dangerous." She paused, her brow furrowing. "How do you know about him, Kane?"

I had anticipated this question and was ready with a carefully crafted half-truth. "My father," I said, injecting a note of distaste into my voice. "As Lord Protector, he makes it his business to know about all aspects of our world, even the unsavory parts. I've overheard things over the years."

Tempest nodded, her instincts clearly piqued. "Do you think Kreel would talk to me?"

"Possibly," I said, allowing concern to creep into my voice. "But Tempest, this would be dangerous. Kreel isn't known for his hospitality, and he operates in some of the roughest parts of town."

She straightened in her chair, a determined glint in her eye. "I've dealt with difficulties before, Kane. This is important work."

As I opened my mouth to respond, I felt a sudden, unexpected surge of my magic. It rippled through me, hot and insistent, as if in protest. The intensity of it caught me off guard, and I had to take a moment to steady myself.

"This is different," I finally managed, my tone more serious than I'd intended. "These people... they wouldn't hesitate to hurt you if they felt threatened."

The words left a bitter taste in my mouth, and my magic pulsed again, stronger this time. It was as if my very essence was rebelling against the idea of Tempest in danger. I realized, with a jolt of surprise, that despite my plans to use her, I genuinely didn't want her to be hurt.

I swallowed hard, trying to regain my composure. "And I couldn't go with you or protect you."

Tempest's brow furrowed, oblivious to my internal struggle. "Why not?"

The concern in her voice only made my magic react more strongly. I clenched my fists under the table, fighting for control. This unexpected protective instinct was complicating things, but I couldn't let it derail my plans. I had to push forward, even as a part of me screamed to keep her safe.

I ran a hand through my hair. "My family name... being an Ellesar... it's like a red flag to people like Kreel. If I showed up with you, or if they even suspected you were associated with me, it would put you in even more danger. The Ellesars aren't exactly popular in those circles."

Understanding dawned on her face, followed quickly by a flash of apprehension. But then her jaw set in determination. "I see. So I'd have to do this alone."

The word 'alone' sent another jolt through me, my fae instincts screaming in protest. Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "Not entirely alone. We need a safety plan for you."

Tempest's eyebrows rose in surprise. "A safety plan?"

I nodded, my mind racing. My magic hummed, urging me to protect her, even as I struggled to balance this unexpected instinct with my original plan.

"Yes," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "Something to ensure your security. I'm not sure exactly what it would look like yet, but we can't send you in there without some kind of precautions in place."

Tempest considered this, looking both touched and slightly amused. "That's... thoughtful of you, Kane. I appreciate the concern."

I ran a hand through my hair, thinking hard. "We'll need to work out the details before you even think about approaching Kreel. This isn't something to rush into."

"Agreed," Tempest nodded, her expression serious. "I'm all for thorough preparation. Any ideas on where we should start?"

As we began to discuss potential safety measures in vague terms, I felt my magic gradually calm. I was still putting Tempest in danger, still using her for my own ends, but at least I was doing something to protect her too.

It wasn't enough to quell my guilt entirely, but it was a start. And as I watched Tempest jot down notes about our future safety planning, her face set in determination, I realized that keeping her safe had become just as important to me as my original mission.

The question now was, how could I balance both?

"We should meet regularly to coordinate our efforts and share findings," I found myself saying, the words tumbling out before I'd fully thought them through. "Perhaps twice a week?"

Tempest's eyes lit up, her pen poised over her notebook. "Absolutely. How about Tuesdays and Thursdays? We could use my office or the library study rooms."

"Perfect," I agreed, mentally rearranging my schedule. The frequent meetings would help me keep tabs on her progress and adjust my plans as needed. "And Tempest, about Kreel..." I hesitated, my protective instincts flaring again. "Take your time researching him. Don't rush into anything."

She nodded, determination etched on her face. "I'll be careful, Kane. I'll gather as much information as I can before I even think about approaching him."

For a moment, doubt crept in. Was I putting Tess in danger unnecessarily?

I thought of Mason, of the scars he tried to hide, of the haunted look in his eyes the morning after a bad nightmare. The underground fighting ring had to be stopped, not just for his sake, but for all the others trapped in its grip.

No, I decided.

The risk was high, but the potential reward was higher. I had come too far to turn back now. Whatever complications arose, I would adapt. I would use them to my advantage.

This wasn't just about me anymore. And if using Tess was the key, then so be it.