Bound by Flame and Illusion (The Firebound Chronicles Book 2) by River Tatum & Michael Anderle

Author:River Tatum & Michael Anderle [Tatum, River & Anderle, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Florid Romance
Published: 2025-02-03T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter

Twenty-Five

Footsteps from the front of the repository made them both tense. Then Rhema’s voice reached them in a muted whisper: “Celina, Aremus—I hear something outside.”

Celina tucked the ledger under her arm and motioned Aremus to follow. A subtle pang from the blood-pact flared in her chest as they navigated back to the main aisle. Her heart hammered, fear spiking. If Wynn’s men barged in, illusions might not be enough to hide them thoroughly in so cramped a space.

Rhema crouched near the door, illusions swirling in a faint haze around her ankles. A flicker of candlelight from the window above reflected in her wide eyes. She made a quick sign with her fingers—someone was definitely testing the door. Sure enough, a moment later, the latch rattled softly on the other side. The bolt Celina had thrown earlier kept it closed, but that wouldn’t hold if the door was forced.

Dread coiled like a serpent in Celina’s gut. She spotted a narrow corridor branching off behind the main shelves, leading to what looked like a supply closet or additional storeroom. She beckoned Rhema and Aremus that way. Rhema hurried to meet them, steps ghost-silent, illusions swirling behind her to mask their footprints. The door latch jostled more insistently, followed by a muffled curse from whoever was outside.

Together, the trio slipped behind the tallest shelf at the corridor’s entrance. Celina’s chest cramped, and she had to clamp her lips shut to stifle any sound. The ledger weighed heavily in her hands. She pressed it to her chest, the pages rasping softly against her clothes. The bond thrummed, reminding her to keep Aremus close. Their arms brushed, a fleeting contact that shot unwanted warmth through her. But if she tried to step away, the bond would punish them both, risking a flare of magic bright enough to alert whoever was about to break in.

Magic flared from Rhema’s illusions, forming a subtle curtain of distortion. Celina prayed it would be enough. Because now came the creak of wood as the intruder did something to the bolt. A grunt of effort, then a final snap. Footsteps scuffed inside. Celina could almost taste her own fear.

A beam of bright lamplight swept across the floor, illuminating swirling dust motes. The intruder’s silhouette was tall and broad-shouldered, outfitted in official garments—an imperial official of some kind, or a scribe under Wynn’s command. He coughed quietly, muttering to himself. Celina couldn’t make out all the words, but phrases drifted through. “Encrypted correspondence… must deliver… no mistakes.”

She exchanged a glance with Aremus and Rhema. If this official was dropping off or retrieving something, it could be important. But any move from them risked detection. She forced herself to remain perfectly still, ignoring how her knees trembled with tension. The official shuffled forward, each step painfully loud to her ears. In the gloom, he approached the front table, set down a stack of papers with a soft thump. She glimpsed the uniform’s embroidered crest, a stylized lion wreathed in vines—definitely the monarchy’s symbol.

A hush lingered.

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