The training ringin Solace is the opposite of that of the Ley Court’s. It’s atop one of the manor’s towers with clear views of the city below. There are no trees blocking the view or caging me in. It’s all open space.
A crisp breeze tussles my hair when I climb the final step, and I spot Callum sharpening a sword at the opposite side. Below, the air is still, leaving me to believe he’s creating the cool current that pushes away the hot desert air.
Thankfully, Greer and Callum’s trip to Lochlan’s weaponry took longer than expected today, so we aren’t training in the heat of the afternoon. The sun is already setting, kissing the horizon.
Callum catches my gaze, his jaw setting when he spots Wilder walking behind me. I’ve bathed and braided my hair, but I still feel like what we’ve done is written all over my face.
The breeze whips a little harder, and I beeline for Greer, who is setting up to my left. She doesn’t look up when I stop beside her, but her nose scrunches.
“Gods, Elorie.” She sheathes her sword and begins sharpening a dagger. “His scent is all over you.”
“His scent?”
Her eyes narrow, cutting to Wilder, and my cheeks flush with heat.
“Oh, I?—”
“Please tell me it was the haelmarrow.”
My lips form a hard line, and while it might smooth things over to lie to Greer, I can’t bring myself to. It wasn’t anything but my reckless heart chasing what’s bad for me.
“Gods, souls, and stars,” she grumbles.
“It doesn’t mean anything,” I say, snatching a dagger.
It can’t mean anything,I remind myself.
Greer eyes Wilder, who sits on the ledge of the roof. Callum spins his sword in circles, his arm flexing with every swoop. His lethal glare has me wondering if, at any moment, he’ll send his blade along the wind to behead Wilder. Which can only mean one thing: Callum scents it too.
“Don’t forget what side you’re on.” Greer shoves her dagger in its sheath and turns toward the ring.
Anger courses through me when I grab a second dagger and watch the back of Greer’s head as she walks away. I understand why she’s upset, but I’m growing tired of being the only one constantly judged.
I glance over at Wilder, who is already watching me, but I don’t feel him at the edge of my thoughts.
“Ready?” Greer snaps, and I turn to face her, my eyes narrowing.
Gripping the daggers, I let the surge of anger transform into something else. Instead of stopping my magic in my veins and plugging it off, I take a deep breath, then let it go. A hesitant flicker sputters out.
“At least he’s good for something.” She cocks a brow.
But it’s more of a challenge than anything. Her judgment slams into the already heavy weight on my shoulders. I stop infront of her in a cold standoff.
“You’re one to judge.” I take a step forward. “Whose bed were you in last night?”
With the flare of my magic, other senses are heightened. I’ve never thought much about it, but Greer often smells of flowers. A spring morning. Except right now there’s something else blowing in the breeze I don’t recognize.
“It’s none of your business.”
“Then it’s not yours either.” I shove my chin up.
Greer’s jaw tenses, and we hold the standoff waiting for the other to move first. A tether that is going to snap. I need to battle this out with Greer—to face the reasons I’ve been beating myself up over what I’ve done.
My eyes barely blink when she moves. Greer unsheathes her sword with lightning-quick speed. It’s at her side and then at my throat when I’ve barely had time to think. Except it doesn’t meet flesh. It clashes against my blade. My daggers stop her right at my neck.
She smirks at the quick move. One so fluid and fast that I don’t know if I did it or if it was my magic. White light webs from my fingertips, glowing and sparking as they weave around the daggers.
I shove Greer off me and duck when she takes a swing at my head. There’s no more restraint in her movements. She throws the full force of her body into them, and I do the same. We meet each other step for step.
