I press my thoughts towards him, imagining my hands running over him, but it’s met with a cool and foggy barrier, like he’s shielding me. “Let me in,” I speak around our kiss.
He just shakes his head and runs his hands up to my face, drawing me back from him. “I can’t kiss you and touch you andhave you running riot in my mind, too.” He watches my eyes as he explains, and even in the gloom, I see.
“Because there’s more risk without the shield?” I finish the thought, and he nods.
“So—” He kisses me on the top of my nose, each cheek. “We can have all the benefits of speaking, seeing and feeling, mind to mind when we’re not touching. But when lips touch, or you want to run a hand over me, you have to shield too, outside of the new moon,” he says with a smirk tugging at his lips.
“You’ve been practising keeping me out.”
“Well, not just you, but yes, I’ve needed to train. Just like you.” He brushes my forehead with one more kiss. “Now, I really want us to leave.”
He gestures to the steps, and a boulder drops to my gut and kicks up all the panic and fear that Ten’s kiss pushed aside. Those two men came for me. And now my worry is focused on the dead body and what will happen to Ten.
Ten.
Who killed a man.
Killed. Him.
I step back and look at the body and the blood seeping onto the stone floor of the cell. My throat constricts at the memory as he pinned me down, grappling with me before he ripped my necklace from around my throat.
I’d forgotten how it felt not to have it on, its presence now a part of me, a silent force protecting me and focusing my power. The very real fear of what would happen if it’s ever taken from me again burrows into my mind, flashing back to before my Transference and the episodes that brought me here.
Ten steps back into the cell. “Don’t look, Ever.” But how can I not? He bends down and tugs at something on the man’s shirt before righting himself. “Come on.” He takes my hand, but hisgrip is tense, betraying the cost of the touch, and he walks me past the cells and up the steps.
The familiar warmth of our touch sparks, and I lean into that as I search for my own inner well of power. It’s a little fractured since the gold pendant was ripped away, and my fingers brush against the now-warm metal as if checking it’s still there.
The idea that something so important, so vital, is only secured by a simple chain makes me want to reinforce it with steel.
“What happened to the other guy?” I ask.
“He escaped, hopefully, right into a Warrior or two. Come on.” He tugs and leads me across a room and into the same staircase they marched me down when we arrived. “Kamari put you in here. But I want to speak to my father. Tell him about this and find some answers.” Ten’s voice is brisk and determined.
“Is it safe? You won’t get in trouble? They can’t put you in this cell like they did to me or anything?”
“Attacking a trainee with the intent to harm or kill is an offence that sanctions lethal force.” Ten’s voice is far too calm when discussing the repercussions of killing someone.
Okay then. “That’s pretty terrifying.” They never said they wanted to kill me.
“Your time as a trainee is pivotal to everything about your life in Kirrasia. So, great emphasis is put on it by every Kirrian. That and your Transference, are the two most important events in your life: the granting of your gift from our Goddess and then the decision as to how you’ll serve Kirrasia.” Not the birth of a child, finding your partner, or falling in love. It’s like the Kirrians put their service and duty to their country above everything else.
We emerge from the spiralling staircase into a hall within The Tower, and Ten, hand still clasped around mine, leads me in another direction, presumably navigating towards his father’s office.
“It’s quiet,” I state, the unease of it prickling my neck. Kyra told me they were under attack, but apart frommyattack, nothing seems different.
“Outside is different. The halls of The Tower are different. They’ll have been emptied.”
“Then why are we here looking for your father?”
“He won’t have left his study.”
Ten ignores the protests of the guards stationed outside of his father’s office and throws the door open, sending it swinging on its hinges. Sure enough, Orion Ciro remains in his office, staring at the map on his desk as if it holds the answers to every question ever asked.
He startles as he looks at Ten first, but his face visibly contracts, scowling as he sees I’m next to him.
“Miss Hart. I am a little surprised to see you.”
Ten drops my hand and clenches his fist as he stalks into the room. “Who are they?” He discards something from his hand, and a small silver disc bounces over the map towards his father. He picks it up, scrutinising it before looking at his son.
