Page 61 of Tempest Blazing
I didn't lift my head from Whiskey's fur."Obviously I need you both,"I murmured."Different kinds of comfort."
"Ah, so I'm relegated to second place behind a feline,"he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice.
The peaceful moment couldn't last forever, though. A familiar knot of anxiety twisted in my stomach as I thought about everything else waiting for me."I should probably start looking into the Harbingers,"I said reluctantly."Figure out what they're planning, why they wanted me so badly."
"Not yet,"* Thalon's voice turned serious. *"Give it a few more days. Your final guild trial has a strict deadline—focus on passing that first. The Harbingers have waited this long; they can wait a little longer."
I wanted to argue, but he was right. The trial was only days away, and failing it would mean losing everything I'd worked for."Fine,"I conceded."But after the trial—"
"After the trial, we'll hunt down every last one of them if we have to."
A sharp knock at the door jolted me upright. Whiskey let out an indignant chirp and hopped off the bed with offended dignity, tail flicking as he stalked toward his food bowl. I ran a hand through my messy hair—when had I taken it down?—and padded barefoot to the door.
"Just a sec!" I called, my heart giving a strange little flutter. The knock had been confident, familiar. Mason? He'd slipped out early this morning while I was still half-asleep, pressing a soft kiss to my shoulder before disappearing into the dawn. Heat crept up my neck as memories of the night before flickered through my mind.
I pulled the door open and found him standing there—tall, solid, wonderfully familiar—but he wasn't alone.
A young woman stood beside him, sharing his dark hair and the same strong jawline, though hers was softened by full lips and intelligent brown eyes that studied me with frank curiosity. Shewas shorter than Mason by several inches, her black hair pulled back in a practical ponytail, wearing jeans and a fitted t-shirt.
His sister. It had to be.
Mason cleared his throat, and I caught the nervous tension in his shoulders. "This is Kali," he said, voice carefully neutral. "She... wanted to meet you properly."
Kali's gaze flicked over me—taking in my bare feet, my rumpled clothes, probably cataloging every detail for future reference. There was wariness there, but also curiosity. And underneath it all, something that looked almost like hope.
I took a breath, reading the tension coiled in her shoulders, and stepped aside with a welcoming smile. "Then I'm glad you're here. Come in."
I made space for them to enter, instinctively scooping up Whiskey so he didn't get trampled by unfamiliar feet. He settled into my arms with a resigned purr, apparently deciding that being held was an acceptable compromise.
We settled onto the couch, and I felt some of the tension ease as Mason gently nudged Kali forward. Whiskey had claimed the armrest, watching our new guests with regal interest.
"Tess," Mason said quietly, his voice carrying that particular weight it got when he was about to say something important. "You're the only one I've ever trusted like this." His eyes found mine, steady and serious. "Kali wanted to meet you because... you matter."
His voice caught on the last word, and I felt something twist in my chest. The simple honesty of it, the way he said it like it was both a confession and a gift.
I turned to meet Kali's gaze, which had softened slightly. "He matters to me too," I said, meaning every word. "Which means you do, whether you like it or not."
Kali snorted, but she didn't pull away when I shifted closer on the couch. "You're weird," she muttered, but there was less edge to it now.
"Welcome to the club," I replied, and was rewarded with what might have been the ghost of a smile.
"Mason's different around you," she said finally. "Lighter. I haven't seen him like this since..." She trailed off, but her expression had shifted to something warmer. "Thank you."
The simple words hit me harder than any grand declaration could have. I reached out tentatively, and when she didn't pull away, I squeezed her hand. "Thank you for giving me a chance."
"Don't make me regret it," she said, but she was almost smiling now.
Another knock at the door—but this time it burst open before I could reach it. Pippa strode in, looking supremely smug about something, her arms stacked high with pizza boxes and drinks.
"Look who I found loitering near the vending machines," she announced, gesturing dramatically behind her. "Figured you deserved one normal evening before you dive into the insanity of final trial prep. We've only got a week, and knowing the Guild..." She shook her head, her usual brightness dimming for just a moment. "Let's just say you'll want this memory to hold onto."
Kane, Draven, and Raze stepped through the doorway, each holding bags of food and drinks. My heart lifted at the sight of Raze—we hadn't really talked much since that brutal survival challenge where we'd been partnered together, but seeing hisfamiliar grin made me realize how much I'd missed his easy humor.
"Well, well," Raze drawled, "looks like we've got ourselves a proper slumber party. Should I have brought my pajamas?" He winked at Kali, who actually cracked a smile despite herself.
Draven's gaze lingered on the way Mason's presence filled the space behind me, protective but not possessive, and something predatory flickered behind his smile. "Building an army, love?" he purred, challenge dancing in those mood-ring hazel eyes as they warmed to amber.
Kane's nod was brief, his attention already shifting to scan the room with tactical precision—probably calculating optimal seating arrangements even as we spoke. Some habits never died.
