Page 22

Bria

I drop to the bed and fling my body backward.

Today was spent the same as the last five.

I rose early, before the rest of the inhabitants in the inn, for a morning run, letting the freezing fucking air wake me up and fill my lungs before practicing with the bones and Cato.

I stayed in the chilly graveyard each day as the sun arced across the sky and spent the evenings visiting with Ash, talking in her room.

I spent the nights dreaming of Nimai. As her birthday draws closer, she is becoming an ever-present part of my nights.

I’ve been avoiding the others. Especially Ev.

Ash had been kind and understanding when I explained how I felt about him.

I told her all of it. I told her that I wanted him.

Badly. And that being close to him, being around him, made it so much harder.

That I didn’t want to do anything stupid, not with so little time left.

I was determined not to hurt him, and surprisingly Ash agreed.

So, it was just easier to steer clear of him for now.

The feat was only made easier by the new villagers.

They needed a great deal of training as most of them had never held a weapon before, let alone fought anyone.

And Evander and Quinn have been busy with long days of training.

It's allowed me to focus on my own training, to throw myself into mastering reanimation. Cato will be leaving in another day, and I need to spend as much time as possible with him.

After the first session, I woke the next morning to find my energy stores entirely refreshed.

It was odd for sure, but since then it’s continued to happen.

The reanimating has been draining me far more than any other power I’ve wielded but I wake up and can manage to practice again the next day.

I’ve still declined to pull energy from anyone to practice—I fear what draining energy from Cato would do to the old man—but I did manage to make the skeletal warrior move more today.

So I am making progress, nonetheless. Even without the additional boost.

I think back to my earlier session and close my eyes, letting the memory sweep over me.

I imagine the long line of stark white bones against the gray sky.

How the skeleton bent at his knees and waist to pick up the long blade I had placed in front of him.

How he turned it over in his hand, the joints in his wrist and fingers seamless with each movement.

The fluidity with which he wielded the weapon— I wielded it.

Me. Because it was my mind that controlled the warrior.

The idea of that makes an unabashed smile burst across my face. The accomplishment of today has me giddy. With more energy, who knows how many dead could be raised, how many could be commanded? Perhaps an entire army of the dead will follow me into battle, I muse.

My stomach growls loudly, interrupting my thoughts, and I spring from the bed, suddenly ravenous.

In an effort to avoid Evander, I’ve been waiting until after dinner to go eat with Ashbel.

My stomach has protested every day, angry at me denying it food when it’s worked so hard with the bones.

I stroll to the washroom and clean up before leaving to find Ash.

After scrubbing the dirt out of my nails from digging my fingers into the partially frozen ground, I throw on a loose sunflower-yellow tunic and a clean set of warm leggings.

Padding down the hallway, I feel the cool wood of the floor on my bare feet, but it doesn’t bother me in the least. I’m always warm now.

The energy inside me is constantly pulsing and vibrating, the warm ball inside my core spreading throughout my body, though the glow is dull now after a day of using my magic and burning through my stores.

The heat remains, and I imagine there are tiny heat footprints left behind me as I walk the halls.

I come to the end of the stairs and make my way across the main dining room, empty aside from two commanders sitting in the corner, deep in conversation.

I make a point to smile at them, a small greeting, and keep moving.

I catch a glimpse of Ash ducking into the parlor down the hall and follow.

We’ve occasionally taken meals or drinks in the parlor with Evander and Quinn in the past, wanting privacy from the rest of the crowd, but we have been eating in her rooms as of late.

Maybe Ash decided to set up our dinner in there for tonight, warm and cozy by the fire.

That would be nice. But as I come to the doorway, my body stalls, unable to take a step into the room. My legs just stop working.

Evander’s face is drawn with exhaustion, short bits of stubble breaking out all over his chin and neck.

He looks anguished as he sits leaning forward, hands falling between his knees.

Straight locks of chestnut hair fall in his face and creep over his eyes.

Quinn sits across from him, reclined in a cushioned chair, the back rising above his head.

His hazel gaze is lost, staring at something unseen, some memory in the back of his mind.

The room feels tight, their stress palpable as I halt in the doorway. None of them are speaking and I wonder what they were talking about before I got here that made my normally easygoing and comforting group of friends so visibly distressed.

Ash turns from the chair she’s standing beside as she hears me approach.

Her gaze is pleading, begging me for forgiveness, gleaming emerald pools filled with apology.

She hadn’t meant to ambush me like this, with Evander.

I force a small smile and brush her arm lightly as I walk past, positive there is no ill intention from her.

No. Something bad happened for them all to be sitting here, and I intend to find out what it is.

I meander into the room to find a free chair and my body tenses as I pass Evander.

He’s so close that I could easily stretch out my fingers and drag them through the tousled mess of silky locks.

I feel his eyes lingering on my back as I move to the empty seat by the fire, curling my legs under as I climb into the overstuffed chair.

It’s snug and warm from the heat of the flames.

No one speaks as I adjust myself in the seat, tucking my bare toes beneath me.

Brushing my fingertips along the crushed velvet arm, I stare down at the chair, a faded sky blue, likely a beautiful color years ago. “Is it Nimai?” My voice crackles with nervous energy, and I focus on a single brass button sewn into the arm, circling it as I wait for a response.

“No,” Ash assures me. “Of course not, Bria. Why would you think that?” Concern blossoms in her voice.

I release the breath I was clutching on to, pushing it out deeply from my aching lungs. “I’ve been dreaming about her. For the last few nights,” I admit, still hesitant to look at any of them.

“As far as we know, Nimai and your mother are fine,” Quinn begins, his voice deep and quiet.

“A few of our soldiers were killed while out on patrol. Their bodies were on the road just past the village we evacuated. Put on display with the mark of Vaohr burned into them, like the ones from the other day.”

“Another warning,” I respond, and Quinn drops his head into his hands, nodding.

He drags his fingers through his shoulder-length hair, the ebony strands free from the usual knot he wears.

Ash sinks into the chair next to me, skirts spilling over the arms in a pool of burgundy.

She’s watching Quinn closely, analyzing his features.

Only Evander looks at me. His molten eyes watch me with a curiosity and intensity I never knew possible. I swallow, meeting his gaze.

“Have you told Cato about the dreams?” he asks, his voice gentle and husky.

I shake my head, feeling strands fall from my braid with the motion. “I’ll mention it to him in the morning.”

Evander nods, though he continues to stare.

I shift uncomfortably and stretch my back, suddenly very sore from the day and wanting a reprieve from his gaze.

As I twist in the seat, the tunic slides up and I feel the warmth of the fire on my bare skin.

I look back, noticing his eyes flick to the exposed flesh, his jaw flexing.

A flush creeps into my cheeks, heat flaming them, and my chest tightens as he drags his eyes back up to meet mine.

The issue isn’t his reaction to a small show of skin.

It’s that I wanted the reaction from him.

I stand quickly, lifting myself from the soft velvet, and say a terse goodnight to the group, swiftly gliding through the halls to scavenge some leftover dinner from the kitchen before heading up the stairs to my room.

I’m eager to leave my solemn friends and the weight of Evander’s stare for now.