Page 62 of An Empress of Air & Chaos

“I haven’t spoken of it.”

“And no one else has laid eyes on it?”

“No.”

“Good.” His lips tugged up at the corner, showing the hint of a dimple on his cheek. “Look at us…we have our own dirty little secret.” He pulled back from where they stood. “I like it.” His eyes were gleaming like the sun hitting the ocean. His jawline expanded as he pushed his lips into his cocky smile.

“There’s nothing dirty about it,” she disagreed, screwing her eyes up as she narrowed them in on Torin’s face.

“Whatever you say, ponytail.”

She was about to say something utterly un-lady like when footsteps pounded against the floor outside the room.

“Torin!” Kellen ran back into the sparring room. “Father says if you are late for this briefing, he’s going to lash you.”

An awkward silence broke into the room, causing Emara to shift nervously on her feet. Finally, Torin broke the connection from Emara for a second to look at Kellen and then his eyes found her again. He walked backwards, still burning his gaze into her face, and then he spun on one foot and was jogging out of the room.

She inhaled deeply and then exhaled slowly. Slumping against the brick wall, she slid halfway down. Why did the Blacksteels always have to be so intense? It was like it was a family trait or something.

Our dirty little secret...

She replayed Torin’s words over in her mind.

Torin knew that she wasn’t human.

“Your eyes,” he had said.

She knew her eyes changed colour, but never in a million years did she think her eyes were a trait of a witch. Something that had stared right back at her from a mirror had always been a key to understanding who she truly was. And Torin bloody Blacksteel had worked it out before she had. A strange emotion flipped around in her stomach. But then again, her eyes were like her mother’s.

“You know someone is good by the look in their eyes. You will know if you can trust them or not; the bad can never hide the wickedness in their eyes.” Her grandmother’s voice echoed into her mind and wrapped around her like a comforting blanket. She shrugged her shoulders and closed her eyes, memorising her grandmother’s face. Not ferocious like she had seen in the vision, but calm and relaxed, like when she used to paint.

Paint!

Emara stood up straight. Grandmother’s paintings!

Emara knew exactly where she needed to go to find out if everything the Spirit Witch had said was true. She kicked off the wall and headed straight for Mossgrave.

Viktir Blacksteel had finished his briefing to the hunters in record time. Torin knew he had raced through the morning brief for a reason. He could see in his father’s face that something was bothering him, but he couldn’t work out what.

“Torin, I will see you after breakfast in my office.” Viktir’s voice was unyielding as well as his stare. Torin nodded as the clan made their way past him.

Gideon threw a look Torin’s way and an unseen thread of thought entered Torin’s mind, questioning what it could be about. The brothers were never normally separated for individual briefings. Torin shrugged discreetly.

“Gideon, I will see you after lunch,” Viktir spoke quickly and then left the room like the others.

Gideon approached Torin. “I assume you have no idea as to why we are being called in separately, then?”

“Nope,” Torin dismissed. He, too, was trying to understand why they both had different meetings. But Torin was more intrigued to know what Gideon’s meeting would be about more than his own. What couldn’t his father say to Gideon in front of Torin? Viktir couldn’t have found out about Emara Clearwater and what had happened at the markets. He had been the only one there, and she had assured him an hour ago that she hadn’t told a single soul.

“So, you can’t think of why?”

“No, Gideon, I can’t think of why Father wants to speak to us separately,” he snapped. “Maybe it’s because he wants me to monitor how many times you end up around Emara Clearwater when she’s not dressed.”

Gideon scowled, his face turning a shade of pink. “Maybe he wants to know why you are keeping tabs on me, being around Emara when she’s inappropriately dressed,” he shot back.

“I didn’t say inappropriately,” he challenged, flashing his brother a smile. “I like it when beautiful girls turn up in towels around the tower.” Torin made sure the plains of his face were smoothed into a casually smug smile.

Gideon’s jaw ticked.

---