Page 157 of The Incendiary

A few seconds after I knocked, a curtain shifted in the window, and hushed voices began to argue on the other side of the wall.

I knocked again, and the door flew open, revealing Mavic Reed. He was typically easygoing and irritatingly smooth, but this morning, he had bags under his eyes, and his hair was disheveled like he’d been tossing and turning all night.

“Let me in, Reed,” I demanded calmly.

“With all due respect, Commander… no,” Mavic uttered without much respect in his expression. He looked like he wanted to punch me. I sort of wanted to let him.

“I need to talk to her.” Demands were counterproductive. I could force or threaten my way in, but I wouldn’t win back favor with Fera by pissing off her friends. “Please let me talk to her.”

He stared at me, jaw clenched with fury and disgust. He didn’t move.

“Mavic, I know⁠—”

“No, Commander Winterton, you don’t know.” Sweet and timid Mina Reed shoved her way into the doorway beside her brother, glaring up at me. “You don’t have the slightest fucking idea.”

“I do.” It had taken me hours to admit what might have happened to Fera. I couldn’t stomach it. I hadn’t wanted to. “I had… a lapse in judgment,” I explained as vomit tried to rise in my throat. “I need to talk to her.”

Mina let out a low, disbelieving laugh. Her eyes held disappointment so heavy it buried itself in my stomach, so deeply I knew it would haunt me forever. “A lapse in judgment for you is life-altering trauma for another.”

“I…” I shifted on my feet, hands open, imploring. “Let me try and⁠—”

“You blamed her for being attacked, Commander, and you refused to believe crucial information she tried to tell you about traitors in your fortress! Can you comprehend how awful that is?” Mina snapped, her watery glower filled with disdain. “She’s resting, and I’m confident she wouldn’t want to speak with you!”

Glancing past them into the room, I pressed, “Did she say exactly what happened?” They gave me silence. “Please.”

When Mina turned away, shoulders slumped, I knew I lost the fight with them both but waited, hoping Mavic would change his mind.

“Mavic—”

“Honestly, fuck off.” He paused halfway through closing the door. “And you know what? Fuck you, too.”

He slammed the door in my face.

FORTY-SEVEN

ARYELLA

The gods had mercy on me, because I dreamt of him. We were in the hot springs. My arms and legs were wrapped around him, just as they had been last time. Only this time, instead of burying my face in his shoulder to avoid the risk of temptation for us both, he held my face in his hands and kissed me. Slowly. Passionately. Unreservedly.

There was no Molochai in this dream. No Simeon. No mysterious entity with its ice-cold, bruising hands around my neck. No Elias Winterton. No war or death or blood or screaming. There was only us in the dream, I was safe.

When I was shaken awake, my pillow was damp with tearstains.

“Abram’s here.” Mina brushed a piece of hair from my sleepy face and checked my forehead for a fever. “He says he has something you need. Do you need help getting up?”

That felt like Mina’s nice way of saying, Get out of bed and start taking care of yourself or we’ll drag you out and do it for you.

I cleared my hoarse throat and sat up, wincing. “I’ll be okay.”

Abram peeked in the doorway with a small glass bottle in hand. When he saw how slowly I moved, he entered and hurried over to me.

“I’ll come to you.” He covered the distance with his long legs. “How are you feeling?”

All I could muster was a quiet “Hurts.”

His eyes warmed with compassion. “Did you take the medicine I gave you? For the pain?”

“It helped.” But it couldn’t do a thing for what hurt the most.