Chapter Twenty-Four
The heat comes first, thick and crushing, pressing against my chest until the air curdles in my lungs. Each drag of my lungs scorches deeper. Smoke slithers in next, thick and suffocating, snaking up my throat.
I cough once, twice, violent, but it’s useless, everything inside me seizing as I fight for air that won’t come.
Then—movement.
The dark shifts.
Hard jagged shards layered so tight there’s no gap between. Each plate gleams dark green, but at the sides they burn metallic, violet fire lacing through like molten glass.
They flex, ripple, not separate but one. Rising. Breathing.
The shadow around me swells, swallowing the light. My body braces for the void, for the black hollowness I’ve seen before, those eyes from the square.
But what finds me isn’t empty.
They glow. Violet-rimmed, bright and alive, pinning me in place, pulling me open, like they’ve always known me—like they’ve been waiting.
Then shift in close and something inside me cracks.
I lurch awake.
Breath sawing, sheets damp against my back.
The room is dark, cold and silent. Moonlight leaks thin through the window, spilling pale streaks across stone walls. Opposite me, Ezzy’s bed is untouched, blankets still smooth, pillow uncreased.
The emptiness digs sharper than the dream.
I drag in a shaky breath, squeeze my eyes shut, and force myself to lie back down. Just sleep. Just forget. But the glow of those eyes linger, burning against the inside of my skull.
“Hey, is that my training blade?” Rowan calls from the foot of Ezzy’s bed, jaw tight, book in hand. “It is, Finn, I told you to stop taking my stuff.”
The Healers’ Wing reeks of boiled linen and herbs, the kind of smell that sinks into your skin, but Finn doesn’t seem to care. He’s stretched out next to me at Ezzy’s bedside like the room belongs to him, not her.
“It chose me,” Finn grins, twirling Rowans blade between his fingers.
“It’s not sentient.” Rowan snaps back.
“That’s exactly what it wants you to think.” Finn replies, hugging the blade to his chest like a long-lost lover.
Ezzy groans, dragging a hand over her face. “Enough already. I’m going to get dressed. Meet me in the courtyard for the Sermon at eleven?”
“You sure you’re feeling up for it?” Rowan asks carefully, testing the edge of her mood.
Ezzy cuts him a look. “They said I’m fine. Better than new. So yes, Rowan, I don’t want to spend another minute in here. It’s been, what, six days? At this point, even Serrane’s monthly Sermon sounds better than the stench of herbs and your constant bickering.”
Six days. The number lands heavy.
Six days and she doesn’t look better than new, nowhere close, but the healers keep saying it like words can stitch over what happened. And every time I see her lying here, the guilt claws fresh.
Ezzy turns to me, “Plus, I need to catch up with this one; we have so much to talk about.”
Shit. My throat goes dry. I can’t deal with her asking about Talen right now, not with her soft, sparkly eyes cutting right through me; I’ll crumble. I’m not ready for it, and I can’t tell her the truth—not till I have more answers myself and I know what I'm dealing with.
Still, I force a smile. “Yeah... we’ll talk later.”
She beams as Finn bumps me with his shoulder. “She’s missed you, you know.”
Only because she has no idea what I’ve done...
I just need to make it through these last two weeks. Get my mum’s journals, find out what the hell is going on with the dragons, and get home. Rhiann will be running out of Spice and then there’s Bren…
I don’t even know what I’m going back to. I’ve missed him, so much, but I don’t know what kind of missing it is because I haven’t let myself think about him. The thought of freedom, of seeing him again, it’s too close to hope. And hope hurts.
Plus with everything else going on, I have to get back to Ashvale with answers, but I need to do it without Ezzy, Finn or Rowan realising I’ve been lying. Without anyone else ending up in the Healers’ wing, or worse, because of me.
And that starts with tonight.
My date with Talen.
Something shifts at the edge of my vision, beside me, Finn’s drawn a tiny face on the hilt of Rowan’s blade and wrapped it in a napkin like a blanket. Humming under his breath, some tuneless lullaby he starts rocking it back and forth.
Groaning Ezzy snatches it out of his hands.
“Someone jealous they’re not the one getting all the attention anymore?” Finn teases. “You must be feeling better.”
She doesn’t bite, just passes the blade back to Rowan, who exhales hard through his nose.
“Do you want me to stay and walk with you?” I ask her, as if that will fix everything.
“No, it's fine, you guys go ahead.” Ezzy replies.
“Okay, well, don’t rush.” Rowan adds, “I’m going to put this blade back in my room before Finn proposes to it. Meet you all in the courtyard?”
Ezzy nods and swings her legs over the side of the bed, fingers sliding her sparkly hairpin back into place like muscle memory.
But when she stands—just for a second—her breath hitches.
A silent wince flashes across her face, gone as quick as it came, covering it with a smile that’s too bright to be real.
I pretend not to notice. But the guilt gnaws, all the same.
“Come on, Outerlander,” Finn turns to me, jerking his chin toward the corridor “Let’s go, these two are boring me to sleep anyway.”
Ezzy shoots him a look sharp enough to cut, and we head out before the arguing starts.
Cadets funnel past, uniforms brushing shoulders, as Finn and I walk through the wide corridor towards the courtyard.
Glancing across, I take a good look at him. Hands in pockets, boots dragging, black hair even messier than usual, dark circles carved under his eyes. He looks like hell. Like the kind of face you get from sleeping in a chair all night. Pretty sure he hasn’t left Ezzy’s side since the incident.
I wish I could say the same. That I’ve been as loyal.
Instead, I’ve actually been sleeping. No more nightmare reruns of Talen’s mouth on mine.
Those have thankfully stopped. The kiss is buried as deep as I can force it—every flicker of heat, every way my body reacted.
I’ve shoved it down so far I can almost believe it never happened. Almost.
As we keep walking, I shift the weight of my pack, straps digging in with each step, neck sore from twisting all night—because sleep doesn’t mean rest. Now my dreams are just… something else. Something I can’t place.
Shapes shifting in the dark, too familiar to ignore. I don’t like it, but I’ll take that over waking up choking on the taste of the Nightrose any day.
A group of Earth realm third-years cuts across our path, murmuring about today’s Sunday Sermon. Finn sidesteps without looking, yawning into his sleeve.
Can’t believe it's the weekend already, the week has blurred by. I kept the duck on me at all times, tucked close, never out of reach, but always hidden. Luckily, I haven't needed it that much; no sign of Talen. Rumours are he’s off in the Outerlands with Merrin. Fine. More air for me to breathe, more space to think, specifically around how I’m going to get the answers I need from him.
I have leverage now, but leverage only works if you use it right, and I’m not dumb enough to think that means control.
I know he’ll turn it this a game. He always does.
I was hoping Strannt, Weasel Junior, would be away all week too, but I caught a glimpse of him at lunch the other day.
He definitely saw me, but didn’t so much as blink my way. Same with Ryven and his gang. It’s like I don’t exist, like none of it ever happened.
Which is hilarious, really. Back when Talen wanted me dead, people didn’t exactly avoid me—they circled, whispered, tested their luck.
But now that everyone thinks we’re romantically involved, they won’t come within ten feet. Like I’m contagious. Like, one look at me might catch whatever curse they think I’m carrying.
My boots scrape over worn stone as we head down the main stairwell, up ahead, I spot Beth walking beside Lucien, her hand drifting slow down his arm like she wants everyone to see exactly where it’s been.
On Wednesday I sat next to her again, this time in Offensive Magic. My chest tightened when I saw her, part of me half ready for claws, considering her parents' arranged marriage plans with Talen.
But she didn’t even blink—just said she’d already guessed something was going on, from the way he looks at me, and that she wasn’t bothered.
If anything, she looked happy and spent most of class leaning in, whispering about her progress with Lucien. Not training drills. Not study sessions. The kind of progress that leaves teeth marks. She spared no detail, like she wanted me to choke on every last one.
Neither of us got called for a Demonstration that day and I’ve managed to escape being called down for another one since Ryven.
Finn wasn’t so lucky, matched against some red-headed Earth Realm cadet.
My stomach nearly hit the floor when I heard his name, but Finn had the kid flat on his back before I could blink. Guess he’s better than he lets on.
Yesterday was more working meditation. A whole day scrubbing floors in silence, trapped in my own head. Too much time to think about the last three weeks. Too much time to think, period. And today? The Sunday monthly Sermon with the guru himself, Sovereign Minister, Vaelric Serrane.
The flow of cadets thickens as we push toward the courtyard. Beside me, Finn lets out a long yawn, cracking his knuckles before rubbing a hand over his face like the act alone might bring him back to life.
I wonder if he’s slept in his bed at all this week... It’s so painfully obvious he cares about Ezzy. And she’s definitely halfway in love with him. Honestly, the only mystery left is why they haven’t jumped each other and gotten it over with already.
“You know she’s into you, right?” I mutter. “Why do you act like that around her?”
His mouth quirks. “You mean why do I act like such a jerk...?”