Empire of Flame and Thorns (Flame and Thorns #1)

Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

F ailure hangs over me like a gloomy cloud, and I find myself scowling as I stomp down the stairs and towards a bathing chamber on a different level. My attempt to spy yesterday yielded no results. And today I’ve been too preoccupied with trying to predict what the next trial will be that I haven’t gotten anything productive done.

My mind churns. It feels as if a swarm of angry bees is trapped inside my skull. And that is dangerous. If I’m going to have any chance of making it through the next trial, I need to have a clear head.

The door to the bathing chamber appears at the end of the hall. I glance over my shoulder to make sure that I’m not being followed as I close the final distance to it.

Alistair hasn’t dared to attack me again, but I can feel his threatening stare every time he sees me. And I really don’t want him to mess with me. Not tonight. This is the final evening before the next trial. I need to make sure that when I go to bed, I’m in the right headspace. So instead of using the bathing chamber in my own corridor, which is where Alistair lives too, I decided to sneak down to one on the other side of the south wing in order to get some space to think and breathe and get my head on straight. Because right now, that is something that I sorely need.

The corridor behind me is empty, so I open the door and slip into the bathing chamber.

Warmth and humid air hits me in the face as I step across the threshold and into a short corridor. I move quietly in case there is someone else here. I’m fairly certain that there won’t be, since most of the people who stayed in this corridor have already been eliminated. It was the whole reason why I picked this specific bathing chamber, after all.

Gleaming white faelights cover the pale stone walls as I sneak up to the first doorway on my right and peek inside. Only an empty dressing room meets me there. I pull back and continue towards the actual bath.

The short hallway opens up into a large chamber. The majority of the floorspace is taken up by a massive sunken bath. White stone steps lead down into the water, and then the pool spreads out in a rectangular shape. Water runs down in a soft waterfall on my left, filling the bath, and the excess water then flows out over the bath’s right wall, which is lower than the others. That way, the water is always kept fresh.

In here, the soft white faelights have been allowed to remain. Probably because it would be difficult to keep torches alive in a room with so much water and humidity. The gleaming light reflects against the sparkling water, casting glittering reflections on the walls.

I smile at the deserted room before me.

Perfect. This is just what I need.

I hurry back to the dressing room and quickly strip out of the robe I’m wearing. Since I wasn’t sure if there would be other people here, I didn’t want to bring my own clothes or my knife. So I just put on one of the fluffy white robes that we have been provided for this exact purpose. But it appears as though I might have been overly cautious.

Still, you never know.

After stripping down until I’m completely naked, I pad back to the bath area.

The water glitters invitingly before me.

Walking towards it, I move until I’m standing on the first step down and then dip my foot into the water. A rush of pleasure washes through me. Just like the bath in my corridor, the water is the perfect temperature. Not too cold and not too hot.

With a smile on my face, I walk down the steps until everything except my head is submerged in the warm water. A moan slips from my lips. Leaning backwards, I float on my back while lazily stroking the water with my arms.

Only the sound of softly rushing water fills the room. It drowns out all other sound and leaves me feeling as if I’m floating in a peaceful eternity.

I heave a deep sigh.

This is exactly what I needed. A way to silence all of the doubt inside my head. A way to forget all the mistakes I’ve made. A way to get myself in the right headspace so that I can focus solely on winning the next trial tomorrow.

While I float there, I try once again to guess what the next trial will be. But it’s impossible to know. Even Kevlin, who has done this two times before, says that it’s different every time. It might be another battle type trial. Or something that requires more stealth. I sincerely hope that it’s stealth, since that’s right up my alley.

It’s insane that the fae resistance hasn’t utilized me more. I would make the perfect spy. I can deescalate conflicts before they happen. And I can create them too, as distractions or as a part of a longer manipulation mission. I could do so much for them. And yet, all these years, they’ve kept me stuck on lookout duty.

Pain stabs into my chest and squeezes my heart. I’ve tried so hard to prove myself. To the resistance. To my parents. To the friends I should have had. But no matter what I do, everyone always keeps me at arm’s length. As if they think I’m going to… what? Take advantage of them? Force them to like me against their wishes?

It’s ridiculous. Just because I can manipulate people’s emotions doesn’t mean that I go around doing it at random. Just like Isera doesn’t throw blocks of ice at everyone she meets just because she can. But it’s as if there’s suddenly this huge difference just because my powers are of the mental kind rather than something physical that people can touch, or at least see.

My heart clenches again, and hopelessness washes over me. How am I ever going to make them accept me? It has been over a hundred years already and?—

I sit bolt upright, slamming my feet back down on the floor of the bath and standing up straight.

No. What the hell am I doing? I came here to clear my head. To calm down and reset my mind and get into the right headspace. And what am I doing instead? I’m spiraling into yet another fit of self-pity.

I slap the surface with my hand and scowl at myself. Enough. Enough moping. Enough self-sabotaging. The second trial starts tomorrow. I need to be focused. That’s how I’m going to change my life. Change how people see me. Change my future. The future of all fae. I’m going to win.

Water sloshes around me as I stalk back up the steps and out of the bath. Since I apparently can’t trust myself when I’m alone with my thoughts, I might as well head back and simply go to bed. Sleep shuts out the destructive thoughts and at least helps give my body more energy.

Drops of water run down my naked body and soak the floor as I stride back to the changing room. I round the doorway with determined steps, heading straight for my robe.

But then slam to a halt.

Dumbfounded, I blink at the empty shelf where I put my folded-up robe. I give my head a firm shake and then turn to look around the room. Did I put it somewhere else?

Only empty shelves and equally empty benches stare back at me. Even the few spare towels that were sitting on some of the shelves are gone.

My mind spins.

Then I spot it. A piece of paper lies on the empty shelf where my robe used to be. I move towards it. Water drips down my legs.

For some reason, I don’t dare to touch the paper. So instead, I just lean forward and read it while leaving it there on the stone slab.

Did you really think that I wouldn’t see you sneaking away to another bathing chamber? I see everything. And don’t even try to rat me out to Draven about this. I haven’t broken any rules. I haven’t physically harmed you. Only humiliated you. Best of luck, Soulstealer.

For a few seconds, all I can do is to stare at that piece of paper.

The silence in the dressing room is suddenly so loud that I can hear the blood rushing in my ears.

Soulstealer . Only one group of people here calls me that. Alistair and his friends.

Still refusing to believe it, I whip my head from side to side, searching desperately for my robe or a towel or anything that I can use to cover myself with. But there is nothing left.

“Fuck,” I curse under my breath.

Dread and panic swirl behind my ribs as I stare at the empty room around me.

Damn. Alistair is smarter than I gave him credit for. He’s right. He hasn’t broken any rules by stealing my clothes. He hasn’t harmed me or attacked me. But he has managed to successfully mess with my head right before the next trial.

Because there is only one thing I can do now.

Walk back through the corridors completely naked and pray to Mabona that no one sees me.

Mortification crashes over me, searing my cheeks. Goddess above, what if someone does see me? How am I ever going to live that down?

I linger in the dressing room, hoping against hope that someone will walk through the door and help me.

But no help arrives.

When my body is completely dry, and no one has miraculously appeared to solve my problem, I’m forced to admit that I’m out of options. I can’t stay here. I need to sleep. And I need to get my clothes before the next trial. Which means that I have to walk back to my room like this.

I glance down at the key that I kept tied to my wrist while in the water. At least that bit of paranoia served me well. I still have the key to my room. All I need to do is to make it there unseen.

Walking over to the door, I edge it open and peer out into the corridor.

It’s empty.

Slinking out the door, I hurry down the corridor and towards the open doorway to the stairwell. When I reach it, I pause outside and just stick my head through.

The wide stone staircase spirals both upwards and downwards. From my position, I crane my neck in every direction and try to see as far as I can. It’s difficult to tell, since the stairs are blocking a lot of the view, but I think it’s empty. At least I don’t hear any footsteps echo between the walls.

But my heart still pounds in my chest as I sneak onto the first step and start upwards on quick and silent feet.

The stairs wind around and around. I have almost reached the next floor. After that, there are only a few more corridors before I reach my room. Hopefully, Alistair and his friends have better things to do than to stand around in the corridor outside their rooms, waiting for me. But considering that he’s an experienced bully, it’s not an entirely baseless fear.

Only three more steps left, then I’ll be up and out of the stairwell. Just?—

A dark figure steps into the stairwell right in front of me.

I stumble to a halt and yank my arms down to protect my private parts. Bracing myself for Alistair’s mocking laughter and scathing remarks, I look up to meet his gaze.

Except it’s not Alistair.

It’s Draven.

The Shadow of Death stands frozen on the first step, his foot hovering halfway to the one below it. His eyes are wide and his mouth slightly open as he stares at me in utter shock. If I wasn’t so exposed and vulnerable right now, I would’ve laughed at the almost comically stunned expression on his usually so composed features.

His gaze darts down my naked body once. Twice. Then, reality at last seems to snap back into him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he demands with such force that I actually flinch.

He at last slams his foot down the final distance onto the step below. The step right above mine.

Instinctively, I back away as he advances on me. But since I wasn’t looking where I was going, my foot slips on the edge of the step and I lose my balance. Throwing out my arms, I flail them desperately to try to get my balance back.

However, before I can fall backwards down the stairs, a hand shoots out and grabs my arm.

My stomach lurches as Draven yanks me up and then spins me around before shoving me back first against the smooth wall of the stairwell. A second later, his massive wings flare out and curve around us. They block out everything else and hide both of us from view.

Dragging air into my lungs, I try to catch my breath after the almost fall. But the breath is snatched right out of my lungs again as I tilt my head back to meet Draven’s eyes.

Anger and disbelief and confusion pulse across his face as he stares me down.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he demands yet again, sounding just as flustered as he looks. “If this is some misguided attempt to seduce me, you’re?—”

“Seduce you?” I interrupt, utterly flabbergasted as I stare back at him. “Why the hell would I try to seduce you?”

“To stop me from trying to get you kicked out of the Atonement Trials.”

A laugh rips from my lungs, and I shake my head at him in disbelief. Then a sly smile blows across my lips as I hold his gaze. “Oh trust me, Shadow of Death, if I was really trying to seduce you, you would know.”

Something almost like heat sears his cheeks for a second, and his gaze drops down my body again for the briefest of moments.

And in that moment, I suddenly remember that I’m still naked. Utterly and completely naked.

I yank my arms back up to cover my breasts and pussy while my cheeks flush a deep shade of red.

Draven snaps his gaze up to my face, and I swear the heat in his cheeks grows worse as well. Then he clears his throat, and that composed mask full of authority slams back down on his face.

“Well then, if it’s not for my benefit, then what the fuck are you doing naked in the stairwell?” he demands.

I press my arms tighter against my body as embarrassment washes over me. “It’s none of your business.”

“Answer the question.”

“Are you deaf or just stupid? I just said it’s none of your business.”

Lightning flashes in his eyes, and he closes the distance between us in one quick stride. His breath dances over my skin as he growls his next words in my face through clenched teeth.

“Answer the fucking question, Selena. Or I swear to God, I will?—”

“Fine,” I snap, interrupting his annoying threats.

Clenching my jaw, I glare up at him. He just stares me down in silence, daring me to disobey. I force out a frustrated breath.

“I was taking a bath, and someone stole my clothes to mess with me,” I admit.

For a fraction of a second, something, some kind of emotion, flashes across his face. But it’s there and gone again so quickly that I’m starting to doubt that I even saw it at all.

He flexes his right hand and grinds out, “Who?”

I briefly consider ratting Alistair out, but I decide against it. Because the infuriating fire-wielder is right. Stealing my clothes isn’t against the rules, so he won’t be punished for it. And if I tell Draven, and he makes a thing out of it, it will only prove to Alistair that he did manage to get under my skin and mess with my head.

So instead, I reply, “I don’t know.”

Draven forces out a long breath through his nose, as if he is barely managing to restrain himself. He clearly doesn’t believe my lie, because he forces out the same word again between clenched teeth. “ Who? ”

“I don’t know!” I shoot him a stare full of challenge and incredulity. “If I had seen who took my clothes, I wouldn’t have let them just walk out with them, now would I?”

He draws his dark brows down in something between a frown and a scowl. Then he heaves a deep sigh and unclenches his hand. He doesn’t admit that my logic makes sense, but he takes a step back.

I remain pressed against the wall, my arms covering as much of my body as I can.

For a few seconds, no one says anything.

Then Draven nods pointedly down at my body. “So your plan was… what? To simply walk back naked for everyone to see?”

He sounds frustrated and annoyed, which just makes me even more angry. He has no right to be annoyed. I’m the one who is naked, for Mabona’s sake!

“What else was I supposed to do?” I snap back at him. “There was nothing left to cover myself with. And I couldn’t just stand there in the bathing chamber all night.”

He flexes his hand again and grinds his teeth. I glare up at him. He stares right back at me.

Tension crackles between us like lightning.

I don’t even understand why he’s so angry. It’s not as if my predicament has any sort of effect on him.

At last, he forces out a long sharp breath and takes a step back. His face takes on an unreadable expression. I’m just about to ask what he’s doing when he tucks his wings back in tight.

A small cloud of black smoke appears in the stairwell.

I blink in surprise as I stare at Draven.

He has shifted into his fully human form, so his wings are now gone. It’s the first time that I have ever seen him without his wings. To my surprise, he looks just as powerful and imposing without them as he does with them.

Then my mind malfunctions as Draven suddenly grabs the hem of his shirt and yanks it over his head.

A small noise escapes from the back of my throat entirely without my permission as I stare at his perfectly sculpted and utterly naked chest. It’s an absolute work of art. I get the completely insane urge to run my hands over his firm pectorals and trace my fingers along the sharp ridges of his abs down to that absolutely sinful V that disappears into his pants.

Reality hits me like a shovel to the face.

Jerking my head back up, I blink and then shake my head to clear it.

But the scene before me still doesn’t make any sort of sense.

Draven, now only wearing a pair of black pants and a set of black bracers on his forearms, takes a step towards me.

Several different scenarios whirl through my head. Each one more unlikely and insane than the last.

Draven raises his hand and shoves something at my chest.

For a while, I can’t make my body do anything. Because I don’t understand one single thing about what is happening here right now.

Then my gaze drops down to what he is pressing against my chest.

His shirt. His soft black shirt.

“Put it on.”

I snap my gaze back up to his face.

He narrows his eyes at me. “Do not make me repeat myself.”

With a light shove, he pushes his shirt harder against my chest.

Utter disbelief swirls inside my skull, and I keep my stunned eyes on his as I reach up and take the offered shirt. He releases it. I just stand there and stare at him. He raises his eyebrows expectantly.

Yanking myself out of my stupor, I hurriedly shake out the large shirt and then pull it over my head. There are slots in the back where his wings are meant to be, but it still covers my nakedness completely.

My heart does a backflip in my chest.

The shirt is still warm. And it smells like him. Like night mist and embers.

Fire flickers through my veins, and my heart pounds against my ribs.

I raise my gaze and meet Draven’s eyes again.

That unreadable mask is back on his face.

Grabbing the collar of my shirt, his shirt, he pulls me closer as he locks a hard stare on me. “This changes nothing.”

Before I can even begin to think of a reply, he releases me with a soft shove, pushing me back against the wall. Then he spins on his heel and stalks down the stairs without another word.

I just stand there against the wall, staring after him.

His intoxicating scent wraps around me and fills my lungs with every breath, and I swear that I can still feel the heat of his body from the shirt that now covers mine.

My heart thumps hard behind my ribs.

My mind spins.

I went down to the bath to clear my head.

But now, my already churning mind is more confused than ever.