Page 21

“Come on, brother, let’s go before you are the root cause of the destruction of this tower.” Torin clapped a hand on Gideon’s shoulder, but no one moved.

The enchanted wind lashed at them all as they stood in a potent silence, glaring at each other.

“I was just leaving.” Gideon dragged his eyes from Emara’s face, slurring his words.

“Good,” Emara spat.

“Wait. Is he drunk?” Torin’s eyes squinted as he looked from Gideon to Emara and then back to Gideon. “Did you seriously go to a tavern without me?”

Gideon staggered and scowled, mumbling something incoherent under his breath.

“The betrayal.” Torin placed his hand over his heart. “Since when did you become so edgy and sneak off to a tavern to drink yourself into a sulk? That’s my thing,” he jested.

“Sometimes you just need to be alone,” Gideon grumbled.

Torin couldn’t hide his sly smile. “Have you even been to bed yet?”

“No.” Gideon side-eyed his brother. “I haven’t.”

Torin let out a barking laugh. “Well, you better get at least an hour in, today is going to be a long day.”

Gideon frowned and ran a hand over his face, looking sleepy.

“As much as I’d love to watch this brother bonding time, I would really appreciate it if you could take it elsewhere.” Emara flashed a false smile towards Torin. “I was busy sleeping, like a normal person at this hour.”

“Didn’t sound like sleep from my room.” Torin laughed as he put a hand around Gideon’s shoulder and steered him towards the door.

“What do you mean ‘your room?’” Emara’s brows pinched together as she followed them.

“Oh, didn’t my mother tell you? My room is just down the corridor.” His wicked lips twitched upwards and Emara let an angry exhale through her teeth. Torin chuckled. “I will see to it that my brother gets to his room. See you at breakfast”—Torin gave a lazy wave and a smug smile—“neighbour.”

Emara slammed the door shut behind them. She felt the vibrations rattle up the stone walls and through her bones.

She didn’t know what was worse, the fact that Gideon had come to her room drunk, pleading his innocence, or the fact that Torin Blacksteel’s room was down the corridor, mere metres away from her room. She marched to her bed, threw herself onto the mattress, and pulled the sheets over her body, letting out a groan. Maybe no Blacksteels would find her under the sheets for a few days.

The dining hall was full of new faces come breakfast time. Well, faces that Emara had never laid eyes on before in the tower. They were certainly hunters, but they didn’t belong to the Blacksteel Clan. The tables were stacked full of brute like warriors of all ages from all around the kingdom, clothed in different versions of combat gear.

She grabbed a block of butter as she stood, waiting for her bread to warm, scanning the room. Some were eating, others catching up with men who sat next to them, but Emara didn't want to stare for too long. They were all rather…well, rather alarming with their scars, their weapons, and their booming voices.

Removing the bread from the stove, she spread the butter across its surface, and it melted immediately. She took a bite, and the salty butter dissolved on her tongue; it was mouth-watering. She moaned.

A loud masculine greeting snapped Emara’s attention to the threshold of the dining hall door. A few of the hunters had gotten up from their seats to make their way towards the new faces that had entered.

She noted Torin Blacksteel stride over to them before being bear-hugged by a heavily inked male, who was roughly the same height as him. The male pretended to throw a few slow punches and Torin ducked them.

Emara had to admit the hunter Torin was greeting looked rather frightening as his solid frame stood in the threshold of the door. He was built like a machine of violence, but he did have a rugged handsomeness about him, a charm in his eyes. Although he was extremely handsome, Torin was even more beautiful than his friend. The genuine smile on his face lit up the whole room.

She choked on her toast and swallowed.

Praise the Gods, no one could hear her thoughts. She took another bite of her breakfast.

Another male with the same russet-coloured hair, only longer, embraced Torin too. His face was a little familiar, but she couldn’t think where from. Perhaps she had met him at the Uplift and just couldn’t place him. His features were less mature than the first hunter, but he, too, had the frame of a highly trained warrior. She noticed Kellen move over to greet him; their gazes lingered for the longest second, and then Kellen disappeared from the dining hall like he had performed a magic trick.

Emara put her breakfast down on the table in front of her. She no longer felt in any way capable of eating, even if she had promised Rhea and Naya that she would keep trying.

Just then, she felt a warm presence at her back. Turning, she almost wished she hadn’t. Gideon stood there with a shameful frown carved into his mouth.

He held out his hands. “Before you punch me in the face,” he began, “can we take a walk in the gardens?” He looked her over. “Please.”