Page 98 of Emylia

“Bastian…”

Those firelit amber eyes missed nothing—like every secret I’d ever held had already been whispered to him in the dark.

“It’s okay, Em,” he murmured. “I’m fine.”

Liar.

He wasn’t okay. Not even close. His voice was calm, but his eyes—Gods, those eyes—were fractured stormlight.

“No worries, chief,” I said, letting the nickname hang, wicked and knowing.

He winced. Jaw clenched.

Good.

He hated it when I called him that—said he hadn’t earned it, that Thrainn’s legacy wasn’t his to take. Especially not over Evie.

But we both knew the people wanted him. Nexus, they’d beg him to lead. And he’d still say no.

Too honorable.

Too stupid.

Too Sebastian.

Maalikai, who’d been silently watching with arms crossed, cleared his throat. “Not getting any younger over here.”

“Or prettier,” Sebastian tossed back instantly.

I let my hand trail up Sebastian’s chest, stopping over the steady beat of his heart. “Simmer down.”

His gaze collided with mine. “You know me. I only have two settings—barely contained rage and…” He paused, eyes flicking to my lips, “...something worse.”

“You’re impossible,” I said, though the smile pulled at my mouth before I could stop it.

His fingers found mine, lacing gently over his chest. “And that’s why you love me.”

I turned away, dragging my hand with me, head shaking. “Impossible,” I muttered under my breath.

Because he was right.

His soul mirrored mine—explosive, unapologetic, catastrophic.

And I loved him for it.

I jogged to catch up to Maalikai. “Whoa—wait up there, commando.”

His eyes met mine, thunderstorm-bright. “Never call me that again.”

My grin was instant. “I think it suits you.”

He ignored me, stopping in front of the first line of trees in the Aelinthian Forest.

An oddly familiar hum curled against my skin.

Magik. Ethereal.

I paused, laying my palm against the bark of the nearest trunk. When I turned, our eyes locked—his cold, mine burning—and something between us snapped taut.

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