Page 92 of Anomalies

I wait until Pax crouches at my side, then I hurl my elbow into his diaphragm. It knocks him off balance long enough for me to scramble back to my feet. “I told you not to go easy on me.”

“Lucina,” Callan pulls my attention, every inch of him rigid. “I’m not going to sit here and watch⁠—”

“Then don’t,” I cut him off. “You’re leaving, and you won’t be able to intervene when you’re gone.”

A bitter sort of understanding flashes across his face, but I can’t rely on him for protection. I can’t rely on any of them for that matter. If what Delia said was true, I’d always be a threat to someone, and I’d always have something to defend, if not my power, then my life.

Be a weapon, that’s what the instructor would tell us, in body and mind. I took those classes with Ivy because the one thing I never want to be is vulnerable. I never again want to count chips in the paint, taking punishment like it was something I deserved, for merely existing. For showing up out of the blue and throwing a wrench in Merrill’s drinking schedule. For ruining Catherine’s dream of two boys with blonde hair and blue eyes. For ruining everything.

I became my own protector– the only person I could count on.

“Again,” I say to Pax.

We all meet by the Banyan hours later, the sun still burning, but the heat has died down. We spent all afternoon in the Yard, fighting until we had to take Pax to the infirmary to heal the broken nose I had given him.

The three of them fight like they were born in the training ring and when they finally stopped taking it easy on me, I got my shit rocked. Multiple times. Hunter yanked my foot out from underneath me with such force that I slammed into my wrists, and I’m fairly certain something tore. Gemma fixed it when we got to the infirmary, and Callan avoided her death glare like the plague.

“I need one of you by her side at all times,” the Captain tells Pax and Hunter.

Devon, Easton, and Phoenix are waiting by the trunk of the Banyan tree. They’re all heavily armored, donning the suits and weaponry they were wearing when they found me on that beach. Their padded vests are more like pitch black breast plates, and the rest of the armor is sleek and littered with compartments.

“Don’t let her out of your sight,” Callan adds. “Lucina is fond of sneaking out windows.” His brows knit as he surveys me. “Check on her throughout the night.”

I grind my jaw. Small kink in my plan, but it’s fine, I’ll figure it out. I force an innocent smile. “Good call.”

He’s onto me now, that grey hue in his eyes darkening, but what’s he going to do? Accuse me of something I haven’t done? Yet.

The Captain sighs, long and drawn out, then he stalks forward until he’s toe to toe with me. “Lucina, if I come back, and you aren’t breathing, through your own foolishness or theirs…” His back straightens like a predator coming to its full height, then he nods to Pax and Hunter. “They will pay for it.” Big kink in my plans. “So, don’t you dare get yourself killed.” His eyes catch light like shards of silver-stained glass. “Wouldn’t want their blood on your hands.”

My smile falters. “Of course not.”

The corner of his mouth curves upward. “We’ll be back before Selumira.” I flinch at the flash of gold that illuminates the drooping limbs of the Banyan, the portal yawning open like a beast whose sleep has been disturbed. I watch as Phoenix melts into the velvet gold, then Easton, then Devon⁠—

Callan grips my chin, tilting it gently until I meet his stare. “Be good, Chaos,” he whispers.

And then he’s gone.

The portal closes, the quiet night settling in around us, and the Eldral is a heavy weight in my pocket.

22

LUCINA

Iwait until the house is quiet, then I slip out the window.

I have an hour, maybe less, until Hunter does another bed check. I rearranged the pillows to make it look like I’m sleeping, but Hunter’s attention to detail is borderline supernatural. The second he opens the door to my room, he’ll know.

The night air is humid and thick as I move quietly through the edge of the forest. The only sound is the crickets, and the distant gurgle of water as I cross the path, then jump a few feet down to the creek bed.

I empty my pockets on a nearby rock, laying out the folded parchment with the Sol Marks Callan unknowingly taught me, a thin piece of chalk, and most importantly…

The deep blue gem flickers as it catches starlight, the gold chain it’s attached to clinking softly against the damp rock as I set it down.

This might just be the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.

Or maybe not. Maybe I can solve all of my problems right here, right now, then be done with it. That was the plan, at least. I’ve had enough of being terrorized at night, long, bony fingers reaching out to me.

My plan is simple—hear what he has to say, then get my Velkan to back the fuck off.