Total pages in book: 214
Estimated words: 195876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 979(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 653(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 195876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 979(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 653(@300wpm)
"Why? What is it you're not telling me?"
He runs a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "There are things about me you don't know. Things that would put you in danger."
"So tell me."
"I can't." He shakes his head. "The less you know, the safer you are."
"That's not your decision to make."
"It is when my choices could get you killed." Raith turns away, pacing the length of the room. "This—whatever this is between us—it can't happen. Not now. Maybe not ever."
"Is this about Gareth?" I ask, gentler now. "About what happened to him?"
He stops, shoulders tensing. For a long moment, he doesn't speak. When he finally turns back to me, his expression is carefully controlled again, but I can see cracks in the mask.
"Partly," he admits, "but it's more complicated than that."
"Then help me understand."
"I'm here for a reason, Nessa. A purpose. Getting... distracted... isn't part of the plan."
"So I'm a distraction?"
"You're a complication."
I cross my arms, trying to ignore the lingering heat of his kiss. "And what exactly is this great purpose that I'm complicating?"
Raith sighs, running a hand over his face. "I don't want to hurt you."
"Then don't."
"It's not that simple."
"It could be." I take a step toward him. "Whatever you're hiding, whatever you're here for—I'm stronger than you think. And I'm already involved, whether you like it or not."
"You think I don't know you're strong, Nessa? You fucking flew in on an ancient water dragon and saved my ass when Serena and Malakai were about to kill me. You're the strongest person I know here. But that doesn't mean I'm going to drag you into my mess."
"Maybe I can help you. Maybe I want to be able to help you. You shouldn't have to face whatever it is all by yourself, Raith. You have to let someone in."
Something in my words seems to harden his resolve, wiping any hesitation from his face. "I did once. And now they're dead. I should go, Nessa." He moves toward the door, pausing with his hand on the handle.
"Raith—"
"Goodnight, Nessa."
The door closes behind him with quiet finality, leaving me alone in the suddenly too-large room. I touch my fingers to my lips, still warm from his kiss, and fight the urge to scream in frustration.
"That was... unexpected," Typhon observes, making me feel suddenly awkward. It was so easy to forget he was there, watching and observing everything.
I glare at him. "Were you watching the whole time?"
"Of course. Did you think I would leave you alone with him?"
"Maybe I wanted privacy."
"Clearly," Typhon sniffs. "Though I fail to see what you find so appealing about mating with the fire touched."
"We weren't—" I break off, cheeks burning. "We just kissed."
"A prelude to mating."
"Can you stop saying 'mating'?"
"Would you prefer 'copulation'? 'Reproduction'? 'Sexual congress'?"
I grab my practice rapier from where I dropped it and storm toward the door. "I'm going back to my room now. Feel free to not follow me."
"As if I would leave you to wander alone." Typhon slips into his fish form, wings fluttering as he swims through the air beside me. Despite his many complaints about the form, he has begun shifting into it on his own more often now. Part of me wonders if he secretly likes being so small for a change. "The fire touched is hiding something significant, angry human. I sense conflict in him—divided loyalties, perhaps."
I slow my pace, curiosity overriding my irritation. "What do you mean?"
"His pain runs deeper than those scars. Something drives him beyond simple survival or ambition. Something that frightens him more than death."
"You got all that from watching us train?"
"I gathered it from watching him look at you." Typhon's fish-eye swivels to regard me. "He fears for you more than himself. An unusual trait in humans, I've observed."
"So he's protecting me. But from what?"
"That," Typhon says, "is the interesting question."
We exit the eastern wing into the main courtyard, where evening has already settled. Stars glitter above the towers, and a fresh blanket of snow has fallen. The courtyard is mostly empty at this hour, with only a few students hurrying to their final classes or back to their dormitories, arms clutched tight against the snow, except for a pair of fires who walk with the air shimmering around them like personal heaters.
Lucky them.
I spot Serena across the open space, standing with several other fires. Her gaze finds mine, and the hatred in her eyes is so pure, so undiluted, it pins me in place like a butterfly to a board.
Beside her stands Malakai, his ruined eye covered with a black patch, his remaining one fixed on me with calculating intensity.
I expect them to approach, to threaten or taunt me as they've done before. Instead, Serena simply smiles—a slow, vicious curving of her perfect lips—before turning away, drawing Malakai with her.