Page 10 of Tempest Blazing
The blade stilled, but he didn't look at me.
"When you're ready to talk about whatever's eating you alive," I said quietly, "I'll listen. No judgment, no expectations. Just... if you need someone who isn't part of the Guild politics or family drama."
This time he did turn, and for just a moment, his carefully constructed mask slipped. I saw exhaustion there, and something that might have been longing. But then the walls came back up, higher than ever.
"I won't," he said again, but this time the words sounded different. Less like a promise and more like a warning.
I nodded and walked away, leaving him alone with his demons and his blade.
But as I reached the edge of the training yard, I heard the sound of steel biting wood resume—softer now, less angry. As if my words had taken some of the rage out of his strikes.
It wasn't much. But maybe it was enough.
The shadows had fully claimed the yard by the time I looked back. Kane was just a pale figure in the darkness, still fighting battles I couldn't see. Still keeping secrets that were slowly tearing him apart.
I wanted to go back, to push harder, to demand answers. But I'd learned something important tonight: Kane would come to me when he was ready. If he was ever ready.
Until then, all I could do was trust that when the moment came, he'd choose the right side.
Even if he couldn't choose it yet.
Chapter 4
Tess
Monday morning hit me hard, cold and unforgiving. I stepped into the outdoor training area, boots hitting gravel with a crunch that seemed too loud. The sun was just crawling over the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of orange and gold, but all that beauty did nothing for the sick twist in my stomach.
Something was wrong. I could feel it in my bones.
What made me stop dead was the unprecedented gathering of dragons. They formed a massive semicircle around the training grounds, and the sight of them—so many, all at once—made my mouth go dry. This felt official. Important enough to summon every dragon in the guild.
I spotted Thalon among them, his scales shifting between obsidian and gold in the morning light. He caught my gaze and sent a gentle pulse of reassurance through our bond, but no explanation came with it. Typical.
The other dragons waited in silence, their presence heavy and watchful. None of these dragons appeared to have riders with them, and the thought hit me suddenly—could these be the ones who would choose from among us?
I adjusted my glasses with shaking fingers and scanned the area, my heart doing something between a gallop and a stutter. The dragons weren't just waiting; they were watching. Everymovement we made, every breath we took. Their presence felt heavy in my chest.
Then I saw him.
Mason stood off to the side, his broad frame silhouetted against the rising sun. His dark brown skin had this golden glow in the early light, and I could see a pulse throbbing in his jaw, his hand flexing and unflexing against his bicep. Tension radiated off him in waves. His arms were crossed over his chest, the muscles in his shoulders coiled tight as he stared at the scene in front of him.
I made my way over to him, each step feeling heavier than the last. "Mason," I called softly, hesitating when I reached him.
He turned at the sound of my voice, his dark eyes meeting mine. The sharp lines of his face softened slightly, and for a moment, the tension in his shoulders eased. "You okay?" he asked, his voice low and gruff, but I caught the worry threading through it.
After everything that had happened—the intruder in the Library, the forest fire attack—we'd determined that staying on the library grounds and continuing to come to classes was the safest, most logical course of action. But logic didn't make the weight of constant vigilance any easier to bear.
I opened my mouth, then closed it. I didn't know what to say, didn't know how to voice the dread crawling up my spine. Mason must have seen something in my face because he closed the distance between us. His arm came around my shoulders, the gesture so natural it made my chest ache.
For a heartbeat, I went rigid. But then I relaxed, leaning into him, my head brushing against his chest. Warmth flooded through me, and something else—a flicker of the bond we nowshared—shot down my spine like electricity. "I always feel safest with you," I murmured, the words barely making it past my lips.
His arm tightened slightly around me, his gaze scanning the area like he was cataloging every possible threat. "Always," he said simply, and the certainty in his voice was steadying.
Before I could respond, the murmurs around us died to nothing, the collective unease of the group so thick I could taste it. Mason's gaze flicked over my shoulder, and I turned to see why.
The Lord Protector had arrived.
Silvius Ellesar was the kind of fae who could silence a room just by breathing in it. His tall, commanding figure cut through the morning fog, and those piercing blue eyes—cold, calculating—swept over us with the weight of centuries that made my skin crawl. The silver hair framing his face gave him an air of regality, but there was no warmth anywhere near him.
