Chapter Thirty-Three #3
The Talen I’ve come to know behind closed doors—quiet, unfiltered, maddeningly sure—is nothing like the one everyone else sees. And maybe it’s the low light, or the ache in my muscles, or the fact that I haven’t slept properly in three nights, but I finally say it.
“I know you’re not going to tell me how you even knew about them or why you’d even take the risk, but I know it was you who dropped the Spice to Rhiann and her son before they.
.. Before the fire.” Talen keeps his gaze straight ahead, like he hasn’t heard a word, but I keep talking. “I just wanted to say thank you.”
For a heartbeat, I think I see something, maybe a twitch at his side, but just as quickly it’s gone and we keep walking in silence.
After a few minutes, the quiet presses down between us, filling the corridor and making every step feel heavier. I shift, rolling my shoulders, and finally break it. “Anyway… are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
Talen glances at me; a wide grin forms, too quick, too sharp, like he’s far too pleased with whatever he’s got planned. My stomach tightens, but as we round the corner, something in his expression shifts. He reaches out and pulls me close, pressing me against his side.
I look up to protest, but my voice stalls in my throat. Talen’s expression remains calm, but his fist is clenched at his side, my voice locked tight with it.
“Good afternoon, Sovereign Minister.” Talen dips his head in a brief, respectful bow. “What a lovely surprise to see you down here.”
I turn forward just in time to see Vaelric Serrane, the creepy guru, floating toward us in his pristine white robes.
Two of his initiates trail behind, their faces hidden in the shadows of their hoods—cadets who’d volunteered for his strange “Inner Circle” thing Rowan told me about, giving up everything to train directly under him.
“Ah, Officer Veirmont,” Serrane replies, a warm smile stretching across his face. “Yes, well, I was getting a bit bored tucked away in my tower. And what luck to bump into my favourite officer. Tell me, how are your parents?”
Serrane stops in front of us, and I get a better look at him. Even with his hood up, it’s clear he’s bald, his gaunt face etched in elegant, weary lines—not old, just… worn.
I realise I’ve never seen him this close before.
For someone so prestigious, I’m surprised how little I ever see him outside the monthly sermons, which, lately, have only grown stranger.
Finn has actually started practising some of his teachings and swears it helps when he feels low: stuff about separating your Threads, the good from the bad and crap like that.
“Yes, very well, thank you, Minister,” Talen replies. “They send their best wishes and look forward to seeing you soon.”
“You know, I was sorry to hear about your brother, Ezekiel.” Serrane’s eyes crease with what looks like genuine empathy. “But as you know, the Council outvoted me… and, well, rules are rules.”
There’s no edge, no coldness. His tone is warm, kind, even. And it throws me. I was expecting ice and power, similar to Merrin.
“Thank you, Minister,” Talen says. “I appreciate that.”
Then Serrane turns to me. His gaze is perceptive, but in that soft, unnerving way that makes you feel seen without even knowing how. I brace myself, but it’s not fear curling in my gut. It’s… peace, calmness, happiness, like it’s radiating off him.
What the hell? Maybe this is what Finn’s been talking about.
“Ah. And who do we have here?” He asks.
I open my mouth to answer, but Talen’s fist is still clenched tight at his side, and my voice won’t come.
“Cadet Bloom, Minister,” Talen replies for me. “Second-year, Air Realm. Someone I’ve become rather fond of.” He turns, and a brief smile flickers toward me.
“Oh yes,” Serrane notes in a pleasant tone. “I do recall Merrin telling me you enacted the Union Clause. Good to see you finally settling down, a nice change from your... previous romantic endeavours,” he adds, looking at Talen.
I flash a quick glance at him, then look away before he notices. God… how many people has he been with here? Not just Beth.
“Well.” Talen replies, still polite. “It’s early days. But I believe we make a strong partnership. Not just for ourselves, but for the protection of our people.”
Serrane nods, satisfied. “As ever, your priorities align with the Citadel’s. A reminder of why you remain my favourite officer.” He turns, attention shifting back to me, his smile steady. “It’s lovely to meet you, Cadet Bloom.”
He extends a hand, and without thinking, I shift mine forward to meet it, but Talen is faster. In one smooth motion, he glides his hand over mine and laces our fingers together—blocking the contact like it’s nothing.
“Sorry, Minister, I promised this one a sunset walk, and we’ll miss it if we don’t get moving.”
Serrane’s hand hangs in the air for a heartbeat too long. Then he lowers it, still smiling. “Of course. A lovely idea. Enjoy, you two.”
Talen gives another respectful bow before stepping past him and the two initiates, who haven’t moved an inch.
I try not to stare too closely at them; there’s something about the way they stand that makes my skin crawl.
But I can’t help catching the flash of red hair beneath one of their hoods.
The same cadet I saw volunteer a few months back.
We take a few steps; Talen’s fingers still interlaced around mine. Not controlling. Just... tight. Intentional. But then—
“Oh, Officer Veirmont,” Serrane calls lightly behind us.
“Just before you go…” We both stop. Talen turns his head, composed, but I feel his hand tighten on mine, just for a fraction of a second.
“Thank you for your help with that little problem last month. I always appreciate your many talents—” He pauses. “—and your discretion.”
Talen nods, then turns and keeps walking, pulling me with him.
Once Serrane is out of view, the tension in my jaw finally eases and Talen lets my voice go. I move my hand over my throat, almost rubbing it as if to make sure it’s really mine again.
“What was that about?” I mutter, staring at him, willing him to say something. Just this once.
But he doesn’t. Mouth drawn tight, eyes locked ahead, he keeps walking in silence. His grip doesn’t falter though, fingers still tight around mine, like that alone could keep me from asking again. Not that I need it; I know better than to even try.
I’m still annoyed he won’t talk, but the longer his hand stays on mine, the harder it is to stay mad. Fingers threaded steady and warm, so warm it makes my pulse pick up, a steady rhyme growing behind my ribs.
He hasn’t touched me in months. Four, exactly. Not since that first day of training, when he reached for my face and got too close. Too intimate. Too much.
Luckily, before I get any bad ideas, Talen stops outside a door.
His gaze drops, and for a moment, his expression sharpens, like he’s only just realised his fingers are still laced around mine.
He lets go, quick, stepping back a fraction.
The sudden absence of his hand leaves a hollow ache in my palm.
I take a breath, letting the tension ease slightly, and notice the door beside him.
My brows pinch; it’s familiar, though I can’t place why. But when I look back at Talen, the crooked grin has returned, sliding back into place, and I realise exactly where he’s brought me.
“Oh no, no, I don’t need to go back out there again,” I say, jaw tight. “It was bad enough when you abandoned me the first time.”
“I would’ve thought you’d have fonder memories of our first date.
” He says, grin tugging at his lips. “And if I recall, you’re the one who kneed me in the balls, so really, the bad memories should be mine.
” He pauses, more serious now. “Look, you’re getting better at control, but now you need to be able to do it in situations that scare you.
So we’re going to keep walking along this ledge until you can knot your Threads easily. ”
Fuck. I’m too tired for this. My stomach flips just seeing the door. I could say no, tell him to shove it and crawl off into bed. But what if I never get better? What if this is the only way forward, and I walk away from it again? I need control, I need answers, revenge.
I exhale through my nose. “Fine… but if I’m going to do this, give me something. You get to see everything I’m bad at, everything I’m scared of—it’s embarrassing. I never get to see yours.”
He tilts his head, just slightly. I assume he won’t answer. Then—
“Spiders.”
I blink at him. “What?”
“Spiders. I fucking hate them, scare the shit out of me.” He pushes the door open, gesturing for me to step through.
Spiders, really? I want to tease, but I'm also just happy he gave me anything at all, so I bite it down and step forward, but then I hesitate for a second.
“Is this a trap? Are you definitely not going to leave me out there again...”
“No. It’s not a trap.” He exhales slow.
“You know, Ezzy says you’re a trap, calls you the Nightrose... after the carnivorous flower. Says you lure helpless moths in, only to devour them alive.”
Talen throws his head back and lets out a soft laugh. “Well then, I guess we’re made for each other. Because there’s nothing delicate about you, Thorn.” He holds the door wider, just enough for me to step through. “Now, let’s go.”