Page 73 of A City of Flames

“Two new deaths just off the west side of Lava Grove.”

Deaths. Why are we never informed of this? “Is that all they said?”

One of Rydan’s shoulders rises as he pouts in thought. “That’s all I gathered, though it’s odd, isn’t it?”

“What is?” Freya probes, a worry line on her forehead.

“How there are so many deaths, yet their bodies seem to disappear completely, and everyone just... forgets about them.” Rydan shudders, but the words leave me in a loop of pensiveness. “I’d hate to encounter one like Adriel and Oran did.”

I don’t think many want to encounter said creature; I, on the other hand.

While Freya sits at the mess hall dining away, I’m up in the chambers, sitting on my bed and staring at the door, thinking, processing, wondering about the creatures.

A trainee is a trainee. They don’t have as many rights as a sworn-in venator would, but knowledge of these creatures—of these deaths is something I firmly believe we need to know in order to protect ourselves.

I had weighed up my options while plaiting my hair to the side and placing my double-ended blade against my sheath.

One, these creatures seem to prey on human flesh at night, which means now is the time they’d surface.

Two, Adriel said it looked as though they were blind, just like a rümen, and everyone knows their weakness is at the nape of their neck—the softest part of their scales. If it is anything like a rümen, I can weaken it.

Meaning, I’m setting out to trap one.

Outright irresponsible of me to do so, and perhaps I’m acting upon impulse simply because it’s a form of adventure for me, which is why I accepted anything no matter the difficulties.

Gulping in a breath, I shoot up from the bed and swing the door open only to freeze as Lorcan stands there, fist in the air as if about to knock.

Oh, my Solaris.

“You’ve returned,” I breathe. A stir, a lot like relief, perches itself inside me, yet it’s awkward of me not to know whether to hug or kiss him? I choose neither as he lowers his fist and nods.

“We managed to hunt down a few fledglings—”

I hold back from widening my eyes, my chest pounding. Fledglings are just the equivalent of a baby.

“Is something wrong?”

I blink from my stupor and shake my head in a lie. Something is very wrong because the knowledge of fledglings being hunted down makes me... distressed. I don’t like it, even if, as a future venator, that is what my duty holds.

With a short nod, his other hand from behind him comes out, holding something dark and leathery. “Well—I picked up something along the way.”

Taking a good look, I stare down as he unfolds his palm, showing me... a fingerless glove.

“I tried to return your old one, but I figured you’d deserve a newer glove.”

For the scar I always try and hide.

Wordless, I’m not sure what to say as he dips his chin in askance. I glide my hand up from the side and give it to him. I’m aware of my every being, breathing too harsh, then too soft, and lastly uneven as he places it on, letting the tips of his fingers deliberately touch my skin for a minute longer.

My eyes flicker to the leather extending up to my elbow, and I half-smile as I wiggle my fingers. The leather stretches as I close and open my fist.

“Were you afraid that day?” Lorcan asks, and I shoot my gaze at him, pressing my brows together. He points to my glove. “The day this happened?”

“I was,” I confess, making his eyes narrow slightly.

“Was?”

“I made a promise to myself I wouldn’t be.” I sigh, dropping my hand to the side. “I don’t like the idea of being afraid of anything.”

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