Chapter 23
Elira
I woke slowly, caught between a dream and warmth.
Everything felt… still. Safe.
That was my first clue something was different.
The second was the unmistakable weight wrapped around me — a heavy arm slung over my waist, a steady heartbeat thudding gently against my back.
My eyes snapped open.
Slade.
I was curled against Slade.
And not just near him. Wrapped up in him. Somewhere in the night, I’d tucked myself into his chest like I belonged there.
Panic flared first — cold and sharp — before logic caught up. My breath hitched.
Then his warmth registered. The scent of ash and iron. The slow, steady rhythm of his heart against my back. Not danger. Just Slade.
Shit.
Before I could move, a voice cut through the haze.
“Well, good morning, sunshine.”
Leo.
I groaned, already dreading the look on his face before I saw it. I peeled my eyes open further to find Leo and Phoenix standing beside the bed, both fully dressed and looking very amused.
Leo had that stupid grin on, like he’d been waiting all morning for this moment. Phoenix stood beside him, arms crossed, expression unreadable — but his lips twitched slightly, betraying the edge of a smirk.
“I—this isn’t—” I fumbled, trying to sit up without waking Slade, which, of course, woke him instantly.
Slade blinked, looked down at me, then past me — and groaned like he’d rather face a battlefield than whatever this was.
“You two have nothing better to do?” he grunted.
“Not really,” Leo said. “This is the highlight of my day. Just look at you two. All snuggled up like newlyweds.”
“I will stab you,” I muttered, yanking the covers up to my chin even though I was fully clothed.
Slade rubbed at his face, clearly debating whether or not it was worth getting up or just burying himself in the pillow and pretending the world didn’t exist.
Phoenix cleared his throat. “Time to eat breakfast. Thought we’d let you sleep in a bit, since—” his eyes flicked between us “—you seemed comfortable.”
I wanted to die. My face flamed with embarrassment.
Slade swung his legs over the edge of the bed with a grunt. “She couldn’t sleep. She asked me to stay. That’s it.”
Leo held up his hands, grinning wider. “Hey, no judgment. Really. Just impressed. I didn't know our grumpy bear could cuddle.”
“I wasn’t cuddling,” Slade snapped.
Leo looked at me. “Elle?”
“It was strategic warmth.” I said.
Leo laughed out loud.
And then the door creaked open.
Thorne.
His presence filled the room like a cold wind. He paused in the doorway, dark eyes flicking to Slade, then to me — still sitting on the bed with rumpled hair and flushed cheeks.
His jaw tightened.
“Am I interrupting something?” he asked, voice like cut glass.
Leo let out a long, theatrical sigh. “Oh good. Daddy’s home. Now we’re in trouble.”
I scrambled to stand, which only made it worse. Thorne’s gaze followed every movement like he was tracking my weak spots.
Slade stood too, slower, rubbing the back of his neck. “We just slept. That’s all.”
“Nothing happened…” I began.
Thorne’s gaze slid back to me, unreadable. “I see.”
But he didn’t. And gods, I didn’t know how to explain it — not to him.
I didn’t owe Thorne anything. I hated him. At least, I told myself I did.
But still, I said the only thing that felt true.
“I just didn’t want to be alone.”
Something flickered across his face — a crack in all that cold steel — before it sealed shut again.
“It’s fine. Hurry up and get dressed. You’re with me this morning.” He clipped out. I rolled my eyes.
“Fine.” I ducked into my bathroom and quickly dressed. When I came out, Slade was dressed in his fighting leathers and was adjusting his shoes. All four of them stared at me as I emerged.
“Nice outfit,” Leo smirked.
I glared down at the fitted white tank and black stretch pants clinging to my frame. “It’s all I’ve got, okay? Unless you’d prefer I train in glittery skirts and corset dresses.”
“I would love that, actually. Beautiful and dangerous? Yes, please.” Leo’s grin was shameless.
Slade smacked him in the side without looking. Leo just laughed harder.
“Someone’s feeling prickly today,” he stage-whispered to me, loud enough for everyone to hear.
“I actually feel pretty good,” Slade said, surprising everyone with a full sentence. The others blinked at him. He met their stares like a dare.
Phoenix just shook his head with a faint smile.
“Don’t you have recruits to train today?” Thorne asked dryly, arms crossed.
Slade turned to him, nodded once, then looked back at me.
“Make sure she eats,” he said to the room—and to Thorne, pointedly—then gave me a brief nod before heading out.
Leo let out a low whistle. “Told you he likes you.”
I flushed, the memory of the night before burning behind my eyes. Leo caught it and winked.
Phoenix rolled his eyes, grabbed Leo’s arm, and tugged him toward the door. “Come on, before Thorne murders you.”
They disappeared into the corridor. The room fell quiet.
Thorne waited a beat, then flicked his hand toward the door. “After you, little shadow.”
I squared my shoulders, let out a breath, and started walking.
“Fine. Whatever.”
When we reached the mess hall, most of the trainees had already cleared out. In one corner, Leo stood over a cluster of red-shirted Sentinels, gesturing animatedly as he gave instructions. His lion’s mane of hair caught the light, golden and bright, even in the dim hall.
I blinked in surprise. “What’s he doing?”
“Leo’s a captain of the guard,” Thorne replied, his tone neutral. “All of us Shades oversee certain groups. He’s been working with the Sentinels on their combat technique.”
“I thought that was Vasquez’s job.”
“Technically, yes. But this is grunt work. Vasquez is a general. He doesn’t like to get his hands dirty.”
“So, Vasquez outranks Leo?”
“Not exactly. Think of Leo like a contractor. He answers to me when it comes to training, but if we were in a real war? He’d take orders from Vasquez — because the Sentinels are under his command.”
“And Slade? Phoenix?”
“Slade, yes — same deal. Phoenix doesn’t command anyone. His skills are more… specialised. Think of him as our battle mage. He’s always working on new spell work, channelling enhancements, testing limits. He prefers being in the lab.”
I blinked at him. “You’re surprisingly informative today.”
Thorne glanced at me, frowning. “You act like I don’t speak.”
“You don’t. Not unless you’re annoyed, angry, or issuing death threats.” I smirked, taking a bite of my eggs.
He rolled his eyes. “You barely know me at all.”
“True,” I said. “So, tell me something.”
“I just told you something.”
“About you.”
His scowl deepened. “Like what?”
I grinned, poking at my plate. “I don’t know. Your favourite colour? Food? Pet?”
He stared at me like I’d grown a second head. “You want to know my favourite colour?”
“Or food,” I added sweetly. “Or pet.”
His glare didn’t quite land — not with the corners of his mouth twitching like that.
He muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like this is ridiculous, but I leaned forward, chin in my hand, waiting expectantly.
After a pause, he exhaled slowly, resigned. “Green.”
“Green?” I echoed, grinning. “Like… moss? Forest? Poison?”
Thorne gave me a flat look. “Like the sea, before a storm.”
That caught me off guard. My smile faltered — just for a second. That… was unexpectedly poetic.
“Huh.” I blinked. “Alright, I’ll give you that one. Food?”
He hesitated longer this time, jaw tightening. “Roasted duck. And honeyed carrots.”
“Okay, now I’m suspicious. That’s oddly specific.”
“I don’t eat for fun,” he replied. “When something works, I stick to it.”
“Stars,” I muttered. “You really are a machine.”
“If you are done psychoanalysing me, we have work to do today.”
I groaned. “Right. The mind raping. I almost forgot.”
Thorne spun and glared at me. “Don’t call it that.” He growled.
I threw my hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry, sorry. The consensual mind invasion. Is that better?”
He rubbed his brow like I pained him. “Elle – “
I shoved the last remaining food off my plate into my mouth. Then I stood and roughly patted him on the back.
Thorne grunted as my hand smacked his back, and I didn’t miss the way his jaw clenched.
“Come on, then,” I repeated, already brushing past him.
He fell into step beside me, muttering under his breath. “One of these days, I’m going to remember why I volunteered for this.”
“You volunteered?” I shot him a sidelong glance. “Why? Thought you liked your victims quiet and compliant.”
“I don’t like victims,” he said flatly. “And I don’t like having to drag your stubborn ass into line, either.”
“Oof. That’s almost caring,” I teased. “Careful. Say one more nice thing and I might start thinking you don’t hate me.”
He didn’t answer right away. The silence stretched long enough that I started to glance over—but then his voice came, low and unreadable.
“I don’t hate you.”
That threw me off just enough to stumble over a step. I recovered quickly, face heating, and shoved my hands into the pockets of my coat. “Sure. Okay.”
We didn’t speak again as we wound our way through the keep, the tension shifting into something quieter.
Finally, we reached the room Thorne had claimed for this so-called training. Quiet. Empty. The stone walls gleamed faintly with embedded sigils, protective runes etched into the doorframe.
Thorne opened the door and held it, waiting.
I stepped inside first, pulse ticking higher. “Alright,” I said, swallowing back the nerves. “Let’s see if you can crack my mind like an egg.”
He didn’t smile. Just followed me in, closing the door behind him with a soft click. He gestured to a small cot along the wall.
“Lie down,” he said. “And try not to fight me this time.”
“No promises,” I muttered—but I did as he asked, settling onto the padded bench, heart racing louder than I wanted to admit.
Thorne sat beside me, his fingertips hovering above my temple.
“You ready?”
I closed my eyes. “Just don’t break anything in there.”