The night wraps around me, a silken shroud of anticipation and uncertainty. Sleep eludes me, fueled by an idea that both exhilarates and terrifies. It's a key—an invitation to unlock myriad secrets, to traverse realms beyond imagination. But it also promises pain, and I'm caught in its magnetic pull, suspended between longing and fear.
And then, as if conjured by my inner turmoil, his voice slices through the darkness: "I knew you would not sleep tonight."
Startled, I sit up. I hadn't sensed his presence. "When did you get in?" I ask, my pulse quickening.
"Just now," he replies, his eyes inscrutable.
"Oh." My gaze flits between the door and him. I push aside the quilt, clutching the robe around me as I approach him. "I am nervous," I admit.
He studies me, the corners of his mouth quirking. "Why?"
"Because once I'm free to go," I say, "you won't need me anymore."
His hand disappears into his pocket, his stance unwavering. "Why would I not need you? I can concoct countless excuses to delay your departure or persuade you to stay."
A smile tugs at my lips. "I'll believe it if you say it like that."
"How?" His voice lowers, intimate.
"Like you actually want me to stay." I glance away, searching for words. "But eventually, I'll have to return home. I don't want you to feel obligated to keep me safe."
"Home?" His gaze sharpens.
"Yes, why?" I grapple with the concept of home. He's made it clear that our connection is transient, that he wants nothing serious.
"When?" His question hangs heavy, a verdict.
My heart plummets. He won't ask me to stay. Yet, if he did, I'd defy reason.
"I'm not sure," I murmur. "Soon, perhaps."
"Soon?" His eyes bore into mine.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Do you remember when I warned you not to fall for me?"
Thud. My pulse echoes in my ears. "You didn't, right?"
I hesitate, then admit, "No. We established that."
"Then why didn't you choose Xavier?"
His inquiry blindsides me. "It's past midnight," I deflect, my heart fracturing. "Let's discuss it another time."
"No," he insists. "Now is the right time."
"I need to rest." I sit on the edge of the bed, his silhouette looming beside me. The room cloaks us in darkness, but his face remains clear.
"Alright," he says softly. "I didn't choose him because I can't give him what he wants."
And in that charged moment, I realize that perhaps I've been denying myself, too.
"Hmm." His pensive gaze hovers over me, close enough that I can feel his breath against my skin. I swallow hard, captivated by his striking features. What was once a strictly platonic connection now simmers with an unfamiliar tension.
"Then you're okay if I do this..." His lips, cool against mine, linger for a tantalizing moment.
"We've kissed before, but it feels like ages. I just needed to be sure our feelings haven't shifted."
His proximity ignites a fire within me, a passion that refuses to be contained. Maybe this is all I'll ever have from him, and for now, it's enough. My hand finds its way to the back of his neck as I respond eagerly, "That's not a problem for me."
As he settles onto the bed, maneuvering me on top, his touch sends shivers down my spine. His lips, cool and expert, trail along my jawline, drawing out a moan that I hastily stifle. But he catches it, exchanging my hand for his own as it explores every inch of my body, leaving me breathless and craving more.
In this dangerous dance, I find myself surrendering to him, losing myself in the pleasure he offers. With each kiss, he transports me to new realms of ecstasy, and I cling to the sensation, letting it guide me through the whirlwind of desire.
As we finally part, panting and spent, I can't help but giggle, curling up beside him. But beneath the surface, uncertainty gnaws at me. How did I let myself fall so deeply into this tangled web of emotions? And now, with my feelings spiraling out of control, I fear I may have lost all semblance of agency.
"How soon will you leave?" His voice cuts through the haze of desire, forcing me to confront the reality of my impending departure.
I bury my face in his chest, inhaling his scent as if trying to memorize it. "I'm not sure yet. But if I can't get a grip on things soon, I might have to leave sooner than expected. I don't know where I'll go, but I need to start making plans. It's time for me to embark on this adventure, even if I have to do it alone."
His fingers trace soothing circles on my back, a silent reassurance amidst the chaos of my thoughts.
"I want you to train me," I confess, my voice barely above a whisper.
He hesitates, a hint of resignation in his tone. "So you're serious about leaving?"
I nod, my fingers tracing lazy patterns across his chest.
"No one is chasing you."
Yet. "It's not your place to say. The council will expect me to leave. How long will it take me to become proficient at archery?"
"Archery? Two months, less if you really commit."
Two months? I need to leave before then. "How about a month?"
"Six weeks if you want to be deadly. It takes courage."
I know. Being complicit in Lavyrle's death doesn't weigh as heavy as taking a life myself.
"Okay. But I'm serious. I have to be able to defend myself if I want to survive."
"But you'll have guards," he protests, his voice tinged with concern.
I shake my head, determined. I'm not going to argue about something that isn't going to happen. I snuggle closer, feeling myself drifting into unconsciousness. "I can't rely on others to keep me safe. I need to be able to protect myself."
He sighs, relenting to my resolve. "Fine. I'll train you. But it won't be easy."
I meet his gaze, determination shining in my eyes. "I'm ready for whatever it takes."
As agreed, Aldaire trains me in archery every day, his focus unwavering. I do my best to avoid Stefani, but fate has other plans. Anastasia emerges from her room, her facade of grief finally crumbling. She's suffered greatly, but now, her emotions seem distant.
"Where are you going?" I ask, adjusting my dress.
"I heard today is your celebration, but I have to leave before I lose my mind," she replies, her eyes swollen.
"Are you okay?"
She stares at me for a moment before saying, "I'm sorry. I'll leave now. My carriage is waiting."
After she leaves, her maids gather her belongings. It seems like a long journey ahead, or perhaps she's not planning to return. Either way, guilt gnaws at me.
In the packed courtroom, I kneel before Superior Jonathan and Superior Maximillian. New faces fill the void left by the missing members, including Leo and Amber, Hart's daughter.
Superior Jonathan holds a long iron, the mark of Barracks ready to be seared onto my skin. The design—a circle with a sword melting into a tree—holds the weight of my oath. Despite what the books say, I know it won't be painless.
"I, Leizabeth Tyler, accept this mark as a symbol of my loyalty. I pledge to protect Barracks, accept the duties, and commit to follow all laws established by the throne."
The iron dips into the cauldron, releasing a horrifying plume of steam. It's not heat but cold iron that will brand me.
Kneeling on the cold concrete, I close my eyes as the iron meets my skin. The searing pain forces me to bite back a cry. Why do they keep it there so long?
When I open my eyes, Cecile grins between Jonathan and Maximillian. But nobody else seems to see her. Am I dreaming? She speaks, her words chilling. "Be prepared because this is just the beginning," she warns before vanishing.
The mark is permanent, a reminder of my allegiance. Only the Council holds the power to remove it.
I meet Aldaire's gaze, his presence lending me strength. The sizzling sensation fades, leaving a bright mark on my arm.
"It'll hurt for a few days, like any other human," Jonathan assures me.
We keep the celebration low-key. I don't want any more attention than I already have. Besides, the friends I need are either missing or absent from the kingdom.
"I am free," I announce to Himley and Aldaire when we are in the Aldaire's chambers.
"When are you leaving?" Himley asks, a hint of sadness in her voice. "I'll miss you. I've grown used to having you around."
"When my training ends. Did you manage to decipher that letter I gave you?"
The empty letter remains a mystery. Who could have sent it?
"No. We thought there might be a hidden message, but Hatti hasn't cracked it," Himley responds.
"It's been keeping me up at night. Did you find Ulises?" I ask.
"It should be a happy day, Leizabeth. Why are you beating yourself up so much? Just rest," Himley suggests.
"I can't rest. I've completed my first adventure. I can't stay still," I insist.
"Well, if you won't celebrate, I'll go on my own. Leo must be waiting for me to hunt together," Himley says, leaving me feeling defeated. So, Leo did win.
"Finally," Aldaire says as he sets his empty glass down. "We're alone now."
I smile at him, but inside, I know that Himley doesn't know about us trying to make things work. If she did, she'd hate me. Keeping it a secret is difficult.
Aldaire suddenly appears in front of me, pushing me closer to him. "You have a fever," he notes, kissing my lips softly.
"What are you doing to me? I was thinking... now that you got your mark, shouldn't we talk about making this public?" he suggests, surprising me with his sudden confession.
I push him away, feeling overwhelmed.
"I might not be what you want. But I can work on that."
"This isn't funny. You're the one who always kept us at arm's length. You're the one who never wanted anything serious," I remind him.
He seems confused by my reaction. "Why are you crying?" he asks softly, reaching out to touch my cheek.
"I'm not crying," I lie, hiding my face from him.
Before he can say anything else, Himley bursts in with Leo trailing behind. She glares at Aldaire and says, "You, sir, are in deep trouble." They exchange worried glances, leaving me wondering what's going on.
Leo seems to be as shocked as I am.
"I'll be right back," Aldaire says before following them out, leaving me alone and bewildered.
As the room empties, I sink onto the bed, still reeling from the whirlwind of emotions. My gaze drifts to his table, a territory I've never dared to explore. What secrets lie there, hidden from me? I've never truly known him, for he keeps himself shrouded in mystery. And yet, now he expects me to consider a relationship with him. After everything he's put me through?
Tracing my finger along the surface of his table, I sink into his chair, my eyes wandering to the bed we've shared countless times. The scent of an unused candle fills the air, triggering memories of her, the one he still longs for.
Does he desire me for who I am, or merely as a substitute for her? Is his reluctance to let me go fueled by fear of losing Cecile forever? No, he wouldn't use me in such a manner.
Driven by curiosity, I open the drawer, heart pounding in anticipation. Inside lies a small box, the same one he retrieved from that antique shop. Whatever lies within holds significant value, something he's kept hidden from me.
With trembling hands, I lift the lid. Is this what I think it is? Just then, the door swings open, and Aldaire stands before me, his expression troubled.
My heart skips a beat as I gaze down at the glistening wedding bands nestled inside the box. He couldn't have gotten married, could he?