The Book Of Cin by H. M. Wolfe

Author:H. M. Wolfe [Wolfe, H. M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-09-14T00:00:00+00:00

Twenty-Seven

I woke to blistering heat, the kind that penetrates through layers of fabric and scorches the skin. The inside of the tent felt like an oven, the air heavy with the faint smell of sweat.

As I shifted, the sweltering air clung to my skin like a reminder of the desolate, unwelcoming place we were in. Through the small opening at the front of the tent, I could see the others already stirring. I pushed myself up onto my elbows and rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

I took a deep breath in, slumping back onto my cot and covering my face with my hands.

I was not ready to face this day.

The Stories hadn’t taught much of other realms; they hadn’t taught much of anything I was starting to realize. But what they had taught about Ammord was not pleasant. Their shape shifting and power of manipulation made them deadly.

My mind wandered to Ata and a hand clamped around my heart. We were about to walk into the one place I knew scared her. The once place that had the magic she had kept hidden, flowing through its veins.

The magic of the Hanth—her people—was rooted in emotional manipulation and the ability they had to shape shift made it almost impossible to realize when they were using it on you. But even after all this time, she had never once used that power on me. Not when she had tried to convince me to leave Taft, or when I had told her I was thinking of staying at the academy. She never pushed me into a choice.

That’s what set her apart from the Hanth. That’s what made her different—her heart. She never let her magic consume her heart.

She had been training her magic with Andrues while we were at the safe house in Redelvtum, and today, she would be using that magic to get us through Ammords streets safely.

I pulled my night shirt over my head. I couldn’t help but replay the events of yesterday in my mind. The new magic that had erupted from me, the way Taft’s hand gripped my wrist—the way Landers’ mouth had felt on mine. I lifted my fingers to my lips and brushed them softly.

I could still feel it.

Things would be different between us now, I was sure of it.

Shaking the thoughts from my mind, I slid into my clothing, flinching at the aches that screamed from my muscles. The adrenaline had finally worn off and now I was feeling every bit of pain.

Looking down at the sheath strewn across the floor, I debated leaving it there before picking it up and strapping it over my chest. I needed to stay prepared. Reaching for the ties to unfasten the tent, I tossed the canvas flap open and halted.

The Gods must be kidding.

There at the entrance of my tent, sat Landers and Taft.

Taft was sitting on a makeshift chair cleaning his axe as Landers lounged under a tree only feet away, casually cutting into an apple. In unison, they looked up at me and my stomach lurched.

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