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“Don’t what?” he asked.
“Just don’t do this,” I said. “Don’t try to take all the blame or dig into the reasons why it shouldn’t have happened.”
“I don’t know what to do!” he shouted. “I know it was both of us,” his voice softened, “but as your apprentice, I should have stopped it. I should have been responsible. I lost control. And I just, I need to know if you’re okay.”
“I’m not,” I said.
“Because of what I did?” His hands flexed.
“Because of what we did,” I said. “Look, I think we both know what happens next.” My gut twisted. “Let’s just…forget it. We have to. We’re supposed to be on the track in less than an hour. You should get ready. I need to drink this coffee.”
He closed his eyes, a look of finality in the tightness of his mouth when he looked at me again. “I’ll be in the shower.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Themomenttheclocktowerannounced the final hour of the day, I bolted from the training room. It had been my longest day of training yet. Rhyan and I hadn’t said a word to each other, not since he’d showered. We’d gotten ready for our morning run separately and silently, hadn’t spoken on the track, and had barely spoken in the training room.
The training room had been its own kind of torture. Rhyan had to occasionally touch me to help me go deeper into a stretch or to make an adjustment so I was in proper form. Every time he did so, it was awkward. He hesitated. I tensed up.
There’d always been moments when I’d be hit with a sudden wave of need or desire as Rhyan touched me during our training sessions. Sometimes it made sense that the touches sent me into a spiral, like anytime he put his hands on my ribcage, his fingers dancing so dangerously close to the underside of my breasts. But other times, the touch could be something so innocent, like his fingers on my ankle, and I’d fantasize about him running his hand up my calves and thighs, pushing between my legs.
I’d always been fully capable of ignoring those desires before, of taking a breath and letting the simmering heat cool down inside me. Today, I was useless. Just the fact that the sun was shining reminded me of laying underneath him. Every breath he took, I heard his breathing against me as his hips drove into mine.
I’d never been so relieved to hop onto a seraphim at the end of the day, to let the night air cool my heated face as I took off for Cresthaven.
I found Morgana in Meera’s room, both only half-dressed in their black dresses for Days of Shadows when I arrived.
“Lyr,” Morgana said happily as I walked in. “You have to try this wine.” She stood up from the bed, her words slurred.
“Myself to Moriel,” I muttered. “Already?”
“Already,” Morgana mimicked. She batted her eyelashes at me and rolled her shoulders back in what I assumed was an impression of me. A really bad one.
“You’re right,” she said. “I just forgot,” she grabbed her ass, “to put a stick up there.”
I groaned.Can you give me five minutes before acting like a bitch?
“Five minutes was five drinks ago,” she snapped.
“Don’t listen to her. She’s not that drunk,” Meera said. She was standing before her mirror trying to curl her hair. “She’s just excited for her date tonight.”
“Terra. She’s an apprentice mage….” Morgana closed her eyes and moaned. “Beautiful. Also, Lyr, if you’re going to call me a bitch, say it out loud. It’s rude thinking mean thoughts about your mind-reading sister.”
“I didn’t call you a bitch. I said you were acting like one.”
“I’d like to point out that it’s rude to think thoughts in front of your oldest sister when you know I can’t hear them,” Meera said. She was trying to join in the banter, but she already seemed completely drained and exhausted. The bags under her eyes were purple, and she was bracing herself against her dresser, like she was too weak to stand up on her own even just to do her hair.
Maybe it was too much of a risk to go tonight.
Morgana caught my eye in the mirror. Her jaw clenched, black eyebrows narrowed, as she made a cutting motion with her hand across her neck.
I exhaled sharply. We’d had this fight before, about lessening Meera’s public appearances even further. But she had to make public appearances at least weekly—in class, at parties thrown by nobles. Hiding her away from Lumeria would be just as suspicious as letting her be seen in this state. It was why I’d made myself so prominent, and even more so after Morgana’s Revelation. We tried to keep Bamaria satisfied with at least one Batavia Heir.
What if it’s just tonight?
Morgana’s nostrils flared, clearly disagreeing with me.
Meera paused, her pale hazel eyes watching, alert. She knew we were discussing her—when she’d literally just asked us not to.
