Chapter Sixteen #2
“For fuck’s sake,” she mutters to herself as she rummages through her pack without glancing over. “Where’s the box?”
Candlelight spills over her as she moves, catching the lines of the fire tattoo along her neck and my gaze follows before I can stop it.
Tracing the ink as it runs down her dark, tanned skin, disappearing beneath her shirt only to reappear lower, where the fabric has lifted just enough to see it skimming the curve of her hips before it vanishes again beneath the waistband at her toned stomach.
The tent isn’t even that warm, but heat still gathers under my skin as I wonder whether Talen’s tongue has ever been on it. Wonder what it would be like if mine was—
"Want to see where it ends?" Reya teases.
My eyes snap straight to hers and my blood instantly cools when I realise she’s caught me staring.
“No, I was—”
“It’s fine, I don't charge for looking.” She cuts in with a smirk, then turns back to her pack.
Fuck, am I that exhausted, that strung out, that I can’t even keep my head straight anymore? I mean, I know it’s been a while since I got any action, but has it really been that long that even Reya’s setting me off—
Shaking my head, I push out a breath and step onto the mat. God, I need a good night's sleep. I was counting on training to take the edge off, but it’s not going to touch this, not when it’s built up this much.
No—this needs something else.
“You know they’re never going to listen to you, Freckles, if you don’t demonstrate why they should.” She throws the words over her shoulder at me as she continues to rummage through her things. “You're not leading; you're just teaching... if you can even call it that.”
I grit my teeth, the frustration already sitting too close to the surface as she curses under her breath and gives up on whatever she was searching for and joins me on the mat.
“I’m not going to train them like it’s the Citadel,” I snap, forcing my hands steady as she strides toward me, stopping far closer than necessary.
“Stars, someone’s in a bad mood.” She plants her hands on her hips, and my focus catches on the slow sweep of her tongue across her bottom lip in a way that has me biting down on my own. “You really ought to let some of that tension out before it gets someone hurt.”
A short laugh escapes me. “You can talk.”
She raises a brow, but ignores the jab and continues. “Look, I’m not telling you to fucking kill them. I’m just saying, if you want to lead, you need to give them a reason to follow.” Her eyes lock on mine and hold as though she’s waiting for a response.
“Sure, okay—fine, I’ll think about it.” My jaw stiffens as I drop my gaze from hers and step back a fraction. Teaching is already embarrassing enough, and I’m going to lose it if she stands here pushing for more, so I shift the conversation before she can. “Anyway... how's things with you and Luc?”
“We’re simply having some fun,” she scoffs, so casual as she flicks her palm over and the candles in the room instantly respond, their flames whipping toward her and gathering in her hand until she’s holding an orange-sized ball of fire.
My pulse jumps a beat, but nothing like JC’s fire the other day.
“I’m sure it’s not just fun for him.” My tone is harsher than I intend, as I shift into stance, readying myself.
She grumbles something but I don't catch it before she launches the first fireball directly at my face. It explodes the second it hits the shield of moisture I’ve already pulled around myself, the impact kicking back into my arms as I press into my feet, holding it steady until the heat bleeds off.
Reya’s training might not be fixing my main fire fear, but it’s doing something—I don’t freeze as much anymore and my Threads are snapping into place faster than they used to.
“What about girls?” I ask, dropping my arms and trying to stall her before she strikes again. “You seeing any?”
It doesn't work, her hand throws out, and flames tear free from a nearby lantern, rushing me and clawing for my wrists.
“Nothing serious, not since Talen...”
Tensing every muscle, I strain as I pull the air around me, my Threads catching and driving the blaze outward, forcing it to recoil and whip back toward her.
“You just need to find a female version of him.”
Reya ducks, letting out an awkward half laugh. “Yeah, well, I already did—but she’s not into girls. At least I don't think so. But even if she was, I wouldn’t be able to touch her.” My eyes narrow on her in confusion. She shakes her head. “Never mind.”
The next strike of fire lashes out from her, and I move to swipe it aside, but the rustle of canvas behind me pulls my focus as a silhouette steps through, too dark to make out their face.
But I don’t need the light to know who it is.
I’d know that posture anywhere.
Talen.
My heart stalls, locking up in my chest at the sight of him, just in time for Reya’s fire to slam into my back, knocking the wind right out of me. Grunting, I double over, dropping my hands to my knees.
“Ohhh.” Reya steps up beside me, her tone far too pleased, like she’s just solved a puzzle. “That’s why you’re so snappy tonight—someone hasn’t gotten any action in a while.”
I ignore her and keep my head down, my attention anchored to the mat, not her—and definitely not him—as I drag in a breath, willing the flush from my face.
Anger. Focus on the anger. I tell myself that, but now he’s here, my body doesn’t seem to want to listen and every nerve in me wakes for an entirely different reason.
“You know you just need to forgive and fuck.” She adds.
“It’s not that easy,” I mutter, forcing myself upright despite my pulse still racing.
It’s not easy because it’s not really even about him anymore; it’s about me. But I don’t tell her that.
“Sure it is.” She tilts her head in his direction, where he’s now leaning back against a support pole at the side of the tent.
His arms are crossed, one boot hooked over the other, while the lantern above catches along the chiseled angles of his face. My gaze catches on his before I can stop it, and his mouth shifts into a smile that instantly makes me forget why I'm punishing myself and keeping my distance.
“It usually is with girls anyway,” Reya adds, stepping in closer. “You ever tried?” I turn to her, raising a brow. “Being with a girl, I mean.”
Blood races back into my cheeks. “I—uh—I never really thought about it.”
I pray the lie will hide the fact that I’ve actually spent the last month picturing exactly what she’d be like—not because I want her, but because I can’t stop thinking about the fact that he has.
“You know…” Her voice dips, softening at the edges, as she lifts a hand and brushes her fingers lightly down my arm—slow enough to make the hairs there rise.
“Talen’s always had a thing for the most beautiful girls.
I used to be so jealous at the Citadel, all the female cadets coming and going from his dorm…
” Glancing down, I can't help noticing the way her breasts rise and fall with each breath, and my whole body goes still.“See,” she murmurs, “you’re so tense, you need to let something out.”
Her touch lingers a second too long before she lets it fall to my leg. I swallow but it catches as my throat tightens.
“Reya—” Her name barely makes it past my lips as I shift back, hitting the solid wood of the support pole behind me.
“Shhh.” She follows, her breath warm at my ear as her fingers trail ever closer to the edge of my waistband. “Just look at him.”
The tent falls silent as the sound of my own heartbeat starts to drown out everything else, a pounding drum-line that kicks harder the second I glance down at her hand.
God, my ribs ache with the effort of staying calm—like everything I’ve been holding in these past four weeks is pressing outward all at once, begging for release, desperate for somewhere to go.
I should stop her—
—but I don’t.
Instead, I lift my gaze and my heart slams once—hard enough to hurt—then completely drops out as I meet Talen’s.
He isn’t leaning back anymore, he’s bolt upright, lips parted, chest rising just as heavily as mine.
Then his eyes drop.
To Reya’s hand at my waistband.
To the button coming loose.
To the slide of her body as it inches closer to mine.
Shifting, his weight tips forward like he’s about to come to me—about to stop this, or join it, or do something—but he doesn’t.
He freezes there instead, every line of him pulled taut, body held rigid as he watches Reya’s hand slip beneath the fabric and the air between us turns hot enough to choke on.