Chapter 26
CHAPTER
26
Nori had been an absolute Godssend. I couldn’t remember the last time I had slept so well. I awoke feeling renewed in every way. Although one good night’s rest wouldn’t eliminate the dark circles around my eyes or put back on the weight I’d lost, it was the first step.
Breathing felt easier; the unbearable weight of anxiety from nightmares or sleeplessness had finally receded, if only momentarily. I don’t know why I hadn’t asked her before now. I suppose I’d felt awful asking her to use such a rare gift on something like this, or maybe I had been just too embarrassed to admit I needed help. Either way, I was indebted to her—though she would say we were even.
That morning at breakfast, I was surprised to discover Gia sporting copper-colored hair and blue eyes. Nothing compared to Varro’s eyes, but they were different, nonetheless. She told me she was practicing her shapeshifting endurance.
She intended to spend the whole day with this new look—or as long as she could without exhausting herself, at least. This was proof that no matter what Gia did she was always going to look stunning. But even I knew what she was doing was a mere shade of what Saryn expected of her.
I’d seen brief glimpses of it in class. She’d fully transfigured her body and face into an entirely new form. It was slightly less scary than when the Vespers did it. At least I had the relief of knowing I trusted Gia. No matter how she shifted, there was someone I knew behind that stranger’s gaze.
Gia was very convincing, but only for short periods. That was why she had practiced extending her abilities in small increments over time. She’d never be able to keep up the charade while fighting, being tortured, or “fucking,” as Saryn said. Initially, it was alarming to hear Saryn talk about our bodies and intimacy like it was some weapon at our disposal, but the more he spoke like that, the more numb we became to it.
Over time, there were fewer awkward glances amongst one another each time he’d make some crass remark about these “tactics.” That morning, Saryn had plans for us. Plans none of us could have prepared for.
“Today’s lesson is going to take creativity, the ability to read someone, emotional intelligence, and above all else, confidence.”
We all listened intently, some of us with arms crossed or hands fidgeting to hide our nerves. Unlike Theory’s predictable classes, Saryn’s classroom was something entirely different.
“Since most of you lack confidence and let your conscience dominate your decisions, we’ll start with something easy, but that’s only because I’m feeling kind today. I will not feel kind tomorrow.”
I rolled my eyes, hoping he didn’t notice.
“Manipulation comes in many forms. You must master this. Seduction, deception, and persuasion are delicate art forms, and if you do this well, you can control all who cross your path. Wield weakness to your benefit, tap into their deepest unspoken desires, and use it against them. An unaware enemy cannot see the knife at their back or in their beds.”
Saryn had such a way with words. Making the maniacal and questionable sound noble and important. The only person better at it than him was Idris, whom we hadn’t seen since our arrival.
I heard Nori let out a small gasp next to me, knowing this was extremely uncomfortable territory for her given how chaste she was. I had my own concerns, and they were brewing above me like a dark storm cloud waiting to downpour.
“For this exercise, you will be paired up with each other and let down your shields, allowing your partner to easily access your mind. You will then manipulate them by using your mind to paint a vision or an illusion. This is not the same thing as accidentally or passively letting your enemy read you. This is using someone’s mind reading against them. At the end of the exercise, I will ask you to repeat aloud what your partner showed you, and we’ll see who amongst you has a knack for this.”
Anxious dread consumed me. Who was I going to be paired up with? Saryn proceeded to call out our pairings and instructed us to place our chairs directly in front of that person so we were facing one another but not touching.
I felt myself begin to perspire when Trace was instructed to partner with me. When he plopped his chair down in front of mine, I could barely bring myself to look at him. I shook my head in annoyance, knowing the others were likely amused at our pairing. The tension of it spread quickly across the room. To my right sat a red-headed Gia across from Varro, who wasn’t looking in my direction, and next to him was Cairis seated in front of Nori.
Thoughts of my and Trace’s time together began to flood back to the forefront of my mind from the depths of my memory. Memories I had tried to keep locked away once we knew we simply could not be. But I had not let my shields down; there was no possible way he was bearing witness to this bombardment.
I found myself tapping my foot, itching with defiance against this exercise, but I knew there was no escaping it. I had toyed with the idea of practicing some of this with a Vesper given my limited experience, but I settled for torture over pleasure. The regret was not lost on me as I sat stone-faced across from my former lover.
“Ladies will go first. I’ve always found you to be the more creative gender. Drop your shields and let’s see if you’ve got what it takes to bring them to their knees.”
Trace stared ahead, giving me a pained look. I tried to think quickly. I wanted it to be something that showed I knew Trace, but not too well. This should have been easy for us, but for that very same reason, it was all the more difficult.
Suddenly, I remembered the Nightwing feather sitting in the drawer of my dormitory, and it sparked an idea. I closed my eyes and gripped both sides of the armrests, digging my nails into the wood. I dropped my shield, letting him into my mind.
In my thoughts, I showed him a fantasy. I was standing in a barely-there sheer dress lit by nothing but moonslight. A plunging neckline exposed the curves of my breast. The backless piece of fabric draped over me, hiding only the parts of me that mattered in this illusion.
I let out a deep exhale and continued.
In my right hand, I carried one long, rigid black Nightwing feather and I lifted it to my mouth, holding it there gently against my lips like a sweet caress, awaiting a kiss that would not come. I filled the thought with heavy emotions of longing and the pain of missing someone. I began to slowly drag the feather along my neck and down the middle of my chest, tickling the edges of my breasts and causing my nipples to peak in the cool night air.
My breathing grew more ragged as I let my imagination carry me away into this illusion.
The feather continued to roam downward across my body and the thin fabric. I felt my legs clench together, tightening from the ache deep in my belly as I thought of the male with the Nightwing feathers. I pulled the dark fabric to the side, exposing my bare leg and the dip along my hip. I ran the feather along this sensitive area over and over, letting the ticklish feeling send electric surges down my core.
I licked my lips with want, feeling my palms grow sweaty as they gripped the chair. I would not allow myself to open my eyes or become distracted with thoughts of how Trace might be feeling. That was not the assignment.
I moved the feather farther inward and gently glided it across my sex, causing my legs to tremble. When I could take the teasing of the feather no more, I mouthed the word, “Trace.”
I opened my eyes when I realized I hadn’t mouthed the name in my thoughts but had done so out loud, a mere whisper for all to hear. No one reacted, except Saryn who had a fiendish smile on his face. My cheeks were already turning bright red with embarrassment as I looked up to see Trace, wide-eyed and jaw tight. He stretched and flexed his fingers in and out of fists, trying to release the frustrated tension my fantasy and illusions caused him.
I looked down the aisle again to see if anyone else had noticed my awkward mistake. Most of them were concentrating on their assignments, but I swore I saw a flicker of something on Varro’s face before he turned to look back at Gia.
After a few more minutes passed, Saryn walked menacingly behind the males’ chairs, placing himself behind Cairis first.
“What did our sweet and innocent little Nori have to show you, Cairis? Did she please you, or get under your skin?”
The thought of those two doing anything like this made my lips curl in disgust. They were as platonic as it got.
Cairis gritted out his answer with a hint of venom.
“In her illusion, I was a High Lord, head of my household, respected by all of the staff. Servants at my beck and call. She presented herself as a Madame. A collector of beautiful females…fanciful, exotic, submissive, all types. She brought them to me as a gift. They were all for me—”
Cairis was cut off by the sound of Saryn clapping and praising Nori.
“Well, well, dreamweaver, looks like you have quite the knack for reading people. Abundance, power, and respect. You read Cairis like a book. Splendid.”
Nori frowned at Cairis, a pleading look seeking forgiveness for exposing him that way.
Saryn moved on, stepping behind Varro and placing his hands on both his shoulders.
“Gia, dare I say you make a stunning redhead. Golden boy, what did our shifter sweetheart have in store for you?”
Varro’s glance flickered briefly in my direction before returning quickly back toward Gia.
“I was at sea, and in the distance, there was a beach. I could faintly make out the shape of a maiden. Long, dark brown hair, her skin almost pale as snow. A stark contrast to the deep blues of the sea and the warmth of the sandy beach surrounding her. I sailed furiously toward her for what seemed like forever. She called to me like a siren’s song. No matter how far I sailed, I could not reach her. The distance never closed the gap. I could never truly make out her face. She had to have been a mirage, but I could not bring myself to stop sailing toward it.”
“Very interesting,” Saryn commented. “I like it. Longing, a sense of freedom, yet feeling trapped. Wanting something unattainable.”
Gia just smiled at Varro knowingly, but he did not return any reaction.
I’d become horrified with the fact that thus far I was the only one who’d used an overtly sexual illusion. Not manipulation, deception, or persuasion.
The embarrassment warmed my cheeks as I prepared for Trace to oust me in front of everyone. Saryn stepped to the side, standing behind us and waiting for him to unveil what I’d shown him. I took a deep breath, my nostrils flaring in preparation for his words to recount the vision.
“I was shown a female.” He paused before continuing, “She was very beautiful, bathed in moonslight and wearing very little clothing. In her hand, she held a single Nightwing feather. She ran it all along her body, remembering the way her lover had made her feel. When she could take no more of her longing and teasing, she aimed to please herself.”
When he stopped, I took a sigh of relief thinking he’d end it there, but he didn’t. For some reason, he turned to his left—towards the group, or just Varro, I was unsure—and said, “She called for her lover, by his name.”
He didn’t say what the female looked like, but he didn’t have to. It was obvious, and I wanted to crawl into a cave and hide for the next century. I kept my eyes locked on him, unable to turn and face the looks of the others. Surely, they heard me whisper his name earlier, and he’d all but confirmed the rumors at this point.
“Cress, ever the brave one amongst your lot. I have to give you credit, I didn’t think you had it in you to go straight for seduction and to use a Nightwing… The attention to detail in your creativity is impeccable. It’s almost as if you knew exactly what would make Trace feel special.”
The tension in the room turned palpable and I couldn’t bring myself to take Saryn’s words as a compliment.
“And this is why kingdoms have crumbled over queens and courtesans. Males are simple creatures, easy to read. Well done, ladies. Now, let’s keep this going and make things more interesting with a partner swap. I like to keep you on your toes, after all, with fast thinking and less planning. Rely on instinct!”
All of the males stood up while the females remained seated, pushing them each down one partner while Trace made his way back to the other end where Nori sat. Face-to-face with Varro after everything that had just transpired was almost worse torture than I’d experienced with the Vesper.
I gave Varro one last look that begged, Please, go easy on me , before he closed his eyes and I followed suit.
He let down his shields and showed me what he’d created just for me. My lungs began to feel tight and suddenly seized. I could feel my hands still on the chair, but I felt the breathlessness consuming me, everything going cold and dark. Suddenly I gasped out loud for air, breaking myself from a vision that felt terrifyingly real.
Varro opened his eyes and stared at me while I panted in front of him, trying to calm my erratic breathing. Saryn walked toward me, looking thrilled to hear about what Varro had done.
“I’m on pins and needles to hear more about what just transpired between you two.”
I began to recite the illusion Varro had created, still trying to make sense of why it felt real, too real.
“I was on a ship when suddenly I fell into the water. The waves were strong and pulled me under. No matter how hard I tried to swim toward the sunlight, I only sank farther into the darkness of the sea. With each passing second, I lost more breath and I struggled to survive. When I thought I’d almost succumb to drowning, I heard a song of the sea echoing through the water from a distance. My body felt heavy, but there was no strength to fight the sinking. Suddenly, I felt someone or something press its lips to mine, giving me air, a breath of life, and then I awoke here.”
Saryn turned his head, lifting a brow at Varro.
“No one said we couldn’t add a little extra to make the illusion feel real,” he replied nonchalantly, disregarding Saryn’s accusatory look.
My eyes widened in fury.
“How dare you make me feel like I was drowning!”
Varro raised his hands in the air as if feigning innocence. “I thought you were one for torture…”
Before I could lunge at him, Saryn had already placed his hand in front of my chest to stop me. With my mental shields down, he had easy access to read every intention before I even made a move.
“I’d say low blow, Varro, but we all know that I’m a huge proponent of ‘all is fair in love and war.’ And we are indeed preparing for war. That being said, not sure what you two have to work out, but I’m going to give you points for creativity and bravery, because as you pointed out, there were no rules to be broken.”
The anger coursing through me was deafening as the others went down the line. I made a concerted effort to listen, but was distracted with thoughts of wanting to rip Varro limb from limb.
Gia was recounting the vision Cairis had crafted for her. A world where she was the most powerful amongst us, having mastered shapeshifting and numerous other abilities. She wreaked havoc as she pleased. She had the power to bend another’s will at leisure. Males were playthings to her, she chewed them up and spit them out without hesitation. Gia smiled the whole time.
I knew Gia liked being the best at everything, but I had never realized how truly power-hungry she was. Perhaps what was most saddening about all of this was that none of them realized why she wanted so badly to exercise control over everything and everyone. No amount of power would repair her broken bond. Instead, she used that power to build a fortress around her broken heart.
Nori was the last to share the vision she had been granted. I had no idea what Trace would have done in this scenario; Trace being a violent person and Nori the opposite.
“When I flew down into the valley the day I decided to leave, no one followed me. No one tried to convince me to stay. I walked along the stream to the valley’s edge, content with my decision to leave at all costs. When I went to cross what I perceived was the threshold, nothing happened. I returned home to my loved ones, only to discover that Ilithyia had blessed my mother and father with a newborn. I finally had a sibling to love. And I never saw or heard from the Order ever again.”
The room was silent, mostly shocked that Trace hadn’t bestowed some horribly violent vision upon her. Saryn looked irritated, and Trace looked indifferent.
“If you think I’m going to applaud you for knowing our escapee desires freedom, then you’d be mistaken,” Saryn chided.
Trace retorted snidely, “You’re a fool. She doesn’t crave freedom. She craves the belief that her Gods don’t allow good and innocent people to suffer, and she can’t reconcile that they do. She desires a world that has never existed and never will. So, I guess you’re both fools.”
However true his words were, I was fuming at him. At least now I took comfort in the fact that Nori knew she had friends here who cared for her; she wouldn’t let Trace or this exercise get to her.
He was being cruel just to be right. These were the sides of Trace that I had never seen before Basdie, that I didn’t know existed. That is why I knew that I was the one who was the real fool.
Ever since Saryn’s exercise, the energy amongst all of us had shifted. People were distant in the flight field, opting to train alone rather than together. After that, people sat apart in the common area, heads down in their books. Just when I had thought we were starting to come together as a team, something like this sent us spinning off center. I knew it was wrong to be grateful that others had crossed lines or hit sensitive spots, too. I welcomed anything that dimmed the spotlight on Trace and myself.
I dragged myself to dinner, knowing that we’d either be sitting in awkward silence for the entire meal or something was about to explode. My instincts told me that everyone was tired. Tired of it all. Tired of being taken, kept here against our will, told nothing but how to train. Who’d have thought a dinner roll would have been the catalyst to that explosion?
As we made our way through the supper line filling our plates, Trace placed the last dinner roll on his and began to step away when we heard Varro mutter, “Fucking black cloaks, always selfish, every one for themselves.”
I knew it was coming even before I heard it. The sound of Trace’s plate slamming on the table behind us as he stepped forward into Varro’s space.
“Yes, I was a black cloak, and if I wanted to kill you, no one would ever know it was me. Your body would never be found, and I’d make sure you’d regret your last moments. Are you willing to die for a dinner roll, Goldie?”
Surprisingly, Varro didn’t flinch at Trace’s words. He seemed mildly amused. I was horrified for him. Trace was not someone to taunt or take lightly.
Varro turned to Trace, placed a spoonful of soup into his mouth, swallowed it intently and replied, “No, I’m watching my figure.”
He then proceeded to step around Trace and take his place at the table disregarding the threat.
The rest of us made our way through the line and took our seats. I went to gulp my water when I found myself suddenly alarmed by the unexpected sweetness. I almost spit the drink out, which would have undoubtedly ruined my meal.
“I took the liberty of transfiguring the water to wine. Seems like a night where everyone could use it. If any of you tell Saryn, I will find you,” Cairis said as the others began to inspect and smell their cups.
Gia raised her hand, lifting her cup to Cairis’. “About time. Cheers!”
Trace followed the brief silence with an encouraging remark, “If you’re taking requests…ale next time. Not wine.”
I wished their banter made the air in the room feel lighter, but it was a minuscule improvement, at best.
We chewed our food and sipped at our wine, lucky that neither Saryn nor Theory had been there to witness any of what had transpired. We could have just kept to ourselves, tried to enjoy the rest of our meal, and gone to the Vespers or bed—but luck was not on my side.
Varro shoved his emptied bowl to the center of the table, leaned back with folded arms, and inquired, “When are we going to get to the bottom of what’s going on with you two?”
He pointed his finger back and forth between Trace and me. Cairis shook his head in disappointment and slumped into his seat with a knowing look. Trace appeared beyond perturbed.
“What, Varro, are you upset that I’ve seen her wings? And I don’t mean on the flight deck…”
I could have strangled Trace for giving them an ounce of confirmation without aligning with me first. The past, our secret, it belonged to both of us, not just him. He didn’t care how I felt. He just wanted to piss off Varro, but he’d done that and more, because now I was livid. I kicked my chair back and rose to a stand, leaning over the table and hoping they could feel the anger pulsing off me.
“You two are pathetic. Who gives a fuck if he was a black cloak? Who gives a shit about the last dinner roll? And most importantly, who cares who I’ve slept with? Our past is as good as dead. Move on and grow up!”
The words spilled out of me without an ounce of regret or hesitation. Nothing about my choice words sounded lady-like, and that was fine by me, because they needed to know I’d had enough of this. Enough of the staring and the whispers. Enough of the unspoken accusations.
“You put us all at risk. How can we trust you? How do we know you both aren’t going to be a liability?” Varro wouldn’t let it go.
I seethed. “The past is in the past. Trust that.”
I stormed out of the room and headed toward my quarters, anxious to put distance between myself and the others. I heard footsteps behind me but did not turn to see who followed.
Before I could slam the door shut behind me, a hand blocked it and Trace stepped through the entryway.
“Why did you do that?” I pleaded, trying to hold back frustrated tears.
“Because even if I cannot have you, you are mine!” he snarled back angrily.
“No, I’m not,” I shouted. “I’m not yours, no more than you were ever mine. We were never each other’s to have.”
The sad truth of that washed over me like a tide. The hurt spread across Trace’s stunning features like an eclipse.
“I’m not the same person as when you met me, and neither are you. Maybe those two people could have been something, but we will never get that back. They’ve taken everything from us. Don’t you see that?”
“‘Like seeing something that’s already gone’…” he trailed off in a whisper, haunting me with my own words.
His hazel eyes began to glisten, betraying his stoic facade. He reached for my hand but I pulled away from his embrace, keeping my arm tight against my side. It was then I knew… We were truly broken.
As he exited my room he turned to say, “If you don’t choose fate, just know that I’d choose you.”
He shut the door behind him, leaving me solitary and wordless. What could he possibly mean by that? Our fates were already chosen.