He stood awkwardly, the weight of Roque’s words falling on his shoulders. It did once, as a young boy. A young boy who dreamed of a full life and pined on childish whims. Now, as he was on the brink of entering his manhood, he sought out one thing above all else. The truth.
The truth of his past, the truth of the Academy. The truth of the hearts of the Faes and Strattons and how they upheld their students.
A flash of sympathy crossed their leader’s eyes, and he rested a strong hand on his shoulder. “You will understand fully one day. With all dreams comes sacrifice. With all freedom comes some form of cage. It is the lesser of two evils that we all must learn to live with.”
Casting his eyes toward the floor, Brokk was unable to find his words. Nei’s sharp gaze flickered between them, and Roque murmured, “You are dismissed with a warning. But if I hear of this sort of thing again or you are brought to me, then there will be consequences.”
Heat flushed his cheeks and Brokk dipped his head. “Thank you.”
With that, he quickly found his feet, and turning, flew from the room. Clicking the door shut, fast low voices danced at him from behind it, and that strong sense of warning pulled at his gut again. Not right, not right. Ripping himself away, he sauntered down the hallway. He needed to find Memphis. Something wild and dark was churning for them all in the shadows—he could feel it. He tried to control his galloping pulse, but every step, every thought, brought him closer to his conclusion. The Faes and Strattons were hiding something at the heart of the Academy. He had every intention of finding out what it was.
2
Adair
He was transfixed by the way Emory moved. Locks of her black hair trickled forward and her slender body was animated as she was lost in what she was saying. The words were a distant hum, never truly reaching him but wrapping his mind with their warmth. It felt so good to be talked to without the condescension from his parents or the withering looks of fellow students.
The afternoon air brushed his cheek, bringing him back to his pressing thoughts. As usual, he was completely and utterly at Emory Fae’s mercy. She radiated with life, and Adair clung to it desperately. Chewing his inner lip, he tried to slow his hammering heart, his clammy palms. To suffocate the urge to lean over and run his thumb over her lower lip, to cup her face. To lower his lips on hers and just feel what it would be like, to know the possibilities they held together.
But like every other day of his life, he pushed his roaring emotions deep down, chaining them in the restraints of his core. The afternoon had passed with their parents going over maps and possible borders his father would go to next with his brainless group. Roque and his father were constantly butting heads while Nei and his mother, Bresslin, talked quietly. He and Emory had sat in the back, watching and ever dutiful. But as always, he was watching her. Glimpses of her full lips quirking to the side in her crooked smile. How she tucked her long, ebony hair behind her ear. How her eyes reminded him of the forest at night, deep and full of secrets. How when she was excited or mad, her high cheekbones flushed deeply. Her laugh. Her scowl. Her stubbornness. Her entirely.
Breathing in the deep scent of summer, he tried to relax as they sat on the ledge of the grey boulder they had scaled. Leaning back, he soaked up the sun, the afternoon passing in their favorite hiding spot. Overlooking the valley, the expanse of rolling fields and woods that encompassed their world was at their feet. He knew with every passing day the ownership of his heart was being whittled away. A slow warmth spread through him at the thought because when it came to Emory, there was no other way he wanted his story to be written. The first time they had met, he had known they were destined to be together. Her light had always complimented his darkness, and he was utterly—in every sense—entranced by it.
“Adair?”
Snapping out of his thoughts, he stole a glance at her and faltered, looking forward. The sun sat lazily in the sky and time seemed to stop, each stolen brush of fingers and sly smile tucked away for them both. He was her confidant. Who else could relate to what it felt like to uphold their family’s reputations? The pressure, the constant scrutiny. He internally cringed, echoes of his father’s criticisms filling him. You are the best and the strongest, Adair. We are elite. Better than the fools who occupy this place. You will understand, my son, there is more to life than a teenage boy’s desires. You will see that you deserve to rule. To be mighty. To grow out of this place.
He sighed, wishing about a life not filled with kings, with power ruling over heart. That alone was dangerous.
The bustle of the Academy had quieted, classes resumed, and the forest that surrounded them had slowed in the haze of the afternoon except for the gentle tousle of the wind. To him, Kiero was endless, the Academy acting as his prison. He yearned for more, to see the world, to experience what it had to offer him, to spend his days challenging himself, finding adventure and never stopping, never looking back. Not being a puppet for a life he had never chosen for himself.
Adair sighed, murmuring, “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
Emory gravitated slightly closer, only an inch, but to him it felt like his skin was ignited into flames. He clenched his hands, stopping himself right there.
Breathe.
“What did you take away
