Page 92 of A City of Flames

The vial I’ve carried around since the day I took it from Ivarron’s home.

My body jumps as the shifter’s pain echo the walls. Lorcan then grabs me by the arm spinning me to face him.

“Wait for me in my chambers.” His voice isn’t soft; it’s authoritative.

I can’t seem to get my words out. I’m just shaking my head, trying to understand everything as the shifter continues his agonizing cries. “What? No—”

“Nara.” He presses his palms flat on my shoulders, his expression stark. “As a deputy, I’m ordering you to wait there.”

There’s enough finality in that command that I stare at him. He’s not Lorcan right now. He’s the second in command to warriors, doing his duty.

I step back, and his hands slide off me. I look at the shifter, then Lorcan again, and sprint out of here. Holding the crescent to my heart I get to the entrance and spot where Freya is still talking to the venators. I try and catch her attention so that we can get out of this horrible place.

* * *

I didn’t wait in Lorcan’s chambers.

I didn’t follow his orders.

Instead, I ran to my room and threw the sheath, my crescent, and the blade all onto the bed.

Freya and I came back to mayhem. While Link and Rydan were still at the arena, venators passed us on the way out, scurrying towards the dungeons. I knew why and worse is that I was involved in it.

I glance at my wrist, running my fingers over the fresh bruises, then drop them to fiddle with the ends of my clothes. I’ve played every outcome that could happen today, Lorcan appearing should have been up there, but it wasn’t.

“It will be fine, I’m certain it will be,” Freya mutters under her breath, pacing back and forth at the foot of my bed. “Lorcan has a soft spot for you. He has since the beginning; he can’t be mad! You can just tell him you wanted to explore the dungeons. You are always in the mood to explore everything—” She halts then looks at me in concerned panic. “How are you so calm!”

“Trust me, I’m not calm.” I just hide it too well.

Freya sighs, her shoulders sinking as she walks over and lowers herself to her knees. “At least you managed to get all the information from that awful shifter.”

I shake my head once, and Freya’s hand rests on top of mine to stop the constant fidgeting. If I wasn’t so worked up, I’d thank her before I ripped a hole through my clothes. “It’s only opened up more questions, and Leira was right. Going against the queen is too much of a risk.”

“When have risks ever stopped you?” Her voice is delicate and sweet. It’s comforting, like that of a mother’s love.

I tug at my bottom lip with my teeth but end up smiling. “Never,” I whisper. “It’s why I always used to get in trouble with Idris.”

Freya chuckles light-heartedly. “I can imagine. He already kept arguing with me when I told him he was worse than a grumpy old man on the night of Noctura.” Her laugh fades into a meaningful smile. “You know... I’m glad you’re my friend Nara.”

Words lodge in my throat. Freya is the only friend I’ve ever had, and I’m grateful to have met her. I don’t think anyone else would do what she’s done.

Thudding raps against the door loud and Freya jolts, placing her hand to her chest. I close my eyes, sighing and a gust of air flickers through my hair as Freya rises to open it. Slowly getting up, I start to turn to the side, hearing the voice I’ve heard a thousand times. “Can I speak to Miss Ambrose in private?”

My eyes are now alert, staring at Lorcan. He’s looking at me with an expression I can’t decipher, just like at the beginning when we’d met. One of his hands is behind his back, and the other pressing the door as if he’s worried Freya will close it on him.

I glance at her, nodding, and for mere seconds she hesitates. She wants to stay, possibly defend me in the most dramatic way, but Lorcan and I have shared moments I never thought I would with anyone. I have to face him.

My brows rise towards Freya, and I mouth the words don’t worry. She straightens, huffing a sigh as she glances at Lorcan and decides to walk out. Lorcan steps into the room, closing the door and locking it behind him. Then we gaze at each other in silence for minutes. He knows I won’t be the first to speak, not when I’m so mulish. His hand goes to his forehead as he breathes roughly from his nose, and at last, he says, “I should have known you wouldn’t wait.”

“Forgive me for not waiting inside your room for hours until you came,” I state a little too sarcastically.

He shakes his head, a muscle flittering under his jaw. “Do you know how dangerous the dungeons can be if you’re not given authorization? If the general had caught—”

“What?” I step forward, a flicker of irritation in my voice as I remind myself the outcome could have been worse. “Revoked me of my rights to become a venator? Send me to the dungeons themselves? Because I’m certain he would love that.”

My gaze wanders to his other hand still behind his back and then up at him shaking his head once more. He’s singing my praises to other leaders, believes I can pass the trials, but how am I supposed to tell him something I’m not sure of myself anymore.

He doesn’t answer my mocking questions. His voice is a low whisper as he moves closer to me. “Why were you down there?”

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