Chapter 11 #3
His eyes are unique. Warm brown, the color of dark honey, but rimmed with black. He’s staring at me derisively in a way that feels like it’s licking its way up my spine, tasting me and finding me wholly unsatisfying.
It’s not at all comfortable.
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you it was rude to stare?” I ask, forcing myself to hold his gaze.
I swear his lip twitches, but it’s gone so fast I could have imagined it.
“Didn’t your mother teach you the same?” he answers back without missing a beat.
I wasn’t as hidden as I thought while watching them.
Well, that’s slightly embarrassing.
“Leave her out of this. She isn’t one of your pawns to be used and discarded,” Ambrose declares, moving to stand in front of me, blocking me completely from Kingston’s view.
That’s rich coming from him.
I step around his bigger frame, moving back to his side. He doesn’t get to use the overprotective best friend card right now. Not when I’m still pissed off at him.
Kingston’s lips pull into a half smile that borders on a sneer as his cold eyes slide over my body and back to my face. “She’s not my type.”
A sharp chuckle slips free from my lips.
This motherfucker.
Not that I care if I’m his type or not, but rude much?
“Well, now that we’ve established that much, we’ll be on our way,” I insist, grabbing Ambrose’s hand and weaving through the armored men, careful not to touch any as I pass.
They make no move to step aside.
Ambrose allows me to pull him along, more than likely only because he knows I’m angry with him. The last thing he wants to do right now is add to the shit list he’s already on.
I don’t turn around to confirm it, but I swear I can feel the asshole Noctryn’s eyes on my back as we work our way through his men.
Pain radiates along my jawbone from clenching my teeth so hard.
It’s because I’m pissed off at the beautiful man next to me and not because the asshole behind me just insulted me and made me feel weird in my own skin all at the same time.
He’s not my type either. Everything I want is next to me, even if I haven’t exactly told him that yet.
“I take it you two aren’t particularly close,” I say, stating the obvious.
We walk side by side down the main hall, turning corners and weaving through the endless passageways.
“Caught on to that, did you?” he replies coyly. His hands rest in the pockets of his trousers.
I’m not particularly a betting person, but if I were, I’d say it’s to prevent himself from trying to touch me again. We typically never stay mad at each other for very long, but he knows I’m hurt. Regardless of whether he’s adamant that it couldn’t be helped.
“Kind of hard to miss with all the testosterone being thrown around,” I acknowledge with a slight eye roll.
“There’s certainly no love lost between us.”
“Why do you hate him?”
“I don’t hate him. I despise him. Slightly different.”
“Okay,” I reply, “so what’s the backstory. Why all the animosity?” I need the tea like I need my next breath. It’s been so long since Ambrose and I have exchanged juicy gossip like two old women with nothing better to do.
I’ve missed this. The least he can do is give me this.
He pulls both hands out of his pockets, using one to open a large wooden door to the right of us, and the other to gesture me through. The moment I enter, all my questions evaporate into thin air.
Books.
So. Many. Books.
I inhale deeply, the smell feeling like being welcomed home by an old friend. There’s just something about the smell of books that is so comforting. The ink, parchment, and bindings all come together to create a blend of familiarity.
Thousands of books must fill the surrounding shelves from the floor to the top of the cathedral ceilings.
They seem endless in their grandeur, and the massive stained glass window on the far wall only adds to the majestic feel of this place.
I bet if Kintoira ever sees even the tiniest sliver of sunshine, colors would splash across every surface in here, making it look like somewhere in a fantasy.
My pulse speeds up, and my hands itch to start grabbing everything in my vicinity.
Six wooden tables, each with eight chairs, are placed on either side of the main walkway, with smaller tables scattered throughout the multitude of bookshelves.
I’ve never seen this many books in one place before.
There are sections on history, battle tactics, healing remedies and antidotes, all the way to folklore and popular fables.
It’s endless.
It’s beautiful.
This is the first room that I’ve been in since arriving that feels warm within this cold fortress. Small lamps with bulbs lit by fire magic sit atop the various tables, and warm-colored rugs line the floors.
I spin around.
I never want to leave this room.
“If I tell you, will you please forgive me?” he asks in a solemn tone.
“Tell me what?” I reply absent-mindedly.
I run my finger down the spine of a particularly worn-looking book, the spine slightly bent and the hardcover peeling back.
The Many Ways to Use Wolfsbane is faded but still legible.
Either a lot of people want to poison someone, or the healers favor this toxic plant for traditional medicine. It could honestly go either way.
His deep baritone laughter brings me out of my macabre thoughts. “I see you like the library. I thought you might.” A grin spreads across his face.
It’s unfair how beautiful this man is on any given day, but when he smiles? It’s so easy to forget why I’m upset with him. Even the beauty of this library has nothing on him.
Sharp blue eyes watch me as I push the book back onto the shelf. His hair hangs loosely to his shoulders today, the thick waves pushed back from his face, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw.
I pull my gaze away.
We walk through a narrow aisle, taking a seat at the back of the library, being sure to keep our voices to a whisper.
“I’ll tell you the backstory if you say you’ll forgive me for letting you down. I promise, where I had to be couldn’t be avoided.”
“Ambrose, I’m upset. But that’s something I need time to work through. I can’t stuff my feelings in a little box and make them go away to suit you.”
“Is there anything I can do to speed up the process?” he asks, his voice soft and low, but with a slight humorous tone.
“Where were you last night that was so important you couldn’t be there for me?”
He shakes his head. “Anything but that.”
I push my chair back from the table. “Back to square one. Secrets. Since when did we start keeping secrets from each other?”
“Since I have to,” he says without an ounce of regret.
“I can’t tell you what you want to know about last night, but I can answer your first question.
Kingston and I have bad blood because of who he is.
What he stands for—” he presses his lips together, waiting for the small, frail-looking woman with an arm full of books to pass. She must be the librarian.
As soon as she passes, he continues, his beautiful blue eyes taking on a hardened edge.
“—Kingston doesn’t just practice dark magic.
He is dark magic. Dark to the core and makes no apologies for it.
He’s one of the most talented in the academy at mind control.
” His lip curls in distaste. “Only a select few Noctryns can perform that level of dark magic. He will wedge himself into your thoughts, taking what he wants and leaving whatever he desires. And when he’s done, if he doesn’t eliminate you, he’ll make you want to terminate yourself. ”
I don’t say anything. I just listen.
His lips lift in a sneer, causing his straight white teeth to stand out against his tan skin.
“As you know, we as Veils use the gifts we were bestowed upon at birth, our rightful abilities. They’re different,” he adds.
“The Noctryns sacrifice their natural-born powers to wield darkness, both figuratively and literally. He’s the worst of his kind here at Kintoira. ”
He sounds dangerous. Interesting—I’ll give him that—but dangerous.
It’s entirely up to us where we fall on the spectrum of good versus evil. Light versus dark. The academy assigns us to a regiment, but we play a big part in it all. How we test during the Asylamation will tell the academy exactly what they need to know. At least that’s what they feed us.
Do we stay to the light and use our core powers to defend and fight for the realm, or do we sacrifice those for the dark powers of wielding shadows, mind control, and blood magic? They’re both valuable and dangerous in their own right.
One is just naturally born, and the other is, in a way, stolen.
I steeple my hands on the table, staring intently at Ambrose. I raise both of my eyebrows at him, knowing there’s more.
“Has anyone ever told you you’re like a dog with a bone?” His words say one thing, but his eyes say something else. He’s looking at me like he’s impressed, not annoyed. “You don’t give up.”
“Don’t evade, Mr. Ballard.”
Sighing, he leans back in his chair and folds his arms across his chest. “Last year, when a certain object went missing—’’
“A dark object?”
“And a professor—’’
“A professor went missing?”
“The Noctryn leadership was tasked with finding out who took both. All of the first-year Veils were interrogated. I was lucky enough to be interrogated by Kingston,” he says sarcastically, rocking back in his chair.
He has my full attention. I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table.
“It wasn’t pleasant to say the least, and I was introduced up close and personal to his interrogation skills. For a first-year, he was proficient. I’ll give him that.” He chuckles darkly.
A first-year? That can’t be right.
“I thought he was a major. How was he a first-year last year?”
Ambrose dips his chin in acknowledgment.
“He is a major. He’s also a second-year now.
He skipped the captain rank entirely because he excelled at the dark arts on a level that hasn’t been seen in a long time.
” He uncrosses his arms, leaning onto the table to look me dead in the eye.
“As a first-year, I had absolutely no training on how to block someone from entering my thoughts. He saw things I’m not particularly proud of and wouldn’t willingly share with anyone.
Let alone him,” he states. “It was violating, and he hasn’t let me forget the things he discovered since. ”
That sounds an awful lot like being assaulted. “Did you know something about the disappearances?”
“No. But I knew enough about other things to give him leverage over me that he keeps tucked away in his back pocket.”
I rest my face in my hands as I stare at him. I know him like the back of my hand. I also know he’s not being entirely honest. He’s being evasive and giving me partial truths, but I’ll let him have it.
This time.
“Thanks for sharing this information with me. I’m still pissed you’re keeping other secrets, but thank you for trusting me with this much.” I extend an arm out, holding up the pinky on my right hand as a symbol of a temporary truce.
His eyes roam over my face. “Some secrets have to be kept. To protect those who don’t know they need it.” He wraps his larger pinky around my smaller one.
Upperclassmen slowly trickle in, but I haven’t seen any other first-years yet.
The dark skies outside are beginning to lighten. Slivers of light beam through the windowpanes, meaning the sun has risen and we’re seeing the most of it we’re going to.
The trial results will be posted soon. They get posted before the start of the first period.
We’ll get our schedule later in the day. Around this time tomorrow, I’ll be getting ready for my first class! Excitement bubbles in my chest. This is really happening.
Ambrose’s strong hands wrap around mine, our pinkies still interlocked.
His calloused palms rub against my softer ones.
I’ve always loved his hands. The way they’re so much bigger than mine, the veins that pop out on the back, and the hardened calluses from weaponry training.
This man has seriously caused me to develop a hand fetish.
I envision those very same hands wrapped around my throat as he pins me to the nearest wall, finally devouring me in all the devious ways I’ve imagined. It would be rough, unapologetic, and years in the making.
I run my tongue along my upper lip, as my mouth suddenly feels very dry.
His icy-blue eyes follow the movement, falling to my lips.
A loud announcement over the speakers breaks the moment.
Results are being posted in the halls.
“You ready for this?” he asks, clearing his throat and pulling his hands away.
An emptiness settles over me.
Not at all.