Chapter 23: Cenric

Chapter

Twenty-Three

CENRIC

As I step out of the sweat lodge, Everly's startled face lingers in my mind. Her eyes had been wide, lips parted in surprise. A blush had crept across her cheeks, painting them a light pink that complemented her fair skin.

I'd never noticed before how her hair catches the light or how gracefully she moves, even in retreat.

Does she like me?

The thought has gnawed at me ever since she left. Why else would she blush like that?

I push the thought aside as I stride toward the lake.

When I first came to Karra, I believed my stay here would be brief—no more than a few weeks at most. I would suppress the simmering unrest brewing in the streets, then I would rejoin my cousins. Together, we would continue our mission to tame the unruly factions within our tribe, to quell the senseless violence, to uproot every poisonous weed before its twisted roots could strangle our people.

But the weeks have stretched into months, and my goals seem as distant as the stars twinkling overhead.

I'd even promised Praxis that our stay here would be short, and that he'd soon be able to return to his wife, Briley, waiting anxiously for him back in Astarobane. He must be worried for her, as I would be if I had a woman awaiting my return.

I slow my strides as I near the lake, where Gabriel stands at the water's edge. As I approach, he turns and gives me a brief nod.

He's the only one who will join me in these icy plunges beneath the winter moon. Praxis told me he'd rather chop off one of his arms than plunge into these frigid waters. And Luc said he'd walk through hot coals first.

Gabriel and I strip off our clothes and dive into the lake. The shock of the icy water hits me like a thousand tiny daggers. For a moment, my body seizes, every muscle tensing against the brutal cold. I force myself to move, to swim deeper into the dark waters. The cold envelops me completely, wrapping around my body like a frozen blanket. It's a familiar sensation, one I've sought out countless times before.

As I push through the water, everything else fades away—the constant noises in my mind, the endless questions and worries. Here, beneath the surface, there's only the present moment—the burn of my lungs, the ache in my muscles as I fight against the cold.

For a brief, blissful moment, I forget about the rebels in Karra, about the unrest threatening to tear our people apart. I even forget about my mother's disappearance, the mystery that's haunted me for so many summers. In this icy embrace, there's no room for the past or the future, only the struggle to survive the present.

Gabriel emerges nearby, his face alive with the rush of the plunge.

Eventually, I force myself to move, cutting through the water with long, powerful strokes. My muscles scream at me, but I push on, relishing the challenge. As I near the shore, I spot Gabriel already climbing out. I follow suit, hauling myself onto the sandy bank.

The night air feels almost warm compared to the frigid lake. I reach for my cloak, wrapping the thick fabric around my shoulders. It does little to ward off the chill, but it's better than nothing.

Gabriel and I make our way toward the nearest tent, its interior glowing with the warmth of a fire. As we duck inside, the sudden rush of heat is almost painful against my frozen skin.

The fire crackles in the center of the tent as I grab a cloth and dry off, rubbing vigorously to bring some feeling back into my limbs. Gabriel is silent as he does the same.

I grab a clean set of clothes and yank them on as Gabriel dresses next to me. Once we're both clothed, I reach for a clay jar of wine tucked away in the corner of the tent. I take a long pull from the jar, letting the tart liquid roll over my tongue before swallowing. The warmth spreads through my chest, chasing away the chill from swimming in the lake.

I pass the jar to Gabriel, and he accepts it without a word. Gabriel has always been quieter than Praxis, Liam, and Luc, but tonight his silence is heavier than usual. There's more tension in his broad shoulders, and his silver-blue eyes lack their typical sharpness, instead holding a distant, haunted look.

After a few more passes of the jar between us, I break the silence. "Are you all right?"

He takes another long drink before passing the wine back to me.

There's only one person I can think of that would trouble him this deeply. "Is it Roland?"

He shakes his head, and I decide not to press that issue any further.

"Did you visit the oracle when you were in Astarobane?" I ask after a while of silence.

Gabriel's expression darkens. "Yes. Briefly. She told me I'm going to marry a stranger."

I smirk. "You're getting married?"

Gabriel shoots me a withering look. "It's not going to happen. The oracle is mistaken." He takes another swig of wine, as if trying to wash the prediction from his mind.

"I don't know," I say, trying to get a rise out of him. "Stranger things have happened. Maybe she'll finally thaw that icy heart of yours."

"Not likely." He passes the wine jar back to me. "I have no intention of marrying anyone."

Only time will tell if the oracle's words come true, though I know better than to wager against her. But if anyone can defy Fate, it would be Gabriel. After all, he's managed to evade his father for many summers .

"I wonder if she will be pretty or plain." I rest the jar against my thigh and glance over at him.

He scowls, his eyes narrowing as he folds his arms across his broad chest, as if armoring himself against my playful teasing.

"Will she be Bloodstone?" I continue, unable to resist needling him further.

He merely shrugs, his expression stony.

"I know," I say with mock certainty. "She's probably Kyanite. One of those pale blonde beauties with not an ounce of grit or fire to her."

At this, he scoffs. "Are you finished, Cenric?"

"Not quite." I grin as I continue. "I bet she's old. That's it—she's ancient. All wrinkled and haggard like a withered crone."

The canvas flap lifts, and Luc steps into the tent. "I'm thirsty. Give me some of your wine, Cenric."

I obligingly hold out the jar to him. "Did you know Gabriel is getting married soon, Luc?"

Gabriel shoots me a venomous glare. "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are." I turn back to Luc. "She's old, and she's Kyanite."

Luc takes a long drink from the wine before answering. "I highly doubt she'll be old."

My eyebrows shoot up. So, Luc knows? Interesting. I'll have to probe him for information later when Gabriel's not around.

"She will not be anything, because she doesn't exist." Gabriel stands abruptly, takes the wine jar from Luc's hands, then leaves the tent .

"That's rude, Gabriel," I call after him, though he doesn't stop or acknowledge my words.

Luc laughs. "You always were too obnoxious for your own good, Cenric."

I grin again and clap him on the shoulder. "I know. Now, let's go get some more wine."