The sun leaked through the window of the small room, burning my eyes, and I rubbed my hands over my face. I didn’t remember finding my way back from the pub last night, nor what time I’d collapsed in my bed. My jaw ached, my muscles tight and sore, knuckles red. Had I gotten into a fight?
The knock came again, followed by a familiar female voice. “Barrett? Are you awake?”
Fuck, what time was it? Was I late to training? She was going to kill me.
“I’m up,” I croaked, rubbing my hands over my face again, as if they could wipe every bit of what happened the night before from existence. “It’s unlocked. Come in.”
The door creaked open, revealing the female I was still unsure of yet owed everything to. Her long, curly black hair was already tied into a braid that tumbled over her shoulder. Her pale silver eyes roamed the room she’d set me up in, which was now a mess of the few objects I possessed and little else. She donned the black training attire of The Order, her loose black top tucked into her black trousers that hugged her legs until they were swallowed by her tall black boots.
I’d once worn that uniform, before...
“Lucia,” I muttered in acknowledgment, but it came out a bit more annoyed than I intended.
“Good morning, Barrett,” she said, her voice soft, patient, a little cheerful. She tossed a sack onto the foot of my bed. “I brought your training uniforms. You never came by to get them yesterday. I figured you might have been a bit preoccupied exploring the town.”
“Shit,” I groaned, pushing myself up, but I froze as the blanket slipped down to my hips and the cold air kissed my naked skin. I pulled the blanket back over myself. “Fuck—sorry.”
She huffed a laugh and seemed to pay me no mind as she turned to the nearby window. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
Sunlight flooded the small room as she drew back the curtains. I grimaced, shielding my eyes. What part of the underworld did morning people crawl out of, and why was their first instinct at sunrise to fucking blind themselves?
“Sounded like you enjoyed your first night of freedom,” she said, and I could hear the smile in her tone. Why was she so fucking cheerful? “Glad you didn’t take off on me.”
I cringed. What had Semele told her? Had the female run her mouth? Something twisted in my chest, and irritation at the thought of the pub owner turned to guilt. Lucia approached the bed and leaned down to my level. Before I could pull away, she lifted my chin to examine my face, and her other hand rose. Every instinct went on high alert, my body tensing of its own accord, as if preparing to be struck.
But she didn’t hit me.
Her fingers brushed my brow tenderly, and I winced.
“Get into a fight last night?”
I didn’t answer—not because I didn’t want to, but because I couldn’t remember. Semele stocked ambrosia liquor in her pub. The shit hit hard if you didn’t have a tolerance for it, and it had been decades since my last drink. I hadn’t even realized how drunk I was until I found myself in a storage closet with that female. Something icy crawled over my skin as I wondered if I’d left a mark on her throat.
She reached into a pouch affixed to her belt, retrieving a small, amber glass bottle. “I don’t care if you have a good time, but please try to stay out of trouble—for my sake.” She removed the lid and ran her fingers through the creamy contents before reaching out to my forehead. I flinched, my hand shooting up to grab her wrist. She didn’t react, didn’t draw back, and that stupid warm expression remained on her face. “It’s all right. It’s a healing salve I made.”
I eyed her wearily but eased my grip, and she spread the solution over the wound. It almost immediately soothed the sting, and my shoulders eased.
A soft smile curved the corner of her lips, as if she was enjoying tending to me, and her gaze drifted over my face, likely checking for other wounds. “I may have gotten you out of the dungeons once, but that doesn’t mean I will be able to keep you out if you do something stupid.”
My eyes dropped from her, the truth of her words leaving smoldering irritation in my chest like a wyvern who’d held back their flame. I wanted to argue, but for the first time in my life...I couldn’t. Shit, I should be grateful for what she’d done. I owed her everything. By every right, I should be rotting in a cell right now—for the rest of my life—after what I did.
“Here,” she said, replacing the lid on the container before handing it to me. “In case you find yourself with any more of thesemysteriousinjuries. Promise me next time that you make sure it’s someone who deserves it.”
I eyed her wearily but took the glass jar she offered before looking down at it. The light caught on the delicate gold chain on my wrist, the one that had nearly broken the night before. It was the only thing I had left of her, and I’d thought it lost when I was locked away. Fuck, I couldn’t believe I’d snapped on that female the way I had last night.
“You all right?” Lucia asked, the inner corners of her black brows curving upward.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” I lied, grabbing the clothes.
Her silver gaze lingered on me a moment, as if assessing whether I was telling the truth or not, but then she drew a deep breath and turned for the door. “Get dressed and meet me in the hall. We have some things to do before you start training tomorrow.”
2
BARRETT
24 HOURS EARLIER
The groan of the old wood door bounced off the stone walls of the dungeon chambers, and I winced as sunlight leaked in from the narrow passage. It was the first glimpse of light I’d seen in weeks.
