chapter twenty-nine
elysia
I wake in my own quarters in the suite, no recollection of how I got here, only that I’m dressed in my light blue shift, and my hair is neatly combed, as if someone had cared enough to do it.
A pot of moonleaf and rose tea sits on my bedside table, still warm thanks to the tea cosy covering it. A gentle smile tilts my lips as my eyes roam to the empty mug beside the steaming pot, a note leaning against its blush-pink porcelain.
I reach forward, the pale vellum crinkling beneath my fingers as I fold it open and read the words written in shimmering blue ink.
Maybe you regret last night, but I’m still glad it happened.
Ps. You talk in your sleep.
- K
Amusement blooms at his observation, a quiet huff of laughter escaping before I can stop it.
I don’t do it often—only when exhaustion digs too deep and my guard slips.
My smile lingers for a pulse before fading, guilt quickly creeping in…
a hint of the feeling, but there all the same.
The idea that he might believe I’d regret what we shared settles heavy in my chest, pressing in with an ache I didn’t expect.
Cedarwood and cinnamon still cling to my skin, stubborn and intimate, and the scent alone is enough to make my heart stumble.
Memory rushes in uninvited… the warmth of his skin, the way his hands lingered like he was memorising me, the sound of my own voice when I finally came undone.
The ache between my thighs throbs in response, and I groan, dragging a hand over my face.
I pour tea into the waiting mug, watching steam curl upward, warmth settling into my bones with each sip. I breathe in the floral aroma, chewing on my bottom lip as every touch and careful caress replays itself again with vivid clarity.
No. I don’t regret last night.
Not for a single heartbeat.
I push to my feet on shaky legs, running through familiar motions. I bathe, brush my teeth, dress in a black cotton shirt and leggings, plait my hair and strap my dagger to my thigh.
Once I’ve left the suite, I move through the grounds of the Tower with brisk steps as the bond hums beneath my ribs, alive and demanding, but even the bond isn’t enough to smother my racing thoughts this morning, what I found last night still lashing at me in violent waves.
I need an outlet before I drown in it.
The runes around the Concordium hiss and snap against my skin when I step inside, the magic biting warm and electric. Running up the stairs, I round the corner and head through the door of the combat hall. The racks gleam with polished steel, and my fingers itch for the weight of a weapon.
I grab a handful of throwing knives and throw them at the targets in rapid succession, whizzing through the air with the precision of someone who has done it a thousand times before.
Thud. Dead centre.
Another.
Thud.
And again.
I pull them back with telekinetic energy and throw them again. The rhythm becomes a pulse, my pulse, until the sound echoes across the empty hall. The metallic tang of blood coats my tongue, my teeth having sunk into my lip from pure frustration and fear of who… or what I actually am.
Curiosity and something like concern simmers through the bond as Kaden watches me from the other side of the combat hall. His gaze drags over me, slow and assessing, watching my every movement.
A familiar pressure presses against my thoughts, and I push back, magic rippling over my skin, simultaneously cutting off his access to my thoughts as I call the knives back with a flick of my fingers. They sink back into the target a second later.
“Morning, darling,” Sirena drawls, sauntering over with a handful of knives twirling between her fingers, plait bouncing against her shoulder. “Someone’s in a good mood.”
“Not now, Sirena,” I mutter, pulling the knives back from the targets.
She grins, stepping up beside me, eyes glinting. “Not now? You’re about two seconds away from burning down the Concordium.” Her eyes flick to the floor, where small flames lick at my feet. “Want to tell me what’s wrong?”
“Shit!” I gasp, stamping them out and letting one knife fly. “And no, I’m fine.”
Her eyes roam over me, pinning me still as she tries to peel back my layers. “Hmm… you sure you don’t want to talk about whatever is chewing you up?”
I throw another blade. It hits the centre hard enough to make the wood groan and split. “I said I’m fine.”
Sirena snorts. “And I think you’re lying. Come on, spill. What are friends for if not to air each other’s dirty laundry?”
I huff and roll my eyes, but a small laugh escapes my mouth. “I thought friends were for support and comfortable silence, not interrogations?”
She twirls a knife and throws; it bites into the target’s wood with a satisfying crack. “Fine. Tell me, don’t tell me… but something is clearly eating at you.”
Fidgeting with my ring, I call back my throwing knives. I can’t tell Sirena about what I found in the cottage, but I could tell her about Kaden and me. At the very least, it would get her off my case for a while.
I clear my throat, voice coming out in a low whisper, “I umm… I slept with Kaden last night.”
The knife in Sirena’s hand slips, clattering to the floor. “Oh.” She blinks once, then again. “Oh!” her brow arches. “Was it not good?”
“Gods, it was fucking incredible. It’s just—” She cuts me off with her hand.
“Then why the fuck do you look like someone destroyed your favourite book? Please tell me why you’re sulking after getting laid,” she laughs.
I shoot her a look sharp enough to cut. “It’s not funny.”
“Oh, it’s a little funny,” she quips, picking up her knives. “Though I did wonder, Kaden’s been looking weirdly relaxed this morning. Still brooding, obviously… but not quite so murdery. Guess now we know why.”
My eyes roll, “Don’t start.”
“No judgment,” she says lightly, sending a knife flying. It hits the target with perfect precision. “I’m just saying, it’s nice to see him not pacing holes into the floor, and it was only a matter of time anyway. You two have been dangerously close to crossing that line for a while.”
“If he needed to get laid, I’m sure he could have gotten it from anyone.” The thought makes my insides churn, jealousy running hot through my veins.
Sirena barks a laugh. “You really don’t know him, do you?”
I glance sideways at her, confusion knitting my brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She tilts her head, studying me. “Kaden might look like the kind of man who can have whoever he wants, and he could… but he doesn’t. He’s guarded to the bone, doesn’t let women in or anyone really. If he sleeps with someone, it’s rare. Once in a blue moon.”
The words hit like a knife to the gut. My stomach twists violently, nausea clawing up my throat. I school my face into something neutral and force my hand steady as I lift another blade. “Oh. That’s… surprising.”
Sirena hums under her breath, a smirk tugging up her lips. “You should attempt getting to know him a little more. Maybe then this soulbond of yours wouldn’t feel like a slow-motion death.”
I snort. “I’d rather spar blindfolded with flaming daggers.”
She laughs, low and bright. “Suit yourself. But if you don’t, you’re doomed to spend eternity having hot hate sex and wallowing in self-pity after every round.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re a menace.”
“Just practical,” she says, sending another knife straight through the bullseye. “Talk to him, Elysia. Learn who he is when he’s not wearing all that armour. You might be surprised by what you find.”
I don’t answer. I just throw my knives.