Page 27 of The Blood Rites

“A lucky guess.”

A faint smile ghosts briefly across his mouth, though it never reaches his eyes. “I like lucky people.”

“You’re not looking at one.”

“Pity.”

The corner of my mouth almost twitches.

Kael watches me for another long second, and once again I get the terrible feeling that he sees far more than he should. His gaze drifts briefly downwards.

“What are you?” he asks quietly.

The question hits me like cold water, just as it did in the dream, and my pulse stumbles violently. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You do.”

The certainty in his voice frightens me more than the question itself.

Before I can think of a response, Kael steps around me and starts down the corridor, smooth and silent as shadow slipping across stone.

“I’ll see you soon, Luceris,” he says without looking back.

The words sound less like a promise and more like inevitability.

I remain frozen in the corridor for several seconds after he disappears from sight, trying unsuccessfully to steady my breathing.

Eventually, I force myself towards the main chamber.

Marissa spots me immediately and relief floods her face so quickly it twists something in my chest. Beside her, Callen straightens slightly from where he’d been leaning against the wall, though his expression remains carefully neutral.

“There you are,” Marissa says, hurrying towards me. “You disappeared last night.”

“You looked unwell,” Callen adds. “You still do.”

I try to answer casually, but Kael’s voice still lingers uncomfortably in the back of my mind.

“I’m fine.” Neither of them believe me.

Marissa studies my face carefully before lowering her voice. “Was it one of the others?”

I hesitate for a moment. “One of the Shadowborn,” I admit.

Something uneasy flickers across Callen’s expression, and Marissa looks horrified. “They’re frightening.”

“That’s one word for it,” Callen mutters.

“The Fireborn too.” She lowers her voice. “None of them look scared at all.”

Callen folds his arms. “Maybe they aren’t.”

The thought settles heavily between us.

Marissa’s composure finally fractures. She wraps her arms tightly around herself as tears gather abruptly in her eyes.

“This isn’t fair,” she whispers. “I’m not supposed to be here.”

The words hit harder than I expect. “What do you mean?”