17. Seventeen

Seventeen

Four days later, I was once again lying on my back in the middle of the field. My muscles groaned in protest. We had moved on to magic when I successfully blocked the water from getting through my shields. This was so much harder.

The burns on my wrists were starting to feel like daggers, inching themselves closer and closer to my bones. I hadn’t let Landers heal them yet; the pain they caused as I moved was my punishment, my penance for lying to Taft about training. I deserved it. I slid my fingers over the blisters and sighed.

I will find a way to tell him tonight.

“That is enough for today, I need to get you back,” Landers said, holding his hand out to me. I nodded, pushing myself to my feet and brushing the dirt off of my leathers. I needed a bath and a remarkably large drink.

We materialized into Landers room as the sounds of murmuring flowed up the stairs. Shit. They were already home. Landers face hardened as I looked up at him with wide eyes. “I can’t go down there,” I said frantically. “This isn’t how they were supposed to find out.”

Landers took a step toward me, tucking a curl behind my ear. “Breathe. I will be right behind you.”

I nodded, swallowing the lump that had formed in my throat and turned to the door. I can do this.

Everyone’s eyes locked on us and we walked down the stairs and stepped into the sitting room. The only sound in the room was the crackling of the fireplace and Ata’s footsteps hurrying across the stone floor. She pushed a drink into my hand as she reached me, ordered me to drink.

“Get ready,” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder. “Taft is irate.”

Right on queue, Taft walked down the stairs behind us, folding his arms across his puffed out chest. I turned, lifting the glass to my lips—the ice clinking against the smooth interior as my hand shook and I took a few steps away from him. My heart thumped wildly in my chest, betraying my calm facade.

This was not how he was supposed to find out.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” he snorted.

Landers scoffed behind me, and my body tightened.

He was fanning the flame and he knew it.

I placed the glass to my lips again and tilted my head back until every drop slid down my throat, then set the cup on the coffee table and wiped my mouth.

“Where were you?” he snarled at me.

“Training,” I said as casually as I could, trying to embody Landers’s calmness as all eyes were on us. His eyes widened as they darted to Landers then back to me.

“You’ve been training? With him?” His voice was a low growl.

“I was going to tell you when I was ready.” My voice faltered as he took a step toward me and I leaned away.

“And when would that be?” Taft took another step closer.

“I-I don’t know. I wanted to get stronger first. I wanted to show you I could do this.” The words stammered out of me as my heartbeat rang in my ears.

“You made me a promise.” Guilt rushed over me as his words hit their mark. I had made a promise, and I broke it so easily. What did that say about me?

“I know I did,” I whispered, as my eyes dropped to my hands clasped in front of me.

“A couple days alone with him and he’s already turned you into a liar,” he spat, his rage filled eyes flashing to Landers, who moved to take a step forward. I pressed a hand into Landers chest, stopping him as I took a deep breath.

It was now or never.

I had to learn how to speak up for myself. I had to learn to stand my ground and not allow him to speak to me this way.

I lifted my gaze back to Taft, locking eyes with him as I willed all of my confidence to the surface.

“I did make a promise to you, and I’m sorry I broke it in this way. But I’m not sorry that I broke it.” He glared at me as I took a shaky breath. “I made the promise because I was scared of disappointing you, of letting you down. But when I made that promise, I let myself down.” The silence in the room was heavy as I forced myself to keep speaking.

“Taft, you’re supposed to be my partner. My support system. I shouldn’t have to ask you to let me grow, to figure out who I am. And I shouldn’t be scared to tell you what I really want for myself. Your constant need to protect me is doing more harm than good. It’s preventing me from learning how to fend for myself. Throughout our entire relationship, I have done everything you asked of me, down to what I wore—what I ate. I always trusted your judgment and relied on you to speak for me when this entire time I should have been putting that trust in myself so maybe, just maybe I would have some kind of understanding of who I am.” I took a small step forward.

You can do this.

Taft opened his mouth to speak and I threw my hand up, stopping the words before they could leave him.

“I’m not finished,” I said sternly.

Ata pressed her lips together, strangling a laugh and glanced at Pri who had a blanket pulled up to her nose, hiding the smile I could see shimmering in her eyes. She gave me a nod of encouragement.

“You are supposed to be the one who encourages me to grow, and is excited for me when I get the opportunity to. But you cannot stand to see me do something that you didn’t decide for me, even if it makes me happy.” I could hear my voice rising with each hurried word I spoke, rushing to get them out before I lost control of my emotions. “I am done letting you control me, then feeling guilty when I let you down because I chose myself before I chose you.” The anger on his face was slowly slipping into shock as he realized what I was saying. I took a few breaths, slowing my heart and lowering my voice before continuing.

“You love a version of me that I can no longer give you and that breaks my heart because I thought we were stronger than this.” The words hung heavy in the air, like a dense fog that refused to dissipate. I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer as they broke the surface and flowed down my face.

“Cin.” Taft rushed over to me, grasping my hands in his. His voice was frantic as he searched my eyes. “I was just so worried about you. And you . . . you were with him. I don’t trust him.”

“ I trust him, Taft!” I yelled, taking a step back and yanking my hands from his grip.

“But you shouldn’t. You don’t know anything about him—about any of them!”

“Stop, Taft. Please just stop,” I whispered, taking another step away from him. “I can’t do this anymore.” He looked at me, and for a moment, I saw the love and pain he was feeling flash in those beautiful brown eyes. But then it was gone, replaced by a hard expression that I recognized all too well.

“I am not having this conversation here.” He grabbed my wrist so tightly torrid pain shot up my arm as he tugged me toward the stairs. Blisters exploded under his grasp as I dropped to my knees and let out an agonizing scream. Time seemed to pause for a moment, as the pain ran through every vein in my body. Taft stood in front of me with a look of horror on his face.

Blackness covered the room as my shadows shot into every corner and before I could think, before I could blink, Landers had Taft raised from the ground by his neck. With the deafening thud of Taft’s back meeting the stone wall, the room fell silent.

Landers held a blade to Taft’s neck, pressing it firmly to his exposed artery. No one dared to move. His grip tightened around Taft’s neck as violet tendrils of magic sparked around his fingers. Taft’s eyes widened as he struggled to free himself from Landers’ grip.

Fear coursed through my blood, as I watched the scene playing out in front of me.

“Landers, please,” I begged through tears as I nursed my wrist against my chest. His eyes flickered toward me on the ground and I held his stare. “Please,” I begged again with a whisper.

His eyes had become so unrecognizable—so dark. But as he looked at me, it was like a light had flickered back on and something softened. Emerald began to flow back into his irises and his grip loosened around Taft’s throat as his eyes turned back to him.

“Death is the only thing waiting for you if you ever lay a hand on her again,” Landers said with a snarl as he dropped Taft to the ground. He took a step back, inhaling a deep breath as he ran a hand through his hair.

Taft turned and stared down at me.

“This is the monster you choose to trust over me?” he spat, then stormed out of the house before any of us could stop him.

Just like that, it was over.

I sank further into the ground, the weight of my emotions bearing down on me like a heavy boulder, crushing every last bit of strength.

The tears fell freely now, and I let them.

Ata rushed to my side and pulled me into her chest, dragging the sleeves of my jacket up my arms and gasped.

Her eyes darted to Landers, then back to me.

“How did you get these?” she demanded, her voice trembling with rancor. “What the fuck did you do to her?” she snarled up at Landers, her protective instincts kicking in as she studied the open wounds on my wrists in horror. I could feel her heart racing against my chest as she held me tighter, as if trying to shield me from any more harm. I took a deep breath, trying to stop the sobs that were pouring out of me.

“It’s okay, Ata,” I reassured her through tears. “I’m okay. Landers didn’t do anything to me.” Ata’s eyes narrowed as she glared up at him. Landers met Ata’s gaze head-on, his expression unyielding.

“I would die before I laid a hand on her,” he stated, his voice as cold as winter’s frost. The scoff Ata gave matched the coldness in his tone and forced his spine a little straighter, his eyes blazing with a dangerous fire. Ata’s nostrils flared as she tightened her grip on me, her body trembling with barely contained rage.

“Then who did this to her?” she demanded, her voice cutting through the air like a sharp blade.

“No one did, Ata,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. The tears and pain started to fade as I pushed myself from Ata’s grasp and to my feet. Wren was suddenly by my side, helping to pull me from the ground as I found my balance. His eyes examined my arms as he walked me toward the couch. His touch around my shoulders was so soft, so gentle, like he thought he might break me just by holding me.

Pri handed me a blanket as I slumped down into the couch cushions. I pulled the cut of fabric from her hands greedily, trying to cover up my bare skin so the stares that burned into my wounds would move elsewhere.

“Cin,” Ardan said my name slowly, like he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to ask the next words. “How did you get these?” The room was silent as I took in a deep breath, then explained.

“Why would you let her train with these wounds? Why did you not inform us immediately when you found out?” Ardan asked in frustration as he paced back and forth in front of the fire, casting shadows across the stones behind him. Pri placed a drink in my hand and I took a large gulp. Landers relaxed in a chair across from me, leaning his chin onto his fist as his eyes flickered to me before answering.

“She wanted to train, so I trained her. The wounds were not mine to share. She would have revealed everything in her own time and I simply honored her choice.” His response was seemingly inconsequential yet his words hit me like a tsunami, crashing into my heart and flooding it with a powerful surge of emotion.

He had trusted me.

He had trusted me to make my own decisions—to know what I needed. Gratitude flowed over me as I stared at him across the room. He would never understand what that meant to me.

“What are the next steps?” Wren’s voice cut into my thoughts, and I downed the rest of the liquid in my glass. Landers looked to Andrues, who was leaning against the wall behind us. He pushed off the stones and sauntered over to the back of the couch, his muscular arms gripping the top edge as he looked down at me.

“These wounds are incredibly challenging to heal and will require a significant amount of time and effort. Given their prolonged negligence, it may take several hours of agonizing pain to rid them of infection before the actual healing process can begin.” I refilled my glass as Andrues continued to explain the process. “After the procedure is finished, it will take a couple of days for complete healing to occur.”

“Do you have everything you need to start the process?” Wren asked.

“I do. When Hyacinth is ready—” Andrues paused, looking back to me and softening his voice. “When you are ready, I will heal you.” I let out a slow breath as Ata’s hand brushed small circles across my back, and nodded.

“Tomorrow. I will do it in the morning.”

He gave me a small smile in response and backed away to his prior place against the wall.

Ardan stopped his pacing as he leaned down and quietly spoke into Landers’s ear then nodded. He grabbed his jacket from the kitchen table and slid his arms into it. Swinging his blade over a shoulder before sliding his fingers over Ata’s arm lovingly and walked out the front door.

Pri wrapped her arms around me, motioning her head toward Wren in a silent request to give us the room. As the three men quietly exited I let out a breath.

“I am so proud of you,” Ata said, slipping down to the floor in front of me and grabbing my shoulders in both hands as Pri tucked a loose curl behind my ear. “You should be so proud of yourself.”

I took shallow, shaky breaths as I looked over their faces, trying to keep the second wave of tears at bay.

I had ended it.

Pri handed me a goblet as she pulled the cork from the wine bottle with her teeth and filled my glass.

“We are not leaving this couch until we have finished this bottle.” She smiled and clinked her glass against mine and Ata’s, then downed her drink. I followed and held out my glass for a refill.

“I can’t believe I did that,” I said, pressing the cold glass against my cheek. “Is it wrong that I feel lighter?”

“No, it’s not. Love doesn’t always make sense. You can love someone you know isn’t right for you,” Pri said the words with soft sincerity as she lifted my chin to her eyes. “Are you going to be okay?” I nodded through my tears.

“Taft . . .” I choked out through a sob.

“He will be back,” Ata said, pulling me into her chest. “Ardan will bring him back.”