Page 20 of A Sky of Storms
“I want fifty more!” I barked at my minions, cutting Flynn off.
A communal groan rose from the Potentials, but I ignored it. I’d show Kendra and the rest of them that I was made to be king. My parents nominated me because they knew that, and soon the rest of the world would too.
Itwaseasytoremain hidden when you had the ability to camouflage with your environment. The green shimmer coating my shoulders and back helped me to blend in, but the downside was that I had to be butt naked for full concealment. The people I passed couldn’t see me, but that didn’t make it any weirder to have my dick out in public. I’ve had the ability my whole life but it didn’t change the fact that stripping to my birthday suit with a bunch of people around felt pervy as heck.
Adaptations were common in Terrulia, though not universal the way powers were. Each city tended to have residents with similar adaptations, which was usually why they lived where they did. Stormcrest City inhabitants were more likely to have wings or gliding membranes, while Tritosa City was home to those who had gills or fins so they could swim unhindered in the ocean. There were also adaptations that were entirely random, like mine, and then there were people who didn’t have one at all. Our gifts were weird like that.
Our magic was similar to adaptations in that locations tended to have clusters of similar abilities. Unlike adaptations though, magic could be easily concealed and was more diverse. Think of any possible power and you’d find someone in Terrulia who could wield it to some degree.
I rubbed my side and frowned, irritated by the bruise Zane had given me from sparring. It was frustrating not to have access to my restorative power. Not being able to heal meant I had to rely on the doctors here and they refused to heal anything that wasn’t serious. Really nice people, you know?
A shudder ran through me. If not being able to heal quickly wasn’t enough, the air-con was amped in this place, the hallways consistently frosty, which was just dandy when I had no clothing. I cupped my junk and refocused on my target.
Mark Leroy.
I’d followed him back to his room after dinner in the caff, which my growling stomach wasn’t too pleased about. I’d skipped eating just so I could lurk near his table and listen in on his conversation with his friends. They’d mostly talked about training and the upcoming trial, but then he made a flippant comment about meeting someone and now here I was; standing butt naked outside his room like a creeper, waiting for him to re-emerge.
Mark was from the Verdant Plateau like me, though he was from a family that had only come into wealth and influence in the last few years. One day no one had heard of the Leroys and the next they were attending the most exclusive events and spending credits like an oak tree dropping leaves in Autumn. The Leroy family’s rise to fortune wouldn’t have bothered me normally, but the sudden wealth coincided with a string of robberies concerning precious minerals and an increase of missing people around the Verdant Plateau.
Missing people like the Robinson twins, whom I’d grown up with and loved. They were orphans but they were as much family to me as my own blood. My mums had all but taken them in when I was younger, feeding them, giving them a bed to sleep in when times had gotten tough … they were sick with worry for the girls and so was I.
Katie and Rena weren’t the only ones missing either. It’s like someone was targeting our people from the Verdant Plateau city on purpose, picking out isolated members of the community and kidnapping those too weak to defend themselves.
The local police said they were looking into it. I called bullshit. Something wasn’t adding up, and my instincts were pointing to Mark and his flourishing little family.
Unfortunately, I had no evidence of their involvement, which is why I’d decided to join the Terrulian Trials. Once I found out Mark had been nominated, I was all in.
I didn’t want to become king. There was nothing about the role that interested me in the slightest. The Verdant Plateau was self-sufficient and the land was bountiful. We traded amongst ourselves and only reached out for things our citizens didn’t produce, like phones and porta-bracelets. We were part of this country, but for the most part, we kept out of its affairs. House Ceres—my house—was known for its fair and honest leadership. My mums cared for the people of Verdant Plateau as though we were all one big family. My older brother, Wren, would follow in their footsteps and was already adored by the people, whom he loved in return. We were a respected family not because we were wealthy, but because we earned everything we had. The people trusted House Ceres to look out for their best interests, so that’s why I was here trying to do just that and keep them safe.
Footsteps sounded down the hall and I pushed myself backwards, sucking in a breath when my ass cheeks touched the cold wall. A lean tattooed guy came swaggering towards me, his gaze focused on his smart cuff. Ace didn’t look too pleased about whatever he was reading, though the guy rarely looked happy in general from what I’d seen of him. I bet he was a real treat to be around. They must have healed the worst of his injuries after the fight he had earlier with Kayden. Surprisingly, he was able to trade the big guy blow for blow, but he’d still walked away with a split lip and bruising cheek. Ace stopped a few feet away, grumbled incoherently, then took a quick scan of the hallway and slipped into one of the rooms. Suspicious, but not my problem. I had my city to watch out for and had no interest in dissecting whatever the Drakes had him up to within the academy’s halls. The Damascon Hollow gangs were always doing dodgy stuff and that was a rabbit hole I would not be travelling down.
I waited a few more minutes, wondering whether I’d misheard Mark at dinner and I was wasting my time. I thought about packing it in for the night, but then the jerk showed his sneering face. Mark slipped from a room at the end of the corridor and once he passed me, I followed close on his tail. He led me down from the top floor and out into the courtyard, his steps making more noise than I think he’d like thanks to his bulky size. Moving with grace was not one of his talents.
There were a few lights around the place but mostly the grounds of the House of Ascension were cast in shadow. If I’d thought I’d been cold inside, it was nothing on the cool breeze out there. Mark bypassed the training areas modelled on the five main Terrulian cities and made a beeline for the caff. My stomach growled and I froze, praying to the gods that he didn’t notice. When he showed no sign of hearing, I continued to follow, contemplating sneaking a bite to eat once I’d gotten an idea of what the guy was up to.
There were still groups of people in the caff, sitting around tables chatting like they were in high school and not in a deadly set of trials for a crown. It amazed me how even in circumstances where your life was at risk, there were still people who could act like it was just another day. As if all this was normal. The Terrulian Trials were known for their brutality. At best, you returned home shamed and sporting a couple of broken bones, at worst, you were given a one-way ticket to the grave. Turns out people liked to ignore such alarming details like the high probability of imminent death.
I, for one, thought contemplating my demise was an uplifting topic, like swallowing nails or cutting the bottom of my feet with razor blades. Really enjoyable shit.
Mark strode through the caff as though he owned the place, and I had to give him credit. There was something about his confidence that made him immune to attracting attention. If you acted like you belonged, people tended to believe you, and he sure as heck was acting as though he should be opening a door that clearly stated, “No Access”.
Without looking to see if anyone was watching him, Mark stepped into the room and it took all my finesse to slip in after him without getting caught, my dick grazing the closing door as it shut. The place was dimly lit. We were in a storeroom, judging by the boxes and bottles that filled the tall shelves. I leaned in close to read that they were just cleaning supplies and nothing of note.
“It’s me,” Mark whispered, and a moment later the scrape of shoes had me turning around to find a hooded figure behind me.
I quickly sidestepped out of the way but not without trying to sneak a look under the mysterious guy’s hood. Unfortunately, all I got was a stubbled chin.
Excellent investigating skills if I do say so myself.
“You’re late,” the hooded guy snapped. “Do you think I have copious amounts of time to waste waiting in a storeroom for you to grace me with your presence?”
“I’m here now, old man,” Mark replied. “You’re lucky I came at all.”
The hooded figure rushed forward, grabbing Mark by his shirt and pinning him against the wall with an arm. “You’re lucky I decided to cut your family in on this at all. Remember who you are speaking to.”
“Alright, alright,” Mark said, raising his hands. “Settle, all’s good.”
The guy scoffed, releasing him. “Just shut up and listen. House Jupiter is expecting the next shipment to go out during the first trial. I want no problems, you hear me? If anything goes wrong your family will pay the price. Is that clear?”
