Too many secrets

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Chapter 32: Too many secrets.

"Someone is going to catch us." Mahon warned, peering out of the broom-closet. "One of these days."

"Kohen already knows. How could he not?" I knotted my hair back at the nape of my neck, smoothing a shaking hand down my coat.

The Captain closed the door behind him softly, glancing up and down the hallway furtively. It made me laugh to see him like that, hair rustled and neck darkened by teeth. "It's impossible to keep a secret from that Zentin."

"And when we find somewhere bigger than a broom closet," I rose up onto my tip-toes, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. "...we can give him a big secret to stew over."

"You are bold," Mahon turned, pulling me into his arms again. I toyed with the silken curls at the nape of his neck, my smile as sharp as the edge of my Alelang.

"And you are blushing."

"You're impossible." A smile warmed the harsh planes of his face. "And we are late."

I hooked a heel around his leg, a hand against the hard planes of his stomach. He made a rough noise in the back of his throat. "Change the schedule."

He hooked a loose strand of auburn hair over the point of my ear. Against the sensitive point. My jaw tensed at the raw hunger, flooding in. And he knew it too, his smile sharpening. Teasing. "Perhaps I could arrange something."

"My wounds have healed. No chance of an injury this time." I pressed an open mouthed kiss to his throat's pulse.

"Where are we?" The Captain cleared his throat, calculating how long it would take us to get to our bedrooms.

It was then that I felt it. A ripple of magic in the atmosphere. A powerful soul calling out to Adotlan – calling out to the magic-wielders that could answer.

Terrible timing.

"Someone is coming into Adotlan." With a sigh, I pulled away from Mahon. "Someone powerful."

"It's been three days since someone tried to kill you," Mahon smoothed a hand down his chest. "They're late."

I threw a scowl over my shoulder as I headed down the hall. The Captain let out a low laugh and followed. The wind was bitter and cold as I stepped outside, heading up along the walls of the inner bailey. Soldiers inclined their heads in greeting as we passed.

Kohen waited above the gate. He balanced on the edge of the wall, looking as if he was about to take flight. At our approach, a slim ear cut towards us.

"Words. Words. Words, unsaid." Kohen surveyed us from the corner of his eye. "You both look dishevelled."

"I feel it." I planted my forearms onto the wall, staring out to the expansive forest beyond the outer walls. Mahon grumbled under his breath, standing away from us with his hands tucked behind his back.

Outside, the call of magic was stronger. Heavy.

It was definitely magic.

Not that burning silver of the Abyss. Not the torment that ravaged my blood – magic that might be killing me. This was pure. Magic that existed in nature, aimed through one powerful soul: the magic of trees, wind and sky and earth.

Not the magic spun from casting stones either.

"He has arrived," Kohen closed his eyes, face tipped up to the sky. "He comes with the children of the forest. Old, cunning and sad. Vicious. Like you, Avi, he goes by many names. Once a scholar, now a nomad."

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