Goosebumps rose on his arms, and he couldn’t think of anything to say to the prince. He barely understood it himself. His legs were shaky, but he stood slowly, dusting off his pants. Chills raked through him, and he donned his jacket, popping the collar. He couldn’t meet Marquis’s searching gaze as he started walking.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” In two strides, the prince crossed the empty space between them, grabbing his shoulder, turning him to face him. “You have to tell me what is going on.”
He pulled back. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”
Hurt flashed across his face, and he threw his hands out to his sides. “Why?”
Adair snapped. Snarling, he pushed his finger hard against Marquis’s chest. “Because you are no different than them. You’re only here to find out what you need. Not because you want to be.” Adrenaline coursed through him, his anger stifling.
“Adair, calm down.”
With shaking hands, he started walking again, a thousand unsaid things hanging between them. Marquis followed him at a distance, his features darkening with every step. He didn’t look back again.
When they made it back to the Academy, the sun had started to dip into the horizon, the tinges of dusk painting the sky in a brilliant array of colors. He paused for a moment, taking in the Academy, the courtyard, the hive of a school that had been his home. Marquis brushed past him, shooting him a raised eyebrow before making his way back. He sighed, knowing he should have explained more of what had happened, of how he was feeling.
A tightness constricted through his chest, and he took a step forward the words forming on his tongue, wanting to call the prince back, before that clear voice rang out to him.
“Adair!” Emory threw herself from the rock ledge that was their spot, flying down the hill toward him. She barely glanced at Marquis as she ran by. Her ebony hair was unbound, and she wore a long black jacket and loose pants. Her tied up boots smacked against the ground hard, and she was breathless as she came to the forest’s edge. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” Tinges of pink blossomed across her cheekbones as she searched his face, her mouth frowning delicately at his wounds and dried blood.
Closing his mouth, he looked at Emory. Usually his pulse would race being this close, the endless possibilities of them dancing on his imagination. Brushing by her, he started the climb back to his room, and some much needed sleep.
“Hey, Adair!” She grabbed his hand, pulling him back to face her. Worry crinkled lines at the edge of her eyes as she croaked, “Where have you been?” Shrugging out of her grip, he buried his hands deep in his jacket pockets. His mouth felt dry, and he looked at her, truly looked at her, and he couldn’t muster any words. The silence dragged between them, becoming more uncomfortable with every second. “Adair, say something.”
“I have to go.” The words escaped him clipped and dry, and turning his back he could practically feel her bouncing after him.
“Adair, talk to me.”
Spinning around, he snarled, “About what, Emory? What do you want to talk to the traitor’s son about? How your future is brimming with promise and mine... mine is... ” he sputtered, feeling heat rush up through him.
Hurt flashed across her face as she spat, “I can’t choose my family any more than you can! I have been worried about you! You haven’t stopped for a second to think that I have possibly come to explain myself? To apologize? That I haven’t been waiting for hours?”
He ran a bloodied hand through his hair, his heart pounding viciously against his chest. “No. You were perfectly clear before.”
With narrowed eyes, she jabbed a finger at his chest. “You listen to me, Adair Stratton. I am sorry for what my dad told me, but I can’t control what is happening in this world! We are surrounded by things that don’t make sense, surrounded by secrets and lies and darkness and now a potential war! But after you left, I talked to my dad, and I will not go through this without you beside me. He is reconsidering.” She beamed.
His nails bit into his palms, hidden from her view, and he snarled. “No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
He stepped closer. “I mean, stay away from me. I want nothing to do with you or your family. I don’t need your charity. I don’t need your friendship. I. Don’t. Need. You.” He had contorted, losing himself in the churning anger inside him.
She paled with every word, her eyes brimming as she fiercely snarled. “You don’t mean that! You’re my best friend.”
He cut the last strand of himself lose as he smiled coldly. “Yes, you will find that I do mean it. Leave me alone. You’re better friends with those two mixed halfwits.”
Her mouth hung open and Adair gnashed his teeth before turning away. What had he done? The insult cut deep. Mixed was a term from Roque’s father’s reign. People who were not of a superior birthright and had “tainted” abilities. People like Memphis, whose parents were desolates. People like Brokk, who had no idea about his past. Even people like Emory, whose ability was an anomaly considering her parents. Trudging back up toward the Academy, in the dying sunlight, he knew there was no taking what he had said back. He glanced back once, Emory still frozen at the bottom of the hill, tears streaming down her cheeks. Coldness swept through him as he wrenched his gaze forward, his bitterness filling him. She had chosen her life. It was time he chose his own. What scared him most was that he believed she should have chosen him. All those years of shared secrets, of stifled laughter, of whispers of their dreams, of their fears. Whisked away with the
