Again, she placed a hand over his heart, his wild beat thrumming as she breathed down his neck.
Too close, too close, Adair thought wildly.
“And they are mine.”
The surroundings around them melted away, the screams fading to a pulse in the back of his mind. All he could take in, all he could make out, was her. There was the cackle of flames, and Adair blinked.
Flames roared all around them, uncontrolled and devouring everything they touched. He couldn’t feel the heat or their burn as they licked his skin. The creature giggled before him whispering, “See? They won’t hurt you, can’t hurt you. This darkness, this endless destruction, is what you crave. In all its beauty, and in all its might.”
“No.”
She curled her thin fingers into his collar bone, her voice echoing in his consciousness. “It’s time you accept the darkness in you. Stop. Fighting. Us.”
And with that, she pushed him back, surprisingly strong. Stumbling, he fell into the roaring endless fire, the flames crackling hungrily. He couldn’t tell where the fire began and ended within him; the bronze hues turned inky black.
“ADAIR!”
The black flames, turning his heart to ash.
“Mate, come on!”
The flashes of a world remade. The fear. But also, the greatness. It was all him.
“Do not die on me!! STRATTON!”
And him, sitting on a throne of bones.
The slap across his face was hard and unrelenting. Dots danced in his vision, and Adair took in a huge inhale, his lungs burning for air.
“Oh, thank the Black Sea.” Marquis sat down hard on the ground, shaking his head. His freckles stood out like their own constellations against his deathly pale skin. Blinking, the treetops and the clear afternoon sky came into focus, and Adair realized he was on his back, his limbs splayed around him. His tongue was swollen, dried blood along his lips and underneath his nose. His whole body felt like it had been chewed and patchily put back together.
Lying there, he was stunned, unable to piece together his reality and what had happened. A few minutes passed before he could manage to sit up, rasping, “What happened?”
Marquis choked out a laugh. “Oh, what happened? You mean you saying something was wrong, then freezing and convulsing in a fit the next second... oh and then the screaming? I tried to help you, but I couldn’t and your eyes...”
“My eyes what?” His voice sounded unfamiliar and worn.
Marquis shook his head, and when he looked at Adair, his eyes were wide and full of fear. “They were pitch black. Any trace of you was gone.”
Goosebumps rose on Adair’s 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,” Marquis said.
In two strides, the prince crossed the empty space between them, grabbing his shoulder and turning Adair to face him. “You have to tell me what is going on.”
Adair pulled back. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”
Hurt flashed across his face, and Marquis threw his hands out to his sides. “Why?”
Adair snapped. Pushing his finger against Marquis’s chest, his voice shook as he said, “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,” Marquis said.
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. Adair didn’t look back again.
***
When they made it back to the Academy, the sun was starting to dip into the horizon, the tinges of dusk painting the sky in a brilliant array of colors. Adair paused for a moment, observing the Academy, the courtyard, the hive of a school that had been his home for as long as he could remember.
Marquis brushed past him, shooting him a raised eyebrow before making his way back to his crew. Adair sighed, knowing he should have explained more of what had happened, of how he was feeling.
Tightness constricted 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 to 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. Emory’s 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.
Walking past 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. “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 looking 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, he could practically feel her bouncing after him.
“Adair, talk to me.”
Spinning on his heel, he asked, “About what, Emory? What do you
