Page 70 of Awakened Destiny
We emerge outside, the night air cool against my skin. The mist that perpetually shrouds the academy seems to part before us as Marius leads me away from the main grounds, deeper into the surrounding forest.
The path grows narrower, wilder.
"How much farther?" I ask, stepping carefully over a gnarled root.
"Not far now."
The trees begin to thin, and soon I spot a small clearing ahead. In its center stands a cottage, so modest it seems almost deliberately unremarkable. Smoke curls from its chimney, and warm light spills from its windows.
"This is it?" I can't keep the surprise from my voice.
"The best hiding places are often in plain sight," Marius says, squeezing my hand. "Ready?"
I take a deep breath
"Ready."
But I'm not. My stomach churns with a sickening mix of anticipation and dread. These people have been fighting against the Council for years while I've only just learned about my powers weeks ago. What if they reject me? What if they see me as an imposter? A girl playing at being queen with powers she doesn't deserve.
My shadow magic pulses beneath my skin, responding to my anxiety. I try to rein it in, knowing that losing control now would only confirm their worst suspicions.
"They'll listen to you," Marius says, reading my expression. "But not if you show fear."
"I'm not afraid," I lie.
Marius smirks, seeing right through me. "Then stop strangling my hand."
I release my death grip on his fingers, not having realized how tightly I'd been holding on. The cottage waits, silent and watchful. Inside are people who could become my strongest allies or my deadliest enemies. This moment could shape everything that follows. My reign before it even truly begins.
"Whatever happens in there," I say, "thank you for believing in me."
Marius looks at me with an intensity that makes my heart stutter. "Always."
We cross the clearing together, and Marius knocks on the door, three sharp raps.
The door swings open. I step inside.
The cottage interior is larger than it appeared from outside. A single room holds about a dozen people, all of whom turn to stare at us as we enter. The fireplace casts their faces in sharp relief, hard expressions with guarded eyes. They stand in a loose semicircle.
A man separates himself from the group. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a face that's obviously seen more than one fight. A jagged scar cuts from his left temple to his jaw, and his eyes are cold as they sweep over me.
"So," he says, "this is her?" He looks me up and down and sneers.
Before I can respond, Marius steps in front of me. I recognize the deadly readiness in his stance.
"Watch your tone, Kieran," Marius warns.
The man—Kieran—spits on the floor.
I place my hand on Marius's shoulder and step around him, ignoring his subtle attempt to keep me behind him.
"I can speak for myself," I say, meeting Kieran's gaze directly. My voice comes out steadier than I expected. "And I'm not asking for your respect. I haven't earned that yet."
A murmur runs through the assembled rebels. Kieran's eyes narrow, assessing me with new interest.
"At least you admit that much," he says. "Most who come claiming power don't acknowledge what they haven't earned."
Marius moves beside me. "You all know who I am. What I've sacrificed for our cause." His voice rings through the small room.
