Chapter 24 Dreams to Forget #2
“Oh, right,” she said. “Sorry, I was going to tell you.”
We hadn’t spoken about my stolen moments with Blake but I knew Roslyn was aware through her silence. She didn’t miss much.
She winked at me and said, “I’ll be back in a bit.”
I watched her go, her red curls slipping from the updo, creating a more romantic and elegant look. She strolled through the ballroom, effortlessly moving through the undulating crowd, more of an enigma to me than even Blake.
My mind quickly returned to the haunting waltz played by the string quartet that had taken over the music from the pianist. Something was off about Isabella not being here.
The other students were laughing and enjoying their conversations.
Everyone was dressed in impeccable evening wear.
A waiter neared me, offering me his tray of drinks in fluted champagne glasses.
I accepted one, taking a sip of the bubbly, chilled liquid.
The atmosphere was completely different than my night here with Blake.
My mind eased at the memory of his graceful movements and his perfect control over my body.
There was something cathartic in not knowing where I was going as we danced that night, without the ability to change my path if I wanted to.
It had been as terrifying as it had been freeing.
I meandered through the room, careful not to trip and die in these shoes.
Looking for Saryna and Caelan, I wondered where Blake had gone when something shimmering caught my eye.
The white gossamer curtains rippled, though the doors to the veranda were closed.
Feeling spooked, I slipped out. The cold wind was jarring amidst such a gorgeous landscape.
The snow-covered grounds were lit by the glowing lanterns that made the snow appear to be glittering. Such a brittle, harsh beauty.
A soft sobbing pulled my attention, and I found Isabella at the end of the railing, hidden in shadow. “Bella?” I called.
She didn’t answer me, and I went to her. She was staring out at the grounds. Touching her arm, I snapped my hand back. She was so cold.
“Hey,” I said, my concern growing by the second. “How long have you been out here?”
She didn’t respond. I panicked for a moment, trying to figure out what to do when she spoke.
“Have you ever wondered why we desire the love of others?”
She didn’t move or acknowledge me, and her voice was odd—fragile almost.
“Isabella?” I said. “Look at me.”
“What does love do for us?” she continued. “Why should we seek such transient things when there are permanent things in this world? Like the darkness in the sky. It is permanent, there every night, reliable and consistent.”
A chill made me shiver, and I looked upon her delicate features, seeing only the terrified face of a young woman struggling to hang onto my hand on the side of a cliff.
I grabbed her chin and jerked.
“Snap out of it, Bella! Tell me what happened,” I said firmly.
Her eyes slowly shifted to me, and she looked confused. “Sorry, Anna. I guess I lost interest in the ball.”
“Why?” I asked. “What happened to your mystery date? It’s that guard, isn’t it?”
She shifted away from me and held her arms to her body as if suddenly realizing how cold it was. “Oh, no, but I still see him sometimes. Apparently, I got stood up tonight. He showed up with Saryna.”
Malakai? Panic flooded my veins. Her date was Malakai? Drug her until she nearly passes out, may or may not be drinking blood-laced wine in the dungeons, MALAKAI?
But Isabella didn’t look like she could handle the onslaught of reprimands screaming in my head. Her skin was pale, and her usually vibrant brown eyes sullen and dull.
“Bella, I’m sorry,” I mustered, barely keeping the ire out of my voice
“Yeah. It’s whatever. He’s a real jerk,” she said, completely missing my total lack of composure. “It’s freezing out here. I’m going back in.”
She turned to leave, and I followed her. “I’ll come with you.”
She paused and smiled at me with a tight, forced curve of her lips. “I’m fine, Anna. I just want to find a drink and some hot Initiate to take my mind off it.”
I faltered, unsure if I should push or respect her boundaries, but she was gone before I’d made up my mind.
I tipped my head back and sighed, trying to piece together what had just happened.
Feeling the chill, I held my arms close to my chest. I probably deserved it.
Isabella was the first of our group to make it to Adept.
She was insanely clever, despite her inane chatter and obsession with clothes and make-up.
But still—I knew what her weakness was. For all her strengths, she was gullible to someone playing on her crushing need for acceptance.
Malakai would’ve seen that in an instant.
The susceptibility she had to Malakai was unreal, leaving me aghast and unsure of what to do.
It was well past time for me to say something about Malakai. Roslyn was the only person I trusted at this point. I wanted to trust Blake but he was too close to him. It compromised him.
A few moments later, the door opened. My heart skipped a beat when Blake stepped outside.
He spotted me, pausing momentarily. He was dressed like a prince, the light of the lanterns glistening in the polished black of his coat.
Deep crimson and gold embroidery was sewn expertly on his sleeves, curling and twisting in elegant designs.
His waistcoat fit him perfectly, its cut and shape altered with delicate precision.
His collared ivory shirt was sleek and pristine, pressed until no unintended crease was visible.
A cold wind caught the long edges of his coat as he stepped forward. He watched me like a silent guardian, his presence alone enough to stave off the cold chill in the air.
He rested his hand on the iron rail of the balcony’s edge but kept space between us.
“Is your friend alright?” he asked.
Still flustered over her odd behavior, I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”
“What about you?” he asked, his voice lowering an octave.
The events of the last few weeks ran through my head like an uncut movie filled with unfinished scenes. The pulse I often associated with Blake’s presence hummed through my body.
“I’m fine,” I said.
His stoic expression remained unchanged and the melodic sounds of a beautiful piece sounded through the glass as the pianist returned to his instrument of choice. I glanced inside, shivering at the warmth contained within the ballroom.
"Are you cold?"
"No," I lied.
He responded by slipping off his jacket and placing it around my shoulders.
It was soft and immediately transferred his warmth to my skin.
His hand grazed my arm as he put it on and I was acutely reminded of the moments our blades would strike during our sparring match.
It was there between us, a connection that felt alive.
"I can feel it―the energy in the air. All the time. Especially around you. I still have no idea what it is but I can tell there’s something about you that’s different from the others. Even the others that are already different,” I said.
His expression yielded nothing. I shifted and faced him, studying him carefully. I couldn’t figure it out. I was simultaneously at ease and utterly uncomfortable around him. It was like I’d known him all my life but I didn’t know his last name. What was it that I was missing?
“Who are you?” I whispered, desperate for someone to answer me.
He stared out at the snow-laden gardens. "Does being in my presence give you pause?"
A hint of discomfort forced me to shift. I didn’t like the distance in his tone, the doubt.
“Pause regarding what?”
He commanded such a presence that, when he turned, it immobilized me. He moved forward, closing the space between us, close enough that I could smell the sweet wine on his breath.
I stayed my ground but his proximity immediately increased my heart rate and caused my muscles to tighten, reducing the vibrating tension throughout. He was so close that if I took a deep breath our chests would have touched. He inclined his head as he lowered his lips to my ear.
“In being close to me,” he murmured, a tingle trailed down my ear to my neck making me shudder.
The air around us felt as if it had stopped moving. He withdrew, but only enough that I could look into his eyes.
“No. Being in your presence puts everything in motion,” I said quietly. "Do you think I should stay away from you?"
Blake let out a low chuckle with a slight one-sided grin. "Almost certainly."
His amusement at my answer was fraught with mirthless irony. But that wasn’t all there was in his revealing statement. There was sorrow in his words, just like Roslyn. And, like her, sorrow felt like an understatement.
“Why did you go home after that night in the tower?” I asked.
Blake closed his eyes. “It was the anniversary of my mother’s death. I went back to pay my respects.”
My heart dropped. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago,” he said.
Laced in his carefully veiled words was something more than grief though—something I understood all too well.
Self-loathing.
I could feel it as if it were my own, like a familiar memory dredged up by a scent I hadn’t noticed for a long time.
It pierced me at my core and while it did make him dangerous, I was too smitten to feel fear.
Evil men didn’t offer cold, confused women their coats to stay warm.
Still, there was a warning in his words, too.
There was something in his life to fear but it wasn’t him.