Page 22 of The Incendiary

My fingers twitched, hungry to wield power in defense as rough hands dragged me, my toes scraping gravel, past the stone building I knew Elias must live in.

I couldn’t help but notice that the cabins looked empty and bare through their small, worn and dusty windows. If Finn’s notes were correct, Commencement didn’t start until the first week of Rainar. This year’s batch of new soldiers wouldn’t arrive for a few days. That meant I had some time to convince Elias to let me, an outsider, participate before the new trainees arrived and he wrote me off.

They took me to a dingy cellblock on the western side of the fortress, just as the captain commanded. A musty chill crept over my bones, and I winced and jerked when their careless steps splashed frigid water up my shins and into the soles of my boots.

There were four cells, empty except for my own, and the space was lit only by two torches on either side of the doorway. Dark enough that when I stood in the back of the cell, I knew they couldn’t see me. At least I had some semblance of privacy when needed.

I sat on the edge of the uncomfortable bed with no mattress and watched both guards assigned to me. One, a burly, tawny-skinned man who gripped the hilt of his sword like I might disappear and rematerialize on the other side of the cell bars, poised with the blade that they took from me at his throat. The other was a taller, thinner male with a pointy nose and shoulder-length blond hair. He looked slightly more at ease until I stood and approached the padlocked cell door, causing them to tense.

“I’m going to guess you don’t often receive unexpected guests here.” I wrapped my fingers around the rusting iron bars. Their eyes flitted there. Could they sense how dangerous my hands really were?

They kept silent. I tapped my boot on the hard stone floor.

“What’s he like? Your… commander.” The word slid off my tongue with unintended anger. They shifted uncomfortably. “You know, I’m really just trying to make conversation.”

The dark-skinned guard’s eyes darted between me and his counterpart. “We were instructed not to speak to you.”

“Oh, that’s a shame.” The faint rapping of my fingernails on the metal bar echoed off the walls of the room. “I was hoping to make some friends.”

The silence was broken only by the steady drop of water leaking from the corner of my cell.

I cleared my throat loudly. “May I have a drink?”

Little did they know I could snatch the water out of the air with a flick of my wrists, but that would give me away.

“Please.” I feigned my best pout. “I’m quite parched.”

The blond guard sighed in annoyance, stood, poked his head out of the cellblock door and muttered something unintelligible to someone outside. Pride had me biting my tongue to suppress a grin. They deemed me threatening enough for guards on both sides of the door.

Someone handed him a metal cup of water. He brought it to me with caution. I drank slowly while locking eyes with him. His attention dropped to the pulse of my throat with each emphatically large gulp. My hooded black cloak left hardly any skin exposed, but he stared anyway.

“Refreshing. Thank you.” With a sweet smile, I handed him the cup. “I pray Commander Winterton is half as generous as you are.”

Scarlet flushed his pale cheeks as if he didn’t realize his eyes had wandered.

Months ago, roving gazes and licentious stares from strangers had made my stomach churn in the most unpleasant way. Months ago, I hadn’t known how to defend myself against predators. Now, I dared them to try me.

Maybe I’d grown arrogant, but there were worse things than being the object of someone’s desire. Like being tortured by shadows so unnatural and evil they offended the gods by simply existing. Like betrayal and heartbreak. Like not knowing who I was.

I retreated to the back of my cell and sat cross-legged. I ate when they fed me and tried to make each set of guards as antsy as possible while Shera kept me company in my head.

Twelve hours later, the moon was a luminescent orb in the pitch-dark sky. They dragged me to the center of the cellblock and shoved me to my knees, then bound my wrists and ankles with rope.

The first male guard I took down on my way in here—one of the Sharpe brothers—held a cup to my parched lips. I vigilantly followed him with my eyes, though with my hands tied behind my back there wasn’t much I could do besides wield power I didn’t want them to see.

When I was finished drinking, I started to thank him, only to have the rest of the water tossed in my face. I blinked the cold droplets out of my eyes to find him staring down at me. His sneer faded when the door to the cellblock opened and the other soldiers parted to make a path.

It didn’t take a scholar to figure out who was about to walk through that door.

Blood rushed into my ears. Fire pooled in my cheeks. If I had never met Gavin Smyth, the sight of Elias Winterton might have been enough to make me forgive Simeon and Elowen for keeping me ignorant and locked up in Warrich.

He was breathtaking, with a clean-shaven jawline that could cut diamonds. Almost as tall as Gavin and ripped with lean muscle, he was intimidating but unscarred. Beguiling, but approachable. Gemma had been right. Running your hands through the sensual waves of that thick bronze hair would be something.

Gods, he really was beautiful.

His fighters bowed their heads respectfully, but I wouldn’t cower. Not to anyone. Especially him.

Entrancing eyes of blue-gray studied me. Alluring, but chilling, like ocean mist.