Page 13 of Trivium

She breathed heavily against his palm, her voice dying in her throat. Her lips stuck slightly as he cautiously released her mouth. When he seemed satisfied that she’d be quiet, he moved the rest of the stones and crawled through the small gap. Replacing the stones, he completed a puzzle he seemed to know very well, too well, before he stood and wiped the dirt from his palms onto his pants, facing her.

Even in the twilight, she could see him clearly. It was the same man—same Defender—she saw earlier outside of Talamalu. His dark hair still sat in loose waves, except now pieces had fallen around his face, as if his hair product had worn off. Her eyes traced the edges of tattoos that travelled down the right side of his neck, into his shirt, peeking back out on the edge of his sleeve and down his toned forearm. She lingered on the hand that had been across her mouth, before ripping her gaze away.

“Alva.” He said her name like a curse, and her shoulders tightened.

She eyed him suspiciously. “And you are?”

“Ren Elmerian.” He nodded sternly, and when she didn’t say anything, he added, “better get home, Alva.”

Why did Defenders always use last names? It drove her insane.

“Loveleena is fine.” She took a step toward him. He was tall—six foot two if she had to guess—athletic, and smelled like evergreen and campfire. Slayers were always unreasonably fit and he was no exception.

“Actually, I intended to go through there.” The words were out of her mouth before she could think better of it, and she snapped her jaw shut.

Dammit. Could she ever just shut the hell up?

Ren turned to look at the spot in the wall that had been covered, now indistinguishable from the rest of the towering barrier, before dragging his gaze back to her.

“You intended to go through the wall,” he said slowly, as if deciphering a riddle. “And why would you do that?” Arms folding over his chest, his stare said what his mouth didn’t: Traitor.

Fuck.

Goddess, what was wrong with her? She just outed herself, to a Slayer of all people. She held her mouth firmly closed.

“Listen.” He smirked, his voice venomous. “I’m not going to report you, if that’s what you’re worried about. But I don’t like liars.”

She crossed her arms, mirroring him. “So why were you entering the city here?”

“Official Defender business. Nothing to worry you, Alva.”

“For someone who doesn’t like liars, you’re not being very honest yourself.”

His eyes narrowed. They were locked in a stare for what felt like eternity, and then, finally, he spoke. “Fine. I was on a special mission—one not every Defender is privy to.”

Satisfied, Loveleena shared her truth. “My friend Park went missing last year, and I just thought maybe there was a clue, or something, I don’t even know, just something he might have left behind.”

Ren’s gaze raked over her, as if analyzing her honesty. “Park Kem?”

She perked up. “You know him?”

“I know all the noble families, Alva.”

She sighed. Right. Of course he did.

“You were going to risk your life and your family’s reputation to see if your friend left something out there.” He gestured to the wall. “Like what? His corpse?”

“No, I just thought…” What, exactly, did she think? She looked at his calculated expression. He knew more than he was letting on. Defenders always knew more about the disappearances, arrests, creature attacks, and Jarrian politics than the public ever did. That’s when the idea struck her. Defenders could go beyond the wall. They had private knowledge of everything. If she wanted to find out more about Park, all she had to do was become a Defender. It was so simple; why hadn’t she thought of it before?

There was only one thing that prevented it. To become a Defender, you had to attend the Academy of Creature Defense. And it was a little late for that. Initiation was mere hours away and she hadn’t even applied to the Academy, let alone gotten accepted. Plus, Noble families didn’t become Defenders. It was an unspoken rule.

“Take me with you to the Academy.”

“Excuse me?” Ren laughed, a smile erupting on his lips. Even laughing he looked formidable.

“You’re a graduate, right?”

“I am.”