Chapter 24
Twenty-Four
The scones on the walls light and every single person here is staring at me. Eyes of all kinds of colors and shades pointed right at me. It makes me want to hide. I wish I knew how to shadow twist right about now.
The first pair of eyes I notice are glaring at me.
Dark red, almond shaped eyes across the grounds.
So much suspicion and disgust and hatred.
It’s boiling with his blood moving so evenly through his veins.
His heart beating so steadily. You would think it would be rushing with his emotions, but it’s a calm sort of loathing.
Abomination.
Monstrous.
Cursed.
After everything – the nightmare and pain, then the gentleness from Callahan, and then the peace from the ceremony – it just makes me want to curl in on myself and pretend to not exist.
The spirits of the Willow of Lore had let me sing with them and for the first time since Caleb and his ball imitating the sun, I felt the kind of warmth you can only get from the sun and its rays without burning. Warmth without the burning.
So much warmth and peace and serene and beauty. Music can heal the soul in a way no god or goddess can. Lyrics and melodies and harmonies, they are a type of magic all on their own.
And that feeling of acceptance and home and a soul that is not scarred or fractured or cursed extinguishes.
Like the lights of the spirits going out, plunging the rest of us into darkness.
I don’t know what I was thinking.
I don’t bother looking over to the rest of the celestials. I don’t care to see their hatred or disgust or everything else they feel about me. I should have kept my hands at my side and my mouth shut. I should have stayed pretending to be invisible.
But the spirits had already approached me and it has been so long since I let my control rest and I just wanted. . .
I shake my head and turn away from them. From the tree that now feels no different to any other. Callahan still stands there but I don’t want to look at him either. I don’t want to look at his golden eyes and chance seeing his soul again.
His hand reaches for me, but I side step him and continue through the crowd of people. No one has moved or said a single thing, all their eyes still focused on me. But my own are on the ground and once I’m past those that were in the back I make a run for it.
I hadn’t worn my heeled boots tonight and I’m thanking my past self for it.
For some reason needles prick at my nose and between my eyes as I fly through the corridors and halls.
My arms and legs pumping, I push them harder than I had this morning.
Even though I should I don’t keep a hold on my heartbeat and blood flow.
The organ in my chest thumps at a hazardous pace and my breath feels like razors in my lungs.
Music was always my escape. It was the one thing that fucking sun devil couldn’t take away. A passion and worship and honor. Music can unite and the melodies and lyrics don’t even matter because it’s what you feel. Music is the truest form of magic, and yet he ruined it.
Sneering at me as if I was a disgustful parasite that ruined the ceremony. As if the spirits didn’t accompany me with their song and bow to me afterward.
I round the banister that starts where the path to the dorms are, but I don’t take it and instead keep running.
There’s still too much energy burning within me.
My hold on my aura and magic nonexistent right now and after so long with always keeping it controlled it wants to unleash. It wants to roar.
My vision blurs and I nearly trip and it takes me entirely too long to realize tears are muddling my vision.
WHAT DID I DO TO YOU?
I want to scream. I want to rage.
It’s not fair.
IT’S NOT FAIR.
IT’S NOT FAIR.
AND I KNOW IT NEVER HAS BEEN AND I KNOW IT NEVER WILL BE.
But that’s not fair either.
It’s not. . .
I force my body to stop but my momentum keeps taking me forward. Protecting my head, I curl into my body as my shoulder hits the ground first.
I roll into it to prevent from breaking anything because of the impact, but it won’t help stop the bruises. With the force I’m sure I’ll have scratches and bruises that’ll take a bit before they fully heal. At least I hit grass and not the stone pathway.
I roll a couple times before I come to a stop and gasp out a breath. I open my eyes and twinkling lights blink at me. I landed on my back and as I uncurl my body I find nothing broken. Scrapes and bruises for sure, and everything aches, but no broken bones.
The stars above me go blurry before tears roll over the outer corners of my eyes. I don’t remember the last time I cried. The devil loved when I would cry for him, but the mage always hated it. That’s the only time when she would beat me herself.
Heaving a breath, I furiously wipe my eyes and sit up. Thunder from further away rumbles low and menacing as I survey where I had run to. Towards my right is a house I remember from my first week here. The same house Asher had led us to.
Stone House.
Thorne’s house.
I stand up and shove every ache and pain into the recesses of my mind. Instead of the self-hatred and shame and regret I focus on the rage. So, so much rage I’ve collected over the years. I’ve harbored like coins of treasure, hidden within the deepest part of myself.
Memories of the sun devil and his fated mage and their beatings and markings I let flood my mind. The times when I was forced to drink the devils religious blood and his fated’s rotting water mage blood. When they wanted me to mark them as the devil marked me.
I let my mind fill with the memories of after them too.
The lust filled foster men who would try sneaking into my room at night.
Or the ones who would beat me until I couldn’t move and then try to use me.
Or the foster woman who let their jealousy fuel them and wanted to burn and scar my beautiful face.
Wanted to beat the carnal attributes right out of me.
So much rage. So much fury.
So much wrath.
Music and song was my escape from all of it.
I was safe. And at least when I would sing it would distract them from wanting to beat me more.
There had been a whole month the devil left me alone so long as I sang to them.
I couldn’t even hate it because music was mine and I have only ever sung for myself.
So why does he have power over me.
Why did he sneer as though I didn’t have the right to sing.
Why did he hate me more because of it.
My blood flickers with a life I haven’t used since I was ten. A type of burning from flames igniting my bones as I start walking towards the house.
My foot lands on the first step and the doors are thrown open. It lands on the second and the structure of the house groans. I step onto the porch and the foundation trembles.
No one stops me as I enter. The closest creature with enough blood in their body to concern me is still deep within the walls of the main building of the university. I don’t waste time letting my aura flood the space. A mist of red roving through the halls, seeking what I wish.
There’s a flutter near my left ear and I lift my hand to allow the spider to climb on.
The bright orange and white pumpkin cat peers at me with six black eyes as I softly stroke the top of his head.
He’s been lurking around the window of my room and tonight he seemed like he wanted an adventure. I’m glad he survived my tumble.
When I figure out where Thorne’s room is I let my little friend climb back onto the top of my head and then I make my way up. Of course Thorne, House President and son to the demon chairholder of the Mage Board, has an entire suite to himself.
His double doors get thrown open like the front ones did the second I face them. I’m first greeted by an open foyer with a whole wall made of glass exposing the large balcony. Thorne’s blood and thunder scent drenches the area. His aura is so strong that threads of it are still lingering about.
I curl my hands into fists as I survey it all. To the right is where his bedroom is. The left some sort of office. The door to it opens and allows me to see a wall of books.
I shouldn’t. Knowledge holds power, but the grief has shifted and all I want is for him to feel what I felt. I want him to know what it is to be shown unfairness. I want him to know what it is to burn.
Internally, there’s a click. A key finally twisting in a lock it’s been kept in forever.
I uncurl my hands and stare at the space with deadened eyes. Glancing back I lock eyes with red. Pure, damning, wrathful. I tilt my head up at myself through the mirror and then allow that door inside me to open.
I have never been afraid of fire. Not even when the devil tried burning me with flames instead of the sun. That kind of burning. . . it felt like comfort instead of pain. It was the only time I never scarred.
Flames dance as they consume the room. Worls of different shades of blue curl around my hands as I watch the destruction. Keeping it contained to this suite and all the things within. Letting my fire burn Thorne’s life here to ash. Just like he tried to do to me the first day we met.
A reaping for what he tried to do, and for hurting Asher. No action is without consequence, and I will deliver his detriment.
Heat engulfs me right as the whole wall made of windows explodes out. Shards piercing the air with the power of my flames and I revel in the destruction. Already most of the space is ashes. The rest of the house safe as I pour every ounce of my anger into my blue flame.
Blood movement catches my attention but they’re still outside. Walking through the flames, I make for the balcony and into the cool night air. The dark sky glittering with stars you can only see because there is no light from the moon.