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Chapter Twenty-Four

B eaufort

I click my fingers and the desk lamp switches on as I uncurl the tiny note and position it under the magnifying glass. I scan my gaze over the text, decoding the message in my head, then slump back in my chair, swinging it from side to side as I tap my fingers against the arms.

There’s been a major infraction through the magical barriers to the East of the realm. The Empress wants some of the most elite and most powerful shadow weavers from the academy to be sent to help drive the dark forces back and repair the damage. She sees it as a good training opportunity.

I scoff. They’ve been finding these suitable training exercises ever since Dray turned eighteen and the bond between the three of us formed and it became clear just how damn powerful we would be. Reading between the lines, the ‘infraction’ must be a major breach of our defenses.

Technically we shouldn’t be allowed to face any kind of potentially life-threatening missions until we have graduated from Firestone. But they’ve been breaking those rules when it comes to us for years now.

I crumple the small note in my fist and toss it towards the fire in the corner of the room. It catches in the flames immediately and is ash in a matter of seconds.

I never used to have a problem with this situation. Missions, while dangerous, are what I live for. The adrenaline, the thrill make me feel more alive than anything ever has done.

Anything has done until Briony.

I scrub my hand through my hair.

This is my duty. There is no refusal. I go willingly or I go reluctantly. It makes no difference. Go I will.

And yet, things have changed. I don’t want to leave the academy and I don’t want to leave her. Partly, because the girl has a propensity for winding up in danger and ultimately hurt. It’s more than that though. According to that note, we’ll be away for at least four weeks.

I groan. That sounds like a lifetime.

It’s pathetic, stupid, ridiculous, but the idea pains me right in the center of my gut.

I stare down at it now.

I laugh.

Who are you kidding, Lincoln?

That isn’t your gut paining at the idea of this separation, it’s your damned heart.

You care for the girl.

And it’s more than the sex. It’s more than the way her snarky words and bratty looks turn you on .

It’s more than that flash of a vision. It’s more than what the future holds.

She’s wormed her way under your skin, infected your blood and infiltrated your heart.

I raise my gaze and lose it in the flickering flames of the fire.

Am I falling for her?