It’s the first time I’ve smiled all day. And, if just to forget that blanket of sorrow from earlier, I drop my shield around my mind and search for her emotions.
Bright and glaring, embarrassment lights her up. But something else as well, something I don’t recognise from her.
“I’ll see you later on,” I say as I walk past and head for my room.
The cold bath doesn’t help. Because as I eased into it, all I could think about was her.
Her body and her fucking breasts through that damp top make my cock twitch.
I hate myself for imagining her as I stroke myself. With my hand wrapped around my length, I let my eyes slide shut, picturing her touching me as I find my release. All pretence of control evaporates, and while that high is fleeting, the drop on the other side is fucking huge.
I’m selfish because I want her, crave her, despite my own sanity, apparently. Because to be with her, I’d have to either learn to block what she does to me when we touch, or survive only being able to touch her under a new moon. And right now, that feels nowhere near enough. Yet, the possibility of being thrown back into a vision of the future helps keep my desire in check.
We’ve been walking a tightrope since the first moment I laid eyes on her. And it’s only narrowed and become more precarious. That pull towards her has only grown stronger through everything, each graze of her skin, each lingering stare. The drive to look out for her is now a permanent part of me, melded against my chest bone like it’s something that’s always been a part of me. And I still don’t want her out of my fucking sight.
Today wasn’t the same kind of pain as when we connected in the classroom. This vision was so much worse because it washerpain, not mine. And she was right. She was dying in that vision. I didn’t just see it. I felt it.
We have no idea if that future is just a possibility or not. And that is fucking terrifying.
I arrive purposefully late and make it through dinner. Mercifully, Ever isn’t in the hall. Micah, on the other hand, joins me and starts running his mouth about something.
Capella wants to work with us. She doesn’t want to be in the same position as Ascella. That’s about all the information I pick up as I finish my food, nodding at random intervals.
But all I can do is think about Ever. About practising again with her, and if I’ll see that vision of her dying again. Something inside of me needs to prove that vision—that possibility—isn’t the only thing we’ll see.
“I’ve got to go. Thanks for the update.”
“Wait, Ten.” Micah stands with me. “You’re not the only one that cares about her, you know.”
“I didn’t?—”
“Here.” He dumps three hefty books onto the table that were next to him on the bench. “These are for her. I assume that’s where you’re going next.” His brows rise in question.
“What are they?”
“More books from the library with references to Fifths.” He pauses. “She wants to know. She’s had enough secrets kept from her.” For a second, I study him, guilt unfurling in the pit of my stomach because I’m holding out on her.
Does he know?I focus, as if listening intently, and scan for any spikes of emotion or thought from him, but there’s nothing.
“Thank you.” I grab them and leave.
Going to her now, when my thoughts and emotions are all over the place, is a bad idea. But I can’t talk my body out of heading right to her room.
Shit.
I knock on her door, but there’s no answer. So, I concentrate and attempt to feel for her or sense any kind of emotion. We’ll be doing that later, anyway. And now, it feels easier somehow. Like I’ve committed what she feels like to memory, and sensing her is becoming instinctual.
Cold. Not sorrow or sadness.
Nothing else, but she’s inside. Risking it, I open the door and walk into the chilled room.
She’s sitting on the bed with Kyra, their hands held loosely between them, little flurries of snow picking up and dancing around them.
I watch for a moment, the light from the candles catching in her hair and highlighting the copper and red-bronze strands.
Her breathing is even, and there’s no pain on her face. She looks calm. Peaceful. And I’m hit with envy, wild and angry, as I wish I could have that with her.
Kyra clears her throat, her eyes spearing me.
