Chapter 21 #2
The outline of his features was the only thing she could see in the near-darkness, which brought all her other senses to life even more, and with every ragged breath, she smelled sage and leather and a hint of embers—and forest, a hint of flowers.
“In case you haven’t noticed, the whole academy is assembled in the courtyard at the moment.
Lenya is about to give a speech, and his spies are busy trying to figure out who fraternizes with whom among the students.
It might be the one day we don’t need to worry about being discovered in the hallways. ”
His tone was so light, so uncharacteristically cheerful, that Lory wondered if something had happened.
“Did you just return?” she asked instead of what she really wanted to know.
The rough leather of his weapons belt and harness and the shoulder pieces of his armor suggested he might, but no trace of sweat and dust touched her tongue when his lips found hers, responding to her question with a long, deep kiss that made Lory’s knees go weak.
“I’ve been back since last night.” He brushed his mouth over her jaw, pulling back just enough to get the words out, before he kissed his way down the side of her neck.
Lory arched into his touch, savoring the strength of his arms as he wrapped them around her waist.
A part of her wanted to be upset with him for not letting her know sooner he’d returned safely, or for not having visited her dreams once while on his mission. The rest of her was grateful for this rare moment when they didn’t need to keep checking over their shoulders.
“I missed you every minute.” Khayrivven’s words rumbled in his chest as Lory rested her hand above his heart, and his breath heated her skin. “We have about five minutes before I need to go out there and oversee part of the parcours. We should make the best of it.”
Lory didn’t think as she kissed him, nipping at his lower lip, and a small, needy sound came out of her as he rolled his hips against hers, his erection making itself known.
“I know we should use the time to discuss all those things we never get to talk about,” he huffed between kisses, “but when it comes to you, I’m too selfish to care.”
Lory shuddered as he slid his hand over her ass, securing her in place as he ground into her.
“When I’m with you, I don’t care about this academy or the Flame-born in the dungeons. I don’t care about Brestolya or the people suffering under her king’s rule.”
And every touch proved how serious he was. Like the rest of the world wasn’t even there.
Lory’s breath caught in her throat as he plunged his tongue into her mouth, slow and deep, reminding her exactly how skilled he was in the bedroom, and Guardians knew, all Lory wanted was to forget the world existed, too.
To allow them both that little reprieve.
But five minutes weren’t enough to enjoy all the aspects of Khayrivven’s physique, and if they didn’t talk now, she knew they’d both regret it.
With a sigh, she gently shoved against Khayrivven’s chest, leaning back a few inches, freeing herself from the intensity of his kiss.
“What’s wrong?” A frown etched his brow into a V, and his flushed lips pressed into a tight line, as if working hard to not follow her and recapture her mouth.
Undying hunger lived inside his midnight-framed eyes, and a piece of herself splintered as Lory decided that talking was more important than giving into that responding need boiling between her legs.
“I don’t even know where to begin.” Still breathless, Lory shared the latest news about her findings in Aiden’s book in a whisper, not leaving out any detail about how she wondered what the great lie was that had been marked on the bottom of the page.
How she’d tried to get information out of Brycon, and how she’d failed.
“You need to be careful with the knowledgist,” Khayrivven warned, tone all business, even when his hands had found her waist once more, holding onto her like he was scared she’d disappear if he let go.
“His is a skill Lenya wants for his Whispers Division. He’s already grooming Brycon for the job.
Two more years, and the boy will enter the messenger network, intercepting missives and reading their content with a touch.
” Khayrivven’s frown deepened. “Nothing will be safe from that nosy bastard.”
He paused only to brush a kiss to her forehead.
“Anees and Hadrian told me you’re making good progress with your magic.
Hadrian, in particular, is impressed with you.
” That little fact seemed to irk Khayrivven to no end, but he smoothed his expression over, reaching for the collar of her uniform and tugging it back into place where he’d opened a button earlier.
“Keep working like that, and you’ll be fast-tracked to graduate early and enter the King’s services officially as part of his Ebon Division. ”
“Ebon Division?” Lory had never heard that name, but something about it clicked, an image of a group of people in Ashthorn uniforms, none of their faces familiar.
“The King’s secret death unit.”
Lory didn’t wonder how she could see Khayrivven’s face so clearly in the darkness when her mind was racing to understand what he was saying.
“I thought I already got appointed to the secret death unit by making that bargain with the Triad to become an assassin.” She hadn’t been sent to kill anyone, but one day soon, she’d be called to action, and her hands would no longer be clean.
A bitter chuckle escaped Khayrivven’s throat.
“That bargain was your consent, but you haven’t finished your training.
” With one hand, he reached for her shoulder, running his fingers over the brown square above her bicep, then pointed at his own insignia—no insignia on his bicep.
Only the hand-shaped pin on his breast. She’d never given it a second thought, but now she wondered.
“Ebon Division. No sign of rank or training status. They call the student tutors phantoms, but it’s the Ebon Division that truly become invisible.”
“You’re part of it?” Not that she was surprised. Khayrivven had kept so many secrets that this was just another layer he peeled off. One step closer to the man hiding beneath those secrets, the man who was looking at her from behind those storm-gray eyes.
“I’m the one training new potentials. They need to undergo a different track than the rest of Ashthorn’s students. They need to be tougher, more skilled, impeccable at everything Veiled.”
“Why you?” It did make sense, considering how skilled Khayrivven was, but—“Ulder hates you because of your father’s prophecy. He doesn’t fully trust you, or he wouldn’t keep Elina as leverage.”
Black waves swayed over Khayrivven’s forehead as he bobbed his head.
“You already know what despicable things I’ve done to prove my pretend loyalty.
Ulder knows I’ll do whatever he asks so Elina remains safe.
I am the perfect tool. If word got out about the kills Ulder orders, he might lose the support of Brestolya’s nobility.
They are what keep him on the throne, and over the years, he’s been having the ones who aren’t happy with his rule …
exchanged. For as long as he has my sister, Ulder knows I’ll never utter a word, and if the truth ever did get out, I’m the perfect scapegoat. ”
Lory hated how trapped Khayrivven was in the king’s web of power, and how helpless she was about freeing him.
If she took Ulder’s deal, perhaps, there’d be a chance for Khayrivven to take his sister to the mountains and hide there with the other Flames—if there was anyone left after the massacre Khayrivven and Ycken had performed when they’d come for her.
“There’s no end to that man’s cruelty,” Khayrivven said without emotion. He’d settled for a life of regrets when all he truly wanted was freedom. His sister’s. His people’s. His own.
“I wish I could help.” By doing anything that would take some of the burden off his shoulders. And Lory made the decision then and there that she would never take Ulder’s bargain.
That softened Khayrivven’s expression, and he grazed her cheek with his fingertips the way he’d done all those months ago. “Trust me when I say you already do.”
Placing her hand on the missing square on his bicep and squeezing, Lory screamed inside her head, “I want to do more,” because doing it out loud was out of the question.
Khayrivven’s expression slacked, eyes shuttering. “Do that again.”
For a heartbeat, all Lory could do was stare back at him as he tried to unearth a secret she wasn’t aware she was harboring. “This?” She tightened her grip on his bicep again, but Khayrivven shook his head.
“Scream at me.” His whisper was a blazing trail of fire—not painful like a flame in its physical form, but bright and glowing in all hues of orange and gold.
And as Lory felt her own eyes go wide, a victorious grin spread on Khayrivven’s lips.
“I knew you were extraordinary, little Flame. From the first time I laid eyes on you.”