Chapter 21
My world had become a colorful medley of pain.
My muscles groaned every step I took, my joints cracking like they’d never been used before.
My feet felt swollen to three times their size, stuffed into my boots.
I was always hungry. But the anxiety of feeling less like an Azure and more like Silver—while knowing I was rejected by both—grew more intense every day and always seemed to ruin my appetite.
Blake and Jace were summoned by the king almost every day, though nothing else seemed out of the ordinary, so I tried not to think too much about it, lest I assume they were reporting on my abysmal performance as a Tyger Warrior thus far. I sighed.
I missed my home. My routine. Even the dingy segregated tavern. I missed dancing and dinners at the low table and the smell of incense or healing tonic ingredients on the stove.
Above all, I missed Edith.
We hadn’t spoken in nearly a week, not since our argument over the Culling, over the boon and my wish to get my memories back.
Calla, who had a habit of sneaking in and out of the kitchen every morning for breakfast and snacks—especially on days with sweets—was growing to be one of my closer friends and allies. She seemed to make friends everywhere.
She told me Edith had been offered a position at the palace with the royal healers.
There was a bittersweet punch to that knowledge.
I was glad to know Edith had a place here and that she wasn’t spending her time worrying I’d turn up dead.
But there was guilt and fear too, because I suspected the position was a way for them to keep me in check by forcing her to stay here.
They knew I’d never step out of line with Edith at stake.
Not that she had anywhere else to go.
Axefire’s warriors had made sure of that.
Stepping into the dining hall after a grueling practice, I slowly moved toward the Azure table, legs quivering. Calla stepped up beside me with her tray, slanting an eyebrow at my stiffness.
I decided I actually didn’t want to eat another meal in this tense dining hall.
“Do you want to come with me?” I asked, glancing at the door.
“For what?” Then she smiled and shook her head. “You know what? Yes. If it gets me away from the oaf for the time being, yes.”
By the oaf, I knew she meant Quinn. They’d been sparring partners the last few days, and they had a hot competition on.
With her personality, I’d thought she’d shift into something fast and light like a peregrine falcon.
I’d barely been able to breathe when I watched them spar, first as humans.
Fists met palms, elbows blocked strikes, their speed nearly impossible to track.
Then, just as Calla aimed a punch for his ribs, Quinn moved, not backward, not to the side, but straight toward her.
And in the blink of an eye, he shifted. One moment, he was a man. The next, he was a massive tan wolf, launching at her with bared teeth.
I barely had time to inhale.
Because before Quinn’s attack could land, Calla’s form rippled, twisting, growing.
Where she had stood, an enormous bear reared up on its hind legs, thick fur rippling over muscle as she batted him away with a swipe of her claws.
So, not a falcon. If only I had power and magic like that.
The last I’d heard, they were more or less tied.
Though Quinn had tried to brag to me about his wins.
Once in the quiet hallway, I led Calla down the halls, humming beneath my breath. I let the melody of the low song’s notes pull my feet where I felt I must go.
Only to arrive at a large wooden door. In my heart, I knew whose rooms these were. I knocked as Calla settled behind me.
“Who is it?” a familiar voice called.
“Your favorite person.”
The door pulled open to reveal Edith standing there with a warm smile spread across her lips. I inspected her as she invited us in over the threshold. She looked tired but relaxed. Not like she’d worked herself to the bone, or worse. There was an entire spread of food behind her.
Something in me settled then, a weight I didn’t realize I’d been carrying.
“Rubi,” she breathed. “And a friend?”
“Calla,” we both said at the same time.
“Come. Sit, eat. Tell me all about your training.”
It was an apology in its own way. Or maybe more of an acceptance. I sank further into the comfort of being with her again. My body finally relaxed, my muscles nearly giving out as I lay across one of the velvet, plush lounges.
We began eating. Edith made us both tea, while Calla told her of the Azures. I sat quietly, listening and drifting off.
A pounding at the door made us jump. Edith opened it to Quinn, making Calla groan and toss her head back where she sat on a mound of pillows on the floor.
“You come here often?” I asked.
“Figured out where you guys had gone,” he answered. “And I was hoping for some free food, ribbon girl.”
“You are like a barnacle on my side,” Calla snipped as Quinn sheepishly scooted into the room, dropping a kiss on Edith’s cheek as she tapped his face lovingly.
“How lucky for you,” he said, patting the top of Calla’s head as he made his way over to sit on my chair. “Scoot.” I made room for him easily, smiling at the little group.
It was much better than the anxiety-inducing divided dining hall. The smarmy jokes about Azures whispered beneath Silvers’ breath. The snippy remarks about me from both sides that made my skin heat and Flame’s threats rumble to life in my head.
“It’s almost your second zodiac year, Rubi,” Edith said, her eyes soft.
I’d be turning twenty-four soon. They said each zodiac animal shaped our nature and magic—tiger for ferocity, ox for steadiness, snake for cunning.
Our magic first awakened when the cycle completed at twelve years, our first Zodiac, and matured when it came full circle again with our second Zodiac.
It was now the Year of the Dragon, my birth year.
“Ooooooh, I didn’t know you were a Dragon,” Calla said, wriggling her fingers at me. “Your magic’s going to fully awaken.”
I snorted. “I wish. Obviously, nothing much happened at my first zodiac year, so I wouldn’t hold my breath.”
“You never know,” Edith told me gently. “Your past may be your starting point, but your choices now define who you are.”
There was more quiet conversation, small laughs and jovial little anecdotes. Calla told stories of her meddling sisters. Quinn regaled us with tales of his father. Edith shared old folktales like bedtime stories, treating us like children and not warriors preparing for battle.
It was enough peace to allow my eyelids to slip shut.
—
“Rubi?”
I woke to the gentle rocking of my shoulder, of Quinn’s hand on my arm as he pulled me from my dreamy liquid sleep state. I smiled, blinking up at him.
“Hey,” he whispered. It felt warm and familiar, like we were at home and he’d stayed over all night to keep refilling our fireplace when the winds were bad enough. “Edith’s asleep. So is Calla—I’ll let her stay. Do you want to sleep here or go to your room?”
“I should go,” I mumbled, still half asleep, before stumbling to stand.
Quinn kept an arm around my shoulders, chuckling as we staggered into the hallway and toward my room.
“You don’t have to walk me all the way there.”
Quinn smirked. “I know. I’m headed somewhere else.”
“How do you have the energy to make conquests during training?” I exclaimed, shoving him with my shoulder. “With who? Or are you hoping you’ll find someone worthy of Pairing to get an edge in training?” I teased as he stopped and faced me.
“I don’t kiss and tell.” Quinn smiled. “As you well know.”
Pairing was an intimate act between magic users, and it often strengthened and connected their magic.
It could be done by any two people with the right intention.
For many, it was tied to love and sex. Because apparently it felt like something otherworldly if you Paired during the act, but un-Pairing was more complicated, although I didn’t know the details.
There was Soul Pairing, too. That was truly a once-in-a-lifetime, until-death kind of thing.
It even changed the color of your Marks to red.
Soul Pairing allowed the couple to actually share their magic with each other, not to mention giving them a huge power boost. But if one of them died, so would the other.
I didn’t know. I’d never even Paired before.
Quinn had awkwardly tried to explain it to me once, when we’d been intimate a year or so ago. But we’d never Paired. I thought it was pointless. I had so little magic, and Quinn and I had never been serious about each other.
Quinn waggled his eyebrows at me now, and I couldn’t help giggling. “You are unbelievable.”
His smile only grew then, and he shrugged, all boyish, handsome charm. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me beside him as he started walking again.
“Quinn!”
“C’mon, ribbon girl. If you want to Pair with me so desperately, you—”
Quinn cut off abruptly, straightening, though he kept his grip on me. My eyes opened, suddenly wide awake at the buzzing beneath my veins that meant only one person was standing in front of my door.
Blake Axefire’s arms were crossed like a guard’s, his eyes burning as they took in my leaning on Quinn, his arm around my waist.
“Where have you been?” His voice was filled with concern. My brow furrowed.
“What?”
“Are you drunk?” Blake asked, his voice shifting darker. I straightened, pushing off from where I was nearly resting in Quinn’s arms.
“No,” I snipped. “Are you?”
“I swear to the gods, Morningtail—”
“Rubi didn’t do anything,” Quinn stepped in, eyebrows furrowed. “Sorry, we were just—”
“You’re dismissed, Azure.” Blake’s gaze didn’t shift even slightly away from me.
“But—”
“Now,” he snapped, something fiercer in his eyes.
“I guess I should go, too, considering I’m an Azure,” I retorted, grabbing Quinn’s arm in mine, though my friend immediately tried to get out of my hold.
Blake looked furious. “You are the tygress’s chosen rider. You’re a gods-damned Silver until I say otherwise, a Tyger Warrior and under my jurisdiction.” His gaze finally turned from mine to look at Quinn. “Leave. Now.”
Quinn started to say something, but seemed to think better of it.
He looked at me, and I wanted to tell him not to go, but instead, I gave him a reassuring nod.
I didn’t want to cause trouble for Quinn.
He turned and started down the hallway, jaw clenched in obvious frustration but with no words of dissent.
Damn the Ambush Master, ruining one of the few moments of normalcy I’d had since entering this palace.
“What is your problem?” I snarled. “We had dinner with Edith in her room. You’re acting like we committed a crime.”
“You weren’t in the great hall,” he said, jaw tight, the words pushing through clenched teeth.
I rolled my eyes, stepping toward my door. His hand shot out and grasped my wrist.
“And?” I said, pulling at his grip. “I’m not a child. You might be in charge of my training, but I don’t follow your orders outside of the training fields.”
“You and your Azures don’t know the first thing about following orders. Meals are to be taken in the great hall.” Every word from his mouth was half strangled, like he was repeating a script.
“What is this really about?” I asked. “You can’t be mad about dinner.”
I stepped closer, pushing his massive unmovable body aside with my shoulder, surprised that it wasn’t metal armor I met but the soft padding underneath. Like he’d been half dressed and decided to come here?
He froze then, at my closeness or something else, I didn’t know, before his eyes darted to where he still held my wrist in his grasp. A twinge of color rose to his cheeks, and he pulled back, letting my hand drop.
“Good night, Axefire.” I shook my head, waiting until he moved away from my doorway before entering.
“Don’t disappear again.”
I slammed the heavy wooden door in his face.