Chapter 14
Silently, I forced my hands to stop shaking.
Forced myself not to give in to panic.
I needed my magic close.
Ready.
If things went wrong, I wanted the flames to answer immediately.
Before turning around, I instinctively stepped in front of Gwen.
Shielding her.
They weren't going to hurt her.
I wouldn't allow it.
As I finally faced the voice, confusion rooted me to the spot.
Four figures stood on the opposite side of the pool.
Three men.
One woman.
For a split second, another wave of fear surged through me.
Then I recognized two of them.
Tarven.
And Lars.
My stomach tightened.
“What exactly were you doing here?” Tarven asked, fixing Gwen and me with a sharp, stern look.
Compared to Airis, his version of intimidating barely registered.
“And who exactly are you people?” Gwen snapped, snatching up the metal pole from the grass.
Clearly prepared to swing first and ask questions later.
“I really hope these aren't the same people who were here earlier,” I said aloud.
Silently praying the Raars would help me.
Thankfully, they didn't disappoint.
“No,” one of them answered immediately.
“Those four looked different.”
Relief flickered through me.
Small.
But real.
“Were you already here because of Airis?” I asked carefully, trying to steer the conversation somewhere safer.
And hopefully lower Gwen's willingness to commit assault.
“So this is our security detail?” Gwen arched a brow.
After I nodded, she reluctantly lowered the pole.
“I'll ask again,” Tarven said.
“What were you doing here?”
All four of them looked tense.
Ready.
Like they expected a threat to appear at any second.
“I came looking for clues.”
I held up the brooch.
“And apparently I wasn't wrong.”
Lars frowned immediately.
“Airis couldn't have missed something like that.”
“You're right.”
I cut him off before he could continue.
“It wasn't here when we arrived earlier.”
That made Tarven's eyes narrow.
“There's an inscription on the back.”
I turned the brooch over.
“Looks like Urpis.”
“You were talking to someone while we watched you,” Tarven said.
My pulse stumbled.
Just once.
“But nobody was there.”
Silence settled over the ruined backyard.
Heavy.
Dangerous.
“And now you're claiming the people responsible conveniently returned and left a clue behind.”
I pressed my lips together.
Damn it.
They had noticed.
And worse—
Tarven wasn't looking at the brooch anymore.
He was looking directly at me.
Like I was the mystery he was trying to solve.
“Ria does that sometimes,” Gwen shrugged casually. “Talks to herself out loud. We found out those people came back because of the neighbors across the street. They saw them yesterday morning... and again this afternoon.”
I held my breath.
Waiting.
Praying they'd believe her.
Lars's expression didn't change.
Not even slightly.
Which somehow felt worse than if he'd called us liars outright.
“Why didn't you tell Airis?”
He crossed his arms over his chest.
“Because I found out after he'd already fallen asleep,” I replied, forcing myself to mirror Gwen's relaxed posture. “He passed out the second he got back to the apartment. I didn't want to wake him.”
“When exactly did you have time to talk to the neighbor?”
His eyes never left mine.
“Airis didn't leave your side for a second.”
Damn it.
He wasn't buying any of this.
“I talked to her,” Gwen answered smoothly before I could.
“I had a work meeting nearby today. While I was heading home, I ran into the neighbor and she told me what happened.”
Gods.
You were terrifyingly good at lying, Gwendolyn Dürkgheim.
Lars studied her for several long seconds.
Then looked back at me.
“Why don't I believe either of you?”
“That sounds like a personal problem,” Gwen replied with a shrug.
I almost laughed.
Almost.
“What did you find?”
Tarven extended his hand.
I tossed him the brooch.
It sailed across the pool and landed neatly in his palm.
He barely glanced at it.
Then scoffed.
“That's Moss's team crest.”
The words made my stomach tighten.
So whoever had left the brooch wanted us to think Harold Moss was responsible.
Or wanted us to think he wanted us to think that.
“Fine.”
Tarven slipped the brooch into his pocket.
“We'll discuss all of this with Airis in the morning before I return to Vuduarus.”
His gaze settled on me.
Sharp.
Assessing.
“He's going to be furious about your little nighttime escape.”
“I'll survive it.”
I tried to sound brave.
Tried to sound unconcerned.
But deep down, I already knew that wasn't what worried me.
What worried me was Lars.
Because even now, he was still watching me.
Not the pool.
Not the blood.
Me.
Like he already knew I hadn't told them everything.
******
“And how exactly am I supposed to trust you when you keep doing things like this behind my back?”
Calling Airis furious would've been the understatement of the century.
The entire room felt suffocating.
Heavy.
Dangerously quiet.
I hadn't heard exactly how Tarven had presented the story, but judging by Airis's mood, he'd probably turned Gwen and me into the villains.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I listened in silence.
With every passing second, guilt burned deeper beneath my skin.
Even though I knew telling him the truth would've put me at risk.
“How am I supposed to keep defending you in front of the squad?” Airis continued.
“Keep convincing them you're not one of Moss's spies?”
“Isn't the Temple of Nereida enough?” I snapped before I could stop myself.
The second the words left my mouth, I regretted them.
Airis's stare hit like a physical force.
“If I were you,” he said quietly, “I'd think very carefully before answering.”
I exhaled.
Since when did his anger affect me this much?
“I apologized, didn't I?”
I forced myself to meet his eyes.
“But I couldn't tell you.”
“And why exactly not?”
The sharp lines of his face hardened even further.
God.
The man somehow became more intimidating every time he got angry.
Definitely not someone I'd ever want as an enemy.
And right now, he looked dangerously close to treating me like one.
“I already told you I have my secrets,” I muttered, biting my lip and looking away.
“And I've already told you that keeping secrets isn't the problem.”
His voice dropped lower.
Colder.
“The problem is that you disappeared in the middle of the night with no protection.”
I froze.
Because that wasn't what we'd been arguing about.
Or at least, I hadn't thought it was.
“You went to a location connected to an active investigation.”
His jaw tightened.
“Without informing me.”
“I wasn't alone.”
“You were with one civilian.”
The way he said civilian made Gwen sound like she'd brought a spoon to a battlefield.
“I can take care of myself.”
“Can you?”
The question landed harder than I expected.
The room fell silent.
“I found you drugged and strapped to a hospital bed four days ago, Fireling.”
His eyes locked onto mine.
“And yesterday someone painted your parents' backyard with blood.”
Another step.
Another crack in my certainty.
“So no.”
His voice was frighteningly calm.
“I don't think you can take care of yourself.”
A pause.
“Not yet.”
“Airis, I really don't want to talk about it,” I said quietly, silently praying he wouldn't push any further.
“If I hadn't gone there tonight, nobody would've found out those people were trying to frame Moss.”
“I'd believe you,” Airis replied.
The words gave me hope for half a second.
Then he finished:
“If you had proof.”
That hurt.
Far more than it should have.
The feeling wrapped itself around my heart like a snake.
Slowly.
Tightly.
Cruelly.
I didn't expect Airis to trust me blindly.
Not after everything.
Not when we'd only known each other for a few days.
But for some reason—
I wanted him to.
Without proof.
Without explanations.
Without having to earn it.
The realization unsettled me almost as much as his accusation.
A sharp knock interrupted my thoughts.
Before either of us could answer, a familiar red-haired head appeared in the doorway.
“Are you two done fighting yet?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
The answers came at exactly the same time.
Dwayne completely ignored Airis.
Naturally.
“Wonderful.”
His grin widened.
“Then let's drive to Liverpool.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“To the beach.”
Dwayne wiggled his brows dramatically when he saw my expression.
“You're serious?”
“Darling, we have absolutely no idea when you're coming back.”
His smile softened slightly.
“Don't you want to visit your favorite place one more time before you leave?”
My favorite place.
Anthony Gormley's Another Place.
The beach filled with iron figures staring endlessly toward the horizon.
I hadn't even allowed myself to hope I'd see it again before returning to Istarus.
“We'll bring paints.”
Dwayne pointed at me.
“Canvases.”
Another point.
“Snacks.”
A third.
“We'll watch the sunset.”
Okay.
Now he was fighting dirty.
“That actually sounds amazing,” I admitted.
And for the first time since waking up that morning, excitement pushed aside the exhaustion.
Only briefly.
But it was enough.
My gaze drifted toward Airis.
I had no idea what he thought about any of it.
Or whether he even wanted to come.
But whether I liked it or not, he was becoming the closest thing I had to home in Istarus.
He'd be responsible for me.
Train me.
Guide me.
And I didn't want the tension between us to keep sharpening until it became something impossible to ignore.
“Then let's go,” Airis said simply.
Without waiting for my reaction, he headed for the door.
“We're leaving in an hour!” Dwayne called after him.
Then he immediately turned back to me.
“So.”
He leaned against the doorframe.
“What exactly do you know about Lars?”
I stared at him.
For a moment, I genuinely wondered whether he'd been listening to a completely different conversation than the rest of us.
I rolled my eyes.
For the first time all day, I felt myself relax.
“Dwayne, you're absolutely impossible.”
Under his expectant stare, however, I surrendered.
“I know his name.”
Dwayne stroked his chin thoughtfully.
“Then I'll have to ask Airis.”
“I wonder how quickly he'll tell you to fuck off.”
“Actually, Airis is surprisingly patient with me.”
Dwayne nodded.
“He answers all my questions.”
“Even the stupid ones?”
“Especially the stupid ones.”
I raised a brow.
“So you admit your questions are sometimes too much?”
“No idea what you're talking about.”
He shrugged without a trace of shame before looking me up and down.
“Get ready.”
Then he pointed a finger at me.
“And for the love of God, don't wear heels to the beach.”
I snorted.
The memory hit instantly.
Our first year at university.
Our first trip to Liverpool.
I'd completely forgotten about the beach and showed up in absurdly high heels.
And instead of taking them off and walking barefoot through the sand like a normal person, I'd stubbornly kept wearing them purely out of spite.
My friends never let me forget it.
“I'll pack the art supplies myself,” Dwayne continued.
“Need to impress Lars somehow.”
His eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
“I'm almost certain he's coming with us.”
“God help him.”
“God helps the brave.”
“God abandoned you years ago.”
Dwayne gasped dramatically.
“I can't believe you'd say that to your favorite person.”
“You're not even in the top three.”
His wounded expression followed him all the way into the hallway.
Even after he closed the door, I could still hear him talking to himself.
Or maybe rehearsing pickup lines for Lars.
With Dwayne, it was hard to tell.
Smiling despite myself, I walked toward the closet and started pulling out clothes.
But as the smile slowly faded, my thoughts drifted back to Airis.
To the argument.
To the things neither of us had said.
We needed to fix whatever was happening between us.
Because the problem wasn't the tension anymore.
The problem was that I cared.
Far more than I should have.