Chapter 26
CHAPTER
My chest felt too tight, cornered by the eyes of the two men who made my head heavy with thoughts and confusion.
Lionel was still watching from the other side of the ballroom, shoulders tense, jaw set.
The distance between us was like a chasm, but I couldn’t even begin to cross it—not with the weight of the fear of causing more damage between us, not with my own heart pounding like it was about to set me on fire from the inside out.
“Well.” Ashley appeared at my side, like a spark catching dry powder, looping her arm through mine before I was able to react. She was grinning like a cat who found a whole pantry of cream.
“That,” she whispered, dragging me towards the edge of the floor, “was the hottest thing I’ve seen all week. You, miss girl-on-fire, are officially a war crime.”
I blinked at her, heat still burning under my skin. “Ashley—”
“No, no, don’t even try to play innocent.” She lifted her eyebrow, casting a pointed glance at Malakai, who was still standing where I left him, hands clasped behind his back, entirely too composed. And then at Lionel, whose glare could cut steel.
“You’re glowing, Ethalyn. Literally, look.” She gestured to my hands, and sure enough, tiny sparks were still dancing at my fingertips.
I snatched my hands back against my skirts, mortified, but Ashley cackled.
“Relax, if anything, you made half this ballroom fall in love with you.” Her voice lowered conspiratorially, as she leaned in.
“And, judging by those faces—” she jerked her chin at Malakai and Lionel.
“—you might’ve started a war between those two.
Which, for the record, I fully support, as long as I get a front-row seat. ”
I groaned, pressing my free hand to my face. “You are not helping.”
“Oh, I’m helping,” she chuckled cheerfully, tugging me towards the refreshment table. “Trust me, what you need right now is a drink and someone to tell you that you just owned this entire ballroom. Leave the brooding boys to sort themselves out. Or fight. Preferably with their shirts off.”
Despite myself, I laughed, a short, shaky sound that loosened something in my chest. I adored Ashley, she always knew exactly what to say to cheer someone up.
She was my knight in shining armor, and she was well aware of it.
I watched happily as many of the Aetherions invited Mey up for a dance—and rightfully so, she looked stunning.
Nate stuck to chatting with people, rather than dancing, almost acting a bit nervous.
Right, none of us were used to this, we were used to starvation and muddy slums…
at times like these, all of that felt like a horrible nightmare that we had awoken from.
Eve kept to the sideline, I wondered if she had even allowed herself to relax and dance, or if she was too busy eyeing Lionel still.
The ball was drawing to a close, with polite applause and the faint smell of smoke from too many candles. Some people kept dancing, others scurried away, but Lionel was nowhere to be seen.
“I’ll be right back,” I nodded to Ashley. She waved at me, gobbling down a drink before she went to prank Nate.
I found him outside, on a balcony that faced towards the gate, staring at the moonlit village as if it personally offended him. The night air was cold enough to bite, and the stars overhead were too bright, too sharp.
“Lionel?” I kept my voice soft.
He didn’t look at me. “Shouldn’t you be inside? With him?”
The words struck like a slap. “What is that supposed to mean?”
He finally turned, and his expression was something I had hardly seen from him; not only anger, but hurt so raw, its only rival was his face in the forest when he had seen my fires the first time.
“You think I didn’t see it?” His voice was low, shaking. “The way he looks at you? The way you let him look at you?”
I flinched. “I didn’t let—”
“Yes, you did.” He stepped closer, the space between us crackling worse than my fire ever could. “I’ve been watching your back since we were kids. I know you better than anyone, and tonight—” His breath caught, his fists clenched. “Tonight you looked at him like you used to look at me.”
“That’s not true.” My voice was sharper than I intended. “I can’t… I don’t feel anything for him. He’s… he’s Malakai. He’s arrogant, cruel, and—”
“And before he was just the Lieutenant, not Malakai,” Lionel snapped, cutting me off. “Don’t lie to me, you’ve done plenty of that already.”
The words hung between us like a blade. My heart pounded, my throat tight, but I couldn’t force a response past my lips.
Lionel exhaled, harsh and frustrated, running a hand through his auburn hair before stepping back. “You know what? Forget it. Forget I said anything.”
“Lionel—”
But he was already turning away, striding back into the ballroom, leaving me alone under the moonlight with my own twisting thoughts.
I clenched my fists, sparks flaring unbidden at my fingertips, and I pressed them against my skirt until they snuffed out.
I didn’t feel anything like that for Malakai.
I didn’t…
I snuck away from the ball, leaving the others to celebrate and have fun a bit longer.
Once back at the inn, there were new clothes placed on the small table by my bed.
I rushed out of the dress, throwing it aside together with my guilt and shame.
I stroked my hand across the new clothes, they felt soft and cozy compared to the leathers.
Yet, I wasn’t sure I wanted to trade my uniform for them.
I knew how to move around fine in my own clothes, they were familiar.
I pulled the soft clothes on to use as nightwear instead, spacious light pants with a shirt to go with it.
My pulse was still racing from all the excitement, all the new things we had seen, as well as the argument I’d had with Lionel, which in other words meant that I couldn’t go to sleep yet.
I crawled up onto the bed, it was so soft and cozy that a sigh escaped me.
I sat in the middle, pulling the covers over my legs and let the warmth spread. How long had it been since I’d slept in a bed? Or since I was comfortable at all for that matter? But the room was silent… too silent. Outside, I could hear the wind howling, crickets singing.
In here felt empty.
I debated going to find one of the others to chat while I waited for my nerves to calm, but my eyes caught something moving. I shifted, nervously as I focused my eyes. Then I caught the thinnest thread of red, hovering in the air in front of me.
“What?” I murmured, tilting my head to see if it led somewhere.
It didn’t. It was simply a floating red thread. Suddenly, it pulsated with a faint glow.
Slowly, my hand reached for it and as soon as I touched it, I felt a firm grip on my hand and Malakai appeared out of nowhere.
One heartbeat he wasn’t there, and the next he was sprawled on his stomach across my bed.
His head propped lazily on one hand, looking as if I’d summoned him, like this was all some game.
I jolted backwards, but he kept a firm grip of my hand as he smirked at me.
“Curiosity killed the cat,” he said, tilting his head.
“What? Something happened?” I leaned forward, staring at him for answers. His hand loosened a bit.
“No,” his voice was lazy, infuriatingly calm. “The only disaster here is how badly you want to touch me.”
My cheeks heated. “I was not—”
“You touched my magic?” he teased, eyes locking onto mine. “That’s like an invitation in itself.”
I bit my lower lip, trying to find a snarky reply, but I was distracted by his thumb making slow circles over my knuckles.
“Arrogant demon,” I muttered.
He chuckled low. “If I was truly unwelcome, you would’ve burnt me to ashes by now, sweetie.”
I huffed at him, yet I didn’t pull my hand out of his. There was an odd, calming feeling about it… had he known I was uneasy and came to soothe me?
“Why are you here, Malakai?” I asked quietly.
He tensed briefly, before he reached up, slow and deliberate, to sweep a stray strand of hair from my face.
“You’ve never said my name before.” His touch lingered longer than it should’ve, his fingers ghosting against my cheek before falling away.
I swallowed. “I hadn’t noticed.”
He laughed under his breath, but it wasn’t mocking, more like he found me unbearably fascinating. “Liar.”
My chest tightened, caught between the memory of Lionel’s coldness after knowing what I am and the way Malakai’s gaze burned, like he could see every hidden piece of me and wasn’t afraid.
His grip shifted, not tighter, only… firmer. “Do you want me to leave?”
The question wasn’t a taunt, it was an out.
“I…” I hesitated, hating that I was uncertain. “I don’t know.”
He smiled then, sharp and wicked and just a little soft. “Good.”
Instead of letting go, he moved closer, slow enough that I could’ve stopped him at any moment. He sat up, still holding my hand, until we were nearly eye-level.
“If you want me gone,” he said, voice dropping to something darker, quieter. “Say it. But if you don’t… stop pretending you do.”
My breath caught. He didn’t press closer, didn’t force me, didn’t demand. He merely… waited.
Something in his expression softened, once he realised I wasn’t going to tell him to leave, almost relieved, before he finally let go of my hand.
For a moment, I thought he might’ve changed his mind and was going to leave, but instead, he reached for the edge of the cover and tugged it over me, pulling it up with provoking care.
I blinked. “What are you—”
“Tucking you in,” he said, his smirk returning, though his voice was lower now, quieter. “Can’t have you falling apart before tomorrow.”
He stretched out on top of the covers beside me, one arm folded behind his head as if he had every right to be there. Not touching me, not quite, but close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from him.
I turned on my side to face him, frowning. “You’re staying?”
“Obviously.” He shut his eyes like it was the most natural thing in the world. “You think I’d leave you here alone with that storm in your head?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Since when do you care?”
He cracked one eye open, grinning in that maddening, knowing way. “Since you touched my magic. That makes you my problem for the night.”
I rolled my eyes, but my chest was strangely warm, not with irritation, but something else.
“You’re insufferable,” I muttered.
“Mm.” His grin widened as he shut his eyes again. “And yet, you’re still talking to me.”
I wanted to argue, to tell him to leave, but the weight of the day pressed down all at once, and somehow his presence, solid and steady, kept it from crushing me.
The room was quiet, except for the even rhythm of his breathing. Against my better judgment, I let myself relax, my eyelids heavy.
“You’re not supposed to make me feel… calm,” I said quietly, almost to myself.
His voice was softer now, almost a murmur. “Maybe I’m not supposed to, but you needed it.”
I glanced at him, his eyes were still closed and at ease, like some dangerous creature pretending to nap, only so that I could.
And against all reason, I let sleep take me with him there.