Chapter 21 #3
“Yeah,” I murmured. “Maybe.” I stood and grabbed my cloak.
“Either way, I need coffee.” Gia grabbed hers too and looped her arm through mine as we headed for the door.
I rested my head against her shoulder as we stepped into the hall, letting myself breathe for the first time all day.
It was the bond. It had to be. Or at least… that’s what I kept telling myself.
Entering the feeding hall, I picked up a tray and scanned the room, and there he was.
Aiden. Leaned in close to Jasmine, whispering something that made her giggle and press against his side.
Jealousy twisted in my gut like a hot iron.
I shoved it down. Snatching up some eggs, sausage, and a coffee, I slammed my tray onto the table with more force than I intended.
“Hey, did you guys hear about that girl they found dead in her dorm?” Jackson asked as he dropped into the seat beside Gia.
I blinked. “A girl was found dead?” All thoughts of Aiden flew out the window.
“Yeah, a second year,” he replied. “Her roommate found her this morning.”
Luna leaned in, brows furrowed. “Do they know how she died?”
“No, not yet. But I think your aunt is doing the autopsy,” he added, nodding at me. I pushed my tray slightly away, suddenly not so hungry. Across from me, Ryan was still shoveling food into his mouth as if he hadn’t heard a thing.
“Have some respect, Ry,” Luna muttered, nudging him in the ribs.
“I am respecting her. By eating,” Ryan replied, stuffing in another forkful of eggs and bacon.
“You’re disgusting,” Luna snapped.
“People die every day,” Ryan replied with a shrug.
“Just because someone died doesn’t mean we all stop functioning.
” Their bickering faded into the background as my mind raced.
A second-year dead. In her dorm room? That wasn’t just bizarre.
It was wrong. Nobody just dies here. At least not like that.
What if she knew something? Found something?
Said the wrong thing to the wrong person?
I stared into my coffee, unease stirring low in my gut.
“Hey,” Alaric’s voice cut in as he sat beside me, slinging his arm around my shoulders. I stiffened.
“Hey,” I replied shortly, shoving a bite of sausage into my mouth to avoid talking.
My eyes wandered to the unit leader table; Commander Dagon stood, speaking to them.
I couldn’t hear what was said, but I saw it land.
Aiden’s shoulders tensed, jaw clenching.
Then he stood. A second later, he turned to leave, and for a split second, our eyes met across the hall.
The memory of our kiss slammed into me like a punch.
My cheeks flamed. Gods, what was wrong with me?
“You, okay?” Alaric asked, but his voice grated on me now; his warmth seemed misplaced.
“I… yeah. Just need some air,” I replied quickly, already standing.
I left the tray and my coffee behind and bolted out of the dining hall.
The cold air hit me like a wave, but I didn’t stop.
What the hell was happening to me? Between the kiss, the second-year’s death, and Firebeard’s warning about the balance of magic, my world was spinning, and I didn’t know how to stop it.
So, I went to the only place I knew wouldn’t judge me:
the alcove. The tunnel still smelled of moss and damp stone, just as it had when I first found it as a kid sneaking away from war meetings.
When I reached the balcony, the sea stretched endlessly before me, the morning sun bleeding gold across the waves.
The breeze rushed against my overheated skin, cool and soft, like fingers calming the fire inside my veins. Except the fire didn’t calm.
It flared, responding to my stress, to panic.
I felt it rising under my skin, warmth spreading through my ribs, crawling down my arms, igniting deep in my core.
My pulse quickened. Panic tried to claw up my throat.
Not here. Not now. What if I couldn’t stop it this time?
But then Deylin’s voice echoed in my head.
“Don’t fight it, Rynlee. The fire is not your enemy.”
I shut my eyes. Forced myself to breathe. In, out, in again, slower, steady, like the heat itself was filling my lungs. The fire didn’t roar to consume me. It pulsed. Responded. It was though it was waiting for my permission.
The cool air brushed over my flushed skin, raising goosebumps, grounding me in the moment.
When I finally opened my eyes, both my palms were lit.
Flames curled upward from my hands, flickering in gentle spirals, not wild or erratic, alive and listening.
The rune on my forearm glowed faintly beneath the skin, the shape of a flame illuminated in shimmering gold. A small, breathless laugh escaped me.
The fire pulsed with my heartbeat, warm and steady.
My veins shimmered with light, and for the first time since receiving these powers—it didn’t feel like a burden.
It felt like a part of me I’d been trying to deny.
I let the flames dance and unfurl, curling between my fingers, shaping the heat with the rhythm of my breath.
The stress of the day, the book, the prophecy, the kiss, the truth about Celetian, melted away.
For once, I wasn’t terrified of the fire.
For once…I felt like maybe I deserved it.