Chapter 80
I had fully intended to spend the day lying awake and contemplating my increasingly complicated existence. That was the plan-a solid, mature plan involving reflection, emotional processing, and perhaps a little self-pity.
Instead, I woke up midday with my face pressed into the pillow, drool on my cheek, and absolutely no memory of falling asleep. So much for emotional growth.
After what I could loosely call brunch, our host Benedict-or "Benny," as he preferred-informed me that brooding was unhealthy and fresh air would do me good. Then he handed me a shovel.
Which was how I found myself aggressively digging holes in the vegetable garden behind the house while trying not to think about Rhaevan.
Unfortunately, when someone tells you not to think about a person, your brain immediately promotes them to the Most Important Subject in the Universe.
I stabbed the soil harder. There. That carrot had personally offended me.
The old mage had assured me that gardening was calming. I disagreed. At the moment, it felt like agricultural violence. I was halfway through imagining Rhaevan's face on an especially stubborn weed when movement near the road caught my attention.
I straightened. A man covered in an absurd number of tattoos walked towards the market street. Then he turned slightly, and I saw a crooked knife at his waist.
The mark.
I froze. The dagger. The woman. The Veiled Thorn. Why were these people carrying that stupid symbol like identity tags?
While I was lost in thought, he sped up and headed in the opposite direction. My heart raced. I looked around for Benedict, but he had vanished inside for seeds. Wonderful. The one time I actually needed adult supervision.
The man continued walking away, fast. Every sensible survival instinct advised me to let him go, but curiosity and common sense have never had a healthy relationship inside my head. Putting the shovel down, I followed him.
Carefully. At least, that was the intention. The execution was questionable.
I trailed him through the marketplace, pretending to be intensely interested in whatever happened to be nearby. At one point, when he turned back once, I stared at a scarf for thirty seconds. The merchant looked delighted; I looked trapped.
Eventually, the man led me to a quieter, older, considerably more concerning part of town. Buildings stood partially collapsed with broken windows and cracked walls-the exact sort of location where innocent people got kidnapped in novels. I knew this from experience.
He disappeared into a neglected structure. I slipped behind an overturned wooden cart near a wall. Perfect. I could see and hear him, and nobody could see me. For once, my plans were working.
I waited. Then the air shifted, a dark mist appeared, and out stepped the woman.
Her. The irritating voice. The one who had kidnapped me, stabbed Lucien, and whom I wanted arrested. I leaned forward slightly.
"They've tightened security everywhere," the man said.
"Good," she replied. "That means they're scared."
"The preparations?"
"Almost complete."
"And the barrier?"
"It's stronger here," she folded her arms. "We're close now. Closer than we've ever been. The final stage begins soon."
I leaned forward, trying to hear better, but the man lowered his voice. Squinting, I leaned forward another inch.
The cart creaked.
I froze.
"Someone's there," the woman said immediately.
I slowly began crawling backward like a terrified crab.
"Find whoever it is and end this!" she pointed toward my hiding spot.
The man's eyes darkened as actual dark veins spread across his skin-a development I thoroughly disliked.
The woman dissolved into black smoke and vanished.
Tattoo Man walked directly toward my cart.
Slowly. Deliberately. Like something out of a nightmare.
My heart pounded so loudly I was convinced he could hear it.
I shut my eyes in sheer denial.
I hope he gives me an easy death.
Then, warm arms wrapped around my waist from behind.
The grip was immediate and firm, almost desperate, and for one terrifying second I had no idea who had reached me. I felt myself being pulled back against a solid chest, the air around us twisting before I could even process what was happening.
Before I could scream, the world twisted. The street disappeared, the alley vanished, and the air shifted violently. A moment later, we stood near the path leading back to Benedict's house.
I stumbled forward, disoriented and breathing hard, before turning around.
Rhaevan. Of course.
His face looked furious-not annoyed, but genuinely furious. And somehow, that made me angry too.
There was something else beneath the anger, though. His breathing was uneven, and his jaw was clenched so tightly that I could see the muscle working near his cheek. His eyes moved over me quickly, as if checking for injuries before finally settling on my face.
"What were you thinking?" he demanded.
I blinked. "What was I thinking?"
"Yes."
"I was thinking that I found a lead."
"Why would you follow them alone?"
"I was gathering information."
" You could have died!"
I folded my arms defensively. If he was going to be angry, I was too. "I found something useful."
"That's not the point."
"It literally is the point."
"Cassiane-"
"No." I stepped back, my chest tightening with frustration. For days he had been shutting me out, ignoring me, treating me like fragile glass. I was tired of it. "You left me behind."
"Because it's dangerous."
"I am aware."
"You don't act like it."
I laughed, a short, bitter sound. "Right."
"Cass-"
"No, seriously," I shook my head. "I finally do something useful and you're angry."
"I'm angry because you scared me," he exhaled, frustratingly running a hand through his hair.
"You agreed to a mission with almost no chance of coming back. You accepted before anyone could even speak. You didn't ask for advice. You didn't ask for help. You simply decided. What were you thinking Cassiane?"
The anger in his voice faltered on the last question, leaving something rawer underneath it.
He stepped closer, his hands hovering as if to hold me, then dropped them. "Don't do this, Cassiane.....Don't make me watch you throw your life away."
For a moment, I couldn't answer.
Something about the way he said it made my chest tighten. Not because of the words themselves, but because he sounded as though the thought of it had already frightened him.
I looked at his face... and I saw it. He wasn't angry. He was... afraid.
Why? I thought. Why would he be afraid? Could it be-
No. I heard the confession on the tower balcony. Him and Lysenne are together. This is just his guilt over being the reason Eryndor found me. He is merely fulfilling his duty. I can't get my hopes up and fall for him.
I forced the thought away before it could become something more dangerous.
For a second, neither of us spoke.
I looked away first, because somehow that hurt more than the shouting. "I don't need guarding every second," I said quietly.
His expression tightened. "And I don't need someone deciding what I can and can't do."
The silence stretched between us-heavy, awkward, painful.
Neither of us moved. I wanted him to say something. Anything. To tell me that I had misunderstood him, that his anger meant something else, that there was some reason for the way he had looked at me.
He didn't.
I swallowed and shook my head. "Forget it."
Before he could say anything else, I turned and walked back toward the house. My eyes burned, which was ridiculous, because I wasn't crying. I absolutely was not crying. I was merely experiencing an aggressive reaction to wind indoors while walking away from the most frustrating man in existence.
I kept waiting for his footsteps behind me.
They never came.
The fact that he didn't follow me somehow made it worse.