She chewed her lip, whispering, “At least a day ago.” His mind spun. Foster and Carter had a bad habit of keeping tabs on him. If they were digging, then they would be following his same path for answers about what exactly the Academy was hiding.
He gently smiled at Emory. “I will make sure to find them.” They were already too late for what they were searching for.
She beamed. “Thank you.”
A velvety voice sounded behind them. “Emory?”
Adair snapped his attention at the sound of his voice. Marquis stood behind them, his emerald hair disheveled, his hands buried in the pockets of his ebony jacket. At the far side of the hall, chairs and tables were screeching back, the pounding of drums beating through the crowd as people gathered. They had started the Kedshima. A traditional respect paid at funerals, was the dance of abilities.
Emory looked at the young prince, tilting her head. “Marquis?” Looking deeply uncomfortable, he fidgeted. “Would you... erm—I mean would you do me the honor of being my partner?”
Her gaze also trailed to the siren call of the pounding drums, of the partners gathering, standing across the room from one another. With a dark spark in her eyes, she dipped her head. “It would be my pleasure.”
Sitting back, he watched as Emory followed Marquis through the throng of people, the drums picking up speed, pounding in double time. Sparks cut through the air, crackling and popping as the embers flared. His nails dug into his palms. He took a deep swig of mulled wine, the taste of crisp berries and taunting spices filling his senses. The world seemed to slow as Marquis bowed low, Emory returning the gesture, and then they walked to opposite sides of the room.
Nei grabbed his hand, squeezing gently. “With those two, it ought to be a show.” The drums stilled, and then he recognized Wyatt as he roared, “Let the Kedshima begin!”
Beautiful, untamable chaos ensued. The drums picked up in an alluring tempo as abilities exploded. The push and pull of energy expanding in such a small space, sent shivers rippling across his body. To the far left, a young student ran toward her partner, dodging the fire that flared and roared from his palms, dropping to her knees as leafy vines exploded from her, meeting the flames, becoming an entanglement of ash that exploded around them. To the right, Wyatt and Jaxson gravitated around each other, grinning wolfishly as Wyatt disappeared and reappeared, Jaxson multiplying himself by the minute. Fire met ice, ice met ash, and stars erupted from the clash of might that shuddered through the room. His pulse thrummed as he watched entranced, yet unable to do anything, as Emory became the predator she was born to be before his eyes. Her dark hair was swept back, and she walked toward Marquis, a slight smile splayed on the corner of her lips. He tilted his hand, mischief etched into his features. He clapped his hands together and it was like they were transported to the heart of the Black Sea.
Thunder rolled as the wind picked up, and water crashed toward her, black and churning, with one promise. To consume. Running full tilt, Emory aimed straight for the middle of the mighty waters spouting from Marquis’s palms. Adair saw her plan unfold before him, but he also knew the prince and his secret. Emory was hoping to reach the prince through the waters, because once she had contact with him, it was game over. She had no idea she was running straight into a giant shield. Emptying his glass, he stood, hearing Nei’s distant questions fade behind him. The other partners had stepped to the sidelines, the drums continuing to pound, rattling their souls. They all watched as the contained waters from the Prince of the Shattered Isles roared toward their princess, both parties emitting a calm confidence, each thinking they had the upper hand. Adair watched Emory succumb to the waters, crashing into them and submerging herself. Her arms were powerful as she swam, cutting through the water, only to find herself trapped in a massive roaring orb. Her brows furrowed, confused at the sudden wall she was met with.
Marquis winked roguishly, whispering, “Game over, Princess.” Dropping his hands, the orb stopped, crashing Emory to the ground in a sputtering mess. Claps and roars of approval pounded through the room as Marquis mock bowed. Emory, looking half-drowned, laughed, laying on the ground. Her clear voice cutting right through his heart. Adair stopped, exhaling hard, not realizing he had been holding his breath. The room filled with chatter, with laughter, with light and love. He could feel Nei’s gaze burning into his back, and he was about to turn slowly when he heard it.
The room seemed to dim, everyone fading to the background. The boisterous and alluring scents and glamour of the party swept from his mind. Adair. Adaiiiir. They are coming. His heart faltered as the smell and tang of winter filled his senses. The roars and echoes of bloodthirsty cries climbed through him, the promise of death lingering on his tongue. They are coming for all of us. The ancient essence that was locked around his heart stirred, images cutting through his mind. The forest crystallizing into a world of ice, his mother swiftly leading an army not seen by man before. And the Academy, sitting, waiting, as the icy world raced toward them. Act now, Adair. Or die with them.
His heart hammered against his ribcage; he was certain it was going to break through his chest, shattering him. A trickle of sweat ran down his neck, flushing his skin, with fire and ice.
“Roque, darling, are you okay?” Nei’s voice was tentative as he spun, the darkness roaring within him. It was all he could see, could taste, could feel. His world was ripped apart, and he was in the middle of everything, unable to do anything but watch. A slow
