Chapter 27 #2
Falcen fills the threshold, his uniform pristine save for the rolled-up sleeves of his black tunic. His gaze sweeps from my disheveled hair to exposed legs, and lingers just long enough to reignite phantom pressure between them, before landing on my open palm.
I fist my hand, covering the reddened, angry veins.
His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t demand a closer look. Instead, he turns his attention to Callie.
“Calliope.” Falcen speaks her name through stiff lips. “What are you still doing here?”
Callie straightens, meeting his glare with a defiant lift of her chin. “Helping Verily recover. As you asked me to.”
Falcen stalks into the room, letting the door shut behind him. “I asked you to provide a relief potion and be on your way. Not to linger and gossip.”
I bristle at his tone. “We weren’t gossiping and braiding each other’s hair.”
“Don’t you have a class to attend?” Falcen asks Callie, not even sparing me a glance. “You only just got your privileges back. Wouldn’t want you to have them taken again so quickly.”
Callie’s lips thin, but gives a single nod. “Of course, Resonant. My apologies for overstepping.”
My attention bounces between them. For siblings, they’re awfully good at pretending the other is a stranger.
Callie acknowledges Falcen once more with a formal dip of her chin, then heads for the door. Before she leaves, she glances over her shoulder at me, her eyes filled with worry and a silent warning. Don’t let him see.
She shuts the door behind her, the sound resonating through my teeth and setting my nerves on edge.
I’ve never worried about being alone with Falcen. Until now.
You’re not alone.
I clear my throat, covering my flinch at the ember’s reappearance.
Although her voice, if you want to call it that, is quieter, sounding farther away than when I was in the archives and fighting her.
Like a campfire on the horizon rather than a raging inferno threatening to consume me from within.
She’s stirring, a drowsy flicker of consciousness, but doesn’t push forward with her usual animation.
It’s as if the events in the archives drained her, too, leaving us both empty and exhausted.
The ache in my hand has dulled to a soft throb, and I flex my fingers experimentally, watching the crimson veins surface and recede beneath my skin.
Falcen mistakes my pursed expression for one of pain. He crosses the room with quick strides, coming to a halt beside the bed. He’s imposing even when concern softens the hard planes of his face.
“Let me see your hand.”
I hesitate, recalling Callie’s warning, but Falcen is not a man to be denied. Slowly, I uncurl my fingers and extend my palm toward him.
He takes in the web of tangled veins just under my skin. With a gentleness that catches me off guard, Falcen cradles my hand in his larger ones, his calloused fingers tracing the inflamed pathways with a feather-light touch. I bite my lip at the contact, and I pray to the gods he doesn’t notice.
“Does it still hurt?” he asks.
In the soft dawn, his blue eyes take on an almost otherworldly hue, the golden ring around his pupils glinting like captured starlight.
“Not as much as before. Callie’s potion helped.”
Falcen hums, a noncommittal sound that could mean anything. He continues his examination, his thumb grazing over my pulse point, making it jump and flutter beneath his touch.
It’s such a simple contact, but I’m acutely aware of our proximity in the same way I was when he was ravishing me earlier. The shape of his body, the clean, sharp scent of his skin, the way his dark hair fell across his brow as he licked me.
“Falcen…”
His name falls from my lips before I can stop it, a touch above a whisper.
Falcen stills. Then his voice threads through the quiet. “Yes?”
I swallow hard. There are so many paths I could take in our conversation. My soul-weapon. What we did in the archives. How we feel about each other. His relationship with Callie. Veilrot.
“Why did you bring me here? To your quarters?”
The question tumbles out, my words piling on top of each other because I’m a nervous, cowardly wreck.
Falcen releases my hand slowly, as if reluctant to break the contact.
He doesn’t answer immediately. Falcen draws back, heading toward the window where Lux’s sun spills across the floor like a golden river. He stands there, back tense, hands folded behind him.
At last, he glances over his shoulder. His eyes hold me captive. “I’m trying to protect you.”
“Why?”
I’ve come here incredibly inexperienced, but I’m not so innocent that I believe Falcen needs to see my Veilrot twice for him to do something about it.
It’s wishful thinking on Callie’s part, and she probably said it in an effort to bolster my spirits and give me reason to think I have a chance.
But this is Falcen. He notices everything.
When he doesn’t answer, I prompt, “Resonant Reaves.”
The use of his formal name draws his brows in.
“You’re the Elite that took me across the continent, fought with me, slept beside me, and deposited me here with barely a scratch, save for the ones caused by my own mishaps, which I’ll admit to.
You even saved me from drowning. Elites don’t waste their time on initiates. Why do you keep protecting me?”
Falcen turns from the window, his silhouette framed against the light. The tendons in his forearms flex as he crosses them defensively.
“You’re not just any initiate. You know that.”
“That doesn’t explain why you, specifically, are so invested in my survival.”
Falcen’s lips press into a line. He looks away. “It’s complicated.”
“Then uncomplicate it for me.” I rise from the bed. The fur blanket pools at my feet as I stand, leaving me feeling exposed in more ways than one. “You owe me that much.”
His eyes snap back to mine. “I don’t owe you anything. I’m your superior, your handler. It’s my duty to ensure your safety and training.”
“That’s a load of behemoth shit, and you know it. You left the academy without permission. And when you came back with me as your prize in your arms, they accepted you without killing you on the spot for your desertion.”
Falcen’s nostrils flare, and his upper lip lifts in the beginnings of a snarl.
I ignore it. “I’ve been paying attention. I’m not as ignorant as you think. The academy doesn’t need me. They fear me. They want to control me, to use me for some malevolent purpose. Just like they used Callie.”
Falcen’s expression ignites with a dangerous light. In two strides, he’s standing over me.
“It is not that simple.” He lowers his head to come nose-to-nose. “There are forces at play here that you cannot even begin to comprehend.”
“Like what? Veilrot?” I lift my chin, my nose brushing against his. “Too late. I’m well aware it’s dangerous and not supposed to occur on a first summoning. But you saw it, didn’t you? When my halberd manifested.”
Falcen grunts in acknowledgment.
“Yet you brought me here, to your private quarters, instead of back to the catacombs or throwing me at the Master Keeper’s feet.”
Falcen’s hard stare doesn’t stray from mine. His fingers dig into his palms like he’s suppressing the urge to throttle me.
I let my arms dangle at my sides, allowing him the option to pull me against him or push me away.
“I brought you here because I had to make a choice,” he says in a quiet voice.
“What choice, Falcen?”
His focus flicks to my lips, lingering there for a moment before dragging back up to meet my gaze.
“To go against my instincts. Every fiber of my being screams at me to shield you, to keep you safe from those who would use you for their own gain. Even if it means betraying every vow I’ve ever sworn.”
I search his face, trying to unravel the tangle of emotions I notice there before he remembers to slam his walls down.
Duty, guilt, conflict ... and a type of want that makes my blood fizz.
“Yet you still won’t answer my question. Why risk everything for me?”
Falcen’s hand comes up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip and igniting sparks beneath my skin. His eyes are rich, vibrant pools that I have to convince myself not to drown in.
“You want to know why I’m risking everything for you? Why I’m going against the very institution I’ve dedicated my life to?”
I nod, my throat thick. If Falcen admits he has feelings for me, that he cares, I won’t be able to hold back.
The force of his presence has always affected me, but now we’re treading too deep underwater, and I don’t know how to swim.
I want him. Badly. But worse, I care about him too much. I have feelings for this man.
He lowers his head, his breath ghosting over my lips, and I close my eyes, bracing for the inevitable fall.
“You brought your cat back to life.”
My eyes fly open. I frown.
Huh?
Falcen steps back at the same time I do.
“I don’t understand,” I say.
He turns away, completing the severance of our connection.
“I spotted you long before you were cornered by a Void hound in Belgrave’s forest. You were in the meadow, on your knees, sobbing.
Digging a small grave with an animal’s carcass by your side.
But the fur was clean. It ruffled in the wind like a cotton plant.
You cared for this creature. You were crying over a dead animal in a poor village, and instead of eating it, you were burying the meat.
It made no fucking sense to me. We don’t have pets here.
The best comparison I can think of are horses, but we don’t care about them. We use them.”