Page 182 of Emylia

A ward.

And then I saw it—Sebastian, encased in his own protective shell. Then Maalikai, his face stunned as he reached out and touched the invisible barrier around him.

My mother dropped to her knees, her strength draining.

I bolted foward, throwing my arms around her, lending her everything I had. Everything I was.

And then… silence.

The water retreated. The lake smoothed.

Like nothing had ever happened.

I was soaked, shivering. The weight of the surge still thrumming in my bones.

But I smiled.

Because for the first time…

The magik had listened when I’d called.

ChapterThirty-Nine

Irubbed the sleep from my eyes as I made my way down to the mess hall. As I stepped inside the stone-walled chamber, the scent of warm bread and pan-fried meat wrapped around me like a familiar blanket.

The soft clatter of cutlery and murmurs of half-awake conversation echoed off the cold walls, a quiet comfort in the still-early light.

Sunlight spilled through the high windows, catching on steam curling from mugs of spiced tea and fresh pastries warm from the ovens.

The scent of minced fruit and golden-bronzed pastry curled through the air–sweet, rich, and shamelessly inviting. Buttery warmth mingled with the tang of stewed fruit, wrapping around me like a promise, and my stomach growled like I hadn’t eaten in days.

Wildflowers lined the tables, baby’s breath scattered through the arrangements, curling down the length of the oak tabletop. Pops of white broke through the mismatched plates and beeswax candles that weren’t yet lit with flame.

I slid into an empty seat at the long table, rubbing the remaining sleep from my eyes. The spot across from me was already taken—flame-red hair and a pile of fruit on her plate.

Evie.

She didn’t look up. Just sliced an apple with meticulous care, her knife flashing in the morning light.

“Didn’t peg you for an early riser,” I said, trying for casual.

She glanced up at me through long lashes, something sharp and unreadable in her gaze. Her hair caught the light and shone like flames.

“Didn’t peg you for the talkative type.”

Fair enough. I kind of deserved that.

I just couldn’t tell if she was teasing or being serious–her expression gave nothing away.

I reached for a hunk of bread, tearing it with more force than necessary. “You always cut your fruit like it’s the enemy?”

A twitch at the corner of her lips. Almost a smile. “Only when I’m sitting across from someone whoismy enemy.” The ghost of a grin lifted the corner of her mouth, now I definitely knew she was teasing.

I snorted. “Well, lucky for you, I’m too tired to be devious.”

We fell into silence—the kind that stretches between two people who haven’t decided whether they’re going to be allies or adversaries. Truthfully, I still didn’t know how I felt about her–or the creeping realization that she might be a far more worthy adversary than I’d first believed.

So I kept my walls raised, at least until I could fully trust her. The fact that she hadn’t revealed my weaponry skills or magik? That was definitely working in her favour.

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