Chapter Two #3
A kiss. Slow. Certain. Too practiced to be innocent, too honest to be forgotten. And hands, his hands, exploring places that left her breathless.
She hadn’t forgotten. Not even close.
Julian leaned closer, his fingers brushing the edge of her skirt just above her knee, thumb grazing where fabric met skin.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about it,” he murmured. “The taste of you. That night.”
Cassara’s breath caught. She didn’t move, didn’t lean in, but didn’t pull back either. The room had become little more than velvet cushions, warm light, and the press of memory clouding judgment.
His other hand came up, fingers tracing a chestnut curl behind her ear. That night came flooding back and she could almost smell the cordial on his breath again, sweet and sharp.
“I’ve been wondering ever since… if it was just the wine that made my pulse race. Or if it was the sound you made when our lips met…”
Cassara’s heart gave a traitorous skip. Gods. He remembered that, too?
She hated the way heat blossomed in her chest, half embarrassment, half something far more dangerous.
His hand moved, slow and sure, fingers brushing her jaw, curling around her chin, guiding her closer. Their faces were inches apart now. His breath mingled with hers as he leaned closer, the tension between them pulling taut,
A soft chime rang out overhead, followed by the crisp crackle of arcane amplification.
“All first-years, please report to the viewing deck for initial landing procedures. Orientation to follow.”
Cassara exhaled sharply, the spell broken.
Julian’s gaze didn’t drop. He waited, just one second more, to see if she’d close the distance.
She didn’t, not quite, but she didn’t push him away either.
Instead she stood, smoothing her skirt with hands that shook, partly from restraint, partly from the echo of almost. Part of her still wanted the kiss. The rest already regretted how close she’d come.
She let him touch her. Let herself remember the garden, the way it almost felt like something real, until the warmth of it started to feel like a warning. Because none of that changed what he’d said. How he acted, like she was property to be claimed before someone else got there first.
“We should go,” she said.
She didn’t wait, instead grabbed her jacket from the back of the chair as she moved towards the door, pulse racing, skirt swaying just enough to remind him she’d let him almost have her.
But not quite.
Julian reached the door ahead of her and with all the pretense of gallant nobility, grasped the handle and pulled it open, motioning with a sweeping gesture for her to go first. She regarded him carefully before sweeping past.
He lingered a moment, no doubt watching her, before falling into step beside her with the kind of ease that made it look like she’d chosen him.
The viewing deck buzzed with noise and motion, steam rising in lazy curls past tall windows etched with pulsing glyphs. Students clustered near the railings, excitement thick in the air.
Cassara stepped through the archway, a breath slower than she meant. Her skin still burned in places she wished it didn’t.
Evie noticed first.
“You okay, Cassara? Your face is all red… you’re not feeling ill, are you?” Her concern was genuine, but it still made Cassara stiffen.
“It was warm in the lounge,” she said evenly.
“Mm,” Sonia hummed, all amusement. “That must’ve been why the lounge door was locked.”
Cassara turned sharply to glare at Julian. You locked the door?
He only shrugged, completely unbothered.
Evie gave her a puzzled once-over but didn’t push. She shifted aside with a slight frown. “You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” Cassara replied, too fast. She slid into the space between them, Julian trailing behind with that insufferable curl at the corner of his mouth, like he’d just won a round no one else knew they were playing.
From across the deck, Vash and Jonas made their approach, uniforms pressed, boots spotless, their confidence as casual as it was curated.
Julian’s lackeys. Truth be told? Cassara couldn’t stand either of them.
Jonas reached them first, his gaze swept over Cassara, slow and assessing in a way that made her skin crawl.
Julian lingered at her side with that infuriating curve to his mouth, like he was daring someone to ask why she looked like she’d kissed lightning.
And someone did.
“I wondered what you meant when you said you were going on a hunt,” Vash said as he joined them, voice light but edged with amusement. “Guess you caught her.”
Jonas snorted. “More like cornered her. Sonia said the lounge door was locked.”
Cassara’s head turned, slow. Julian, maddeningly, said nothing.
“We figured it was a strategy thing,” Jonas added, grin widening. “Old school charm, tight quarters, no escape…”
His eyes flicked toward her, not suggestive, but curious. Calculating. Testing the water.
Julian moved. Not much. Just a step closer to Jonas, his tone even.
“Drop it.”
Jonas raised his hands, palms up. “Hey, no judgment. Would’ve locked the door too.”
Cassara stepped away from the railing and let her boot clip Julian’s heel on her way past. “Next time, don’t lock the door.”
Julian winced, barely. But the corner of his mouth curved, not smug this time, but amused. Maybe even impressed.
She didn’t look back, but she felt Julian fall into step behind her. She’d let her silence say exactly what she wanted it to.
In an effort to distract herself, Cassara’s gaze lifted, scanning the crowd. It didn’t take long to settle on him.
Gideon.
He was standing by the rear railing, arms folded, posture relaxed in a way that was anything but casual. Their eyes met.
And the corner of his mouth lifted, not a smile. A flicker. Crooked. Cold.
Mocking.
His gaze dropped to where Julian’s hand brushed against the small of her back… and then lifted again.
The look on his face said enough.
How’s that leash feel?
Cassara’s entire frame stiffened.
Julian’s voice came soft beside her, low enough for her alone. “You alright?”
She didn’t look at him. “Fine.”
The lie barely scratched her throat on the way out. Her tone was cool, effortless. The kind that sounded like she meant it.
But she could feel Gideon’s stare even after she broke eye contact, could feel her pulse ticking faster than she wanted to admit.
Julian didn’t press. He shifted slightly closer, a quiet shadow at her side as the instructor stepped forward.
He was tall, composed, his dark hair tousled, his long black coat clasped high at the collar and lined with faint silver thread. His presence alone straightened spines. No crest adorned his chest, but he didn’t need one. Authority rolled off him in steady, unyielding waves.
Cassara’s breath caught.
It was him. The man from the corridor. The one she’d snapped at hours ago without realizing, without knowing.
Mortification surged hot under her skin.
“For those who don’t know, I am Auren Veth. You’ll refer to me as Instructor Veth. If I need to speak with you, I will. If not, don’t give me a reason to.”
He scanned the deck in one long, sweeping pass, his expression as indiscernible now as it had been then.
“First-years,” he said, voice low and sharp, “we are now approaching final descent. Remain in position until stabilization sigils engage. Do not tamper with any enchantments.”
A few students chuckled.
“If you experience dizziness or pressure, breathe through it. The wards are tuned to accommodate discomfort. Not dramatics.”
Julian’s shoulder bumped hers faintly, as if to ground her, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Auren.
“Touchdown will occur at the eastern landing ring. From there, orientation marshals will escort you.”
The instructor’s gaze passed over her again. If he recognized her, he didn’t show it.
Cassara’s jaw clenched. Her earlier words echoed in her head: Most people say excuse me.
Of course he hadn’t apologized. He didn’t have to.
She should’ve been embarrassed, and she was, but it curdled into something sharper. A flare of annoyance. He could’ve said something in the hallway. Given a name. A warning. Anything.
But he hadn’t.
And now she was standing there, red-faced in front of half the cohort, trying not to look like the girl who mouthed off to an instructor on day one.
Julian leaned in slightly. “You sure you’re alright?”
“I said I’m fine,” she bit out.
“Welcome to Vallemont,” Auren finished. “If you remember anything, remember this. The difference between a tamer and a corpse is often a single mistake. We’re here to reduce that margin. Pay attention.”
Cassara’s gaze narrowed, a slow breath hissing between her teeth.
Of all the people in the sky…