Chapter 24
Chapter twenty-four
I want to die. On the spot.
Mortification blossoms in my chest. Anger not too far behind. The person it’s directed at is none other than myself. How could I forget to close the fucking door? One of the best moments of my life becomes a blatant display of voyeurism.
I slowly peek my head around Ambrose’s shoulder and see Kingston leaning up against the doorframe, both hands resting in his pockets. His face is a mask of indifference, and his dark eyes are unreadable.
“How about you get out and close the fucking door?” Ambrose grinds out between his teeth.
“Why?” Kingston replies, raising a dark brow. “It was just getting good.”
“Fuck off, Adair,” Ambrose growls.
A cruel smile creeps over Kingston’s face. “As I previously mentioned, Captain, there will be no fucking of any kind today.”
Ambrose’s fists curl at his side. Anger vibrates off him in waves. I gently rest my hand in the crook of his arm, trying to defuse the situation.
Kingston’s eyes narrow at my touch. His jaw flexes tightly. “All officers are to report to the briefing room,” he says coldly, moving his glare to Ambrose. He then turns on his heel and leaves without a backward glance, shadows swirling around him in controlled chaos.
I lift my eyes to Ambrose as worry washes over me.
Briefing room? Whatever they’re calling all the officers in for on such short notice can’t be good.
“Fuck,” Ambrose mutters under his breath.
I move to stand in front of him, pulling his face down to look at me. “What? What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry, Nori. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking,” he says in a strained voice.
I pull back like he slapped me. If he’s regretting what we just did, I will burn this entire place down. “Don’t you dare apologize,” I warn. “Don’t act like this was a mistake. You don’t get to do that!”
A look of regret flickers in his eyes.
For a second, we just stand there. Sorrow etched in his features, anger pulsating in mine.
This has been his tactic since the moment I stepped foot in this academy.
He gives an inch and takes two back. I might have blinders on when it comes to him, but I’m not an idiot.
I do not appreciate being treated like one.
It feels like he’s purposely creating distance between us, something he’s never done before.
“It wasn’t a mistake,” he finally says, running a finger down my cheek. “Just bad timing. You’re a first-year, and I’m one of your captains. It shouldn’t have happened this way.”
I stare into his beautiful blue eyes, the same ones I’ve looked into countless times.
I’d give up everything. Everything. Just to live with this man by my side, no restrictions. And it seems like he’s pulling away, slipping between my fingers.
He leans down, gently placing a kiss on my forehead.
I close my eyes, bracing for the crushing blow I know is coming. A lump forms in my throat when he pulls back and retreats through the door, closing it on his way out. He doesn’t say anything. Just leaves.
Sorrow flows freely through my veins. To know what it feels like to be held in his arms and ravaged by his mouth only makes the cut that much deeper. I swallow the pain down and grab my cloak.
I need fresh air.
Frigid December air whips my hair around my face. I pull the cloak tighter around my shoulder and breathe in deeply through my nostrils. The urge to find somewhere secluded and just scream is overwhelming. Purge every emotion to the wind.
The gate creaks on its hinges as I push through.
I cut through the training field and slip into the Witchwood.
The damp ground is soft beneath my feet.
Thick evergreen branches cluster together so tightly overhead that the sky disappears.
The natural light dims as if a curtain has been drawn around me.
The woods are offering me the solace I so desperately crave.
I’m not fooled, though. It’s always a give-and-take. These woods are no different.
I know they are perilous at best and can’t be trusted.
I simply do not care at the moment. I want to forget.
Forget how much I love a man who doesn’t want to be loved.
I want to ignore the fact that I haven’t manifested.
Disregard how awful I am in every single class.
Dismiss the fact that a very broody Noctryn major despises me.
I want to pretend that coming to Kintoira Academy wasn’t one big mistake.
The problem is, I’ve never been very good at pretending.
The forest is quiet. No wind, no rustle of branches. The only sounds are the random cawing of a raven in the distance and the soft crunch of my boots walking through the snow. This place devours all the noise in my head as well.
It’s beautiful and abysmal at the same time.
This kind of silence shatters your thoughts and amplifies your regrets.
A walking contradiction, just like me.
Pushing a low-hanging branch out of the way, I step off the beaten path through the foliage and walk through the undisturbed snow. I plop down on a fallen log, the wool of my cloak protecting me from the dampness.
Ambrose always says that when I get overwhelmed or angry, I hide.
He often joked that’s why I was so introverted, because I’m usually overstimulated somehow.
He isn’t wrong. Not really. Sometimes everything is just too…
everything. Something is so liberating about just being alone.
No judgment. No repercussions. Only redemptive isolation.
It’s certainly easy to do that here when everyone avoids me.
I kick the snow with my boot and tilt my head back. I scan the tree line for even a sliver of muted sky. Small patches break through the canopy like gray freckles coating the branches. I drum my fingers on the rough bark as I close my eyes.
One second, I’m enjoying the silence, and the next, hushed voices cause my ears to perk up. Seriously? I can’t even mope in peace?
I snap my head down and scan the surrounding area.
The thick foliage hides me from view but also blocks whoever is walking this way.
As the voices draw closer, I slip off the wet log, sliding into the snow.
I try to make myself as small as possible.
I don’t feel like dealing with conversation or explaining why I’m frolicking among the sticks.
There’s also a very strong possibility that whoever it is doesn’t care for me very much, and I’m out here all alone.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” a male voice insists, urgency laced through each word.
A stick snaps in half. “I heard you. All three times,” another male replies. The second speaker sounds calm and collected, unlike the first. I don’t recognize either voice, but they’re speaking in hushed tones. It makes it hard to identify them.
“But you’re not taking this seriously,” the first one says, his voice dripping with disdain.
A loud sigh comes from the other side of the underbrush. “I am taking it seriously, Rhett. What do you want me to do? Hmm? We didn’t find it, and the other option just isn’t feasible at the moment.”
“Because you’re working with morons.”
They must have stopped walking just past my hiding place. I remain as still as possible. I don’t know of anyone named Rhett, but that isn’t saying much.
“Sure thing, brother,” the second speaker replies, his voice low.
Someone sighs, the sound short and irritated. “Did you know there have been reports that Adair was in Casacia recently?”
“Which Adair? There are two.”
“Both,” Rhett answers.
The reply comes back low and cold. “When? They’ve been here every single day. I have eyes on them within the academy at all times.”
Rhett chuckles softly. “During your Asylamation week. It was brought to my attention that there was a reported wraith attack within the city that hasn’t been made public.”
An attack on Casacia? So that’s where Kingston was coming back from that first day.
“That doesn’t make any sense. Students don’t report to active duty until they’ve graduated,” the second speaker says, clearly bewildered.
I hold my breath and slide out from behind the log. Slinking across the ground, I move closer, hanging onto every word. Snow sloshes into my boots as I crawl through the wet powder.
“That’s the interesting part… why would the military remove a handful of Noctryns from Kintoira to assist during an attack?
Not to mention, why would the wraiths be so bold as to attack a heavily guarded city?
What are they after?” A few seconds pass before he speaks again.
“The whole purpose of sending you here was to finish what I started. But I’m thinkin’ you’re becoming a tad bit too comfortable in that uniform,” he points out, a soft thud following his words as if he’s tapping the other man’s chest.
“It’ll get done, Rhett. Just like I said it would.”
“Good. I’ll be in touch.”
His footsteps trail off, leaving me once again in silence. After a few moments, the second speaker quietly follows him.
I stand and move toward the thick branches that were shielding me from their view.
As carefully as possible, I peel back the overgrown bush and poke my head out.
His steps are quick, and the distance between us is vast enough that I can only make out the back of his drawn hood.
Any kind of identification is impossible.
I wait a few minutes before pushing all the way through and following the trail back to the academy. I head straight to Finnley’s room. I need to talk to someone I trust. I have a sinking feeling this has something to do with the missing professor. Maybe even the dark object that was stolen.
The door shakes beneath my heavy knocks.
Silence answers.
Come on. Come on. Please be in there.
“You looking for Finnley?” a voice asks from behind, startling me.