Zodiac Academy: Fated Throne

by Caroline Peckham

  But the more I tried to convince myself to do it, the more bile rose in my throat and I shuddered with horror at the idea of a world without Lionel Acrux in it until I was practically choking over it.

  I was broken. I knew it. This bond he’d placed on me had done something so twisted that my own thoughts and feelings weren’t entirely my own anymore. But I was also a slave to this connection one way or another. And if I wanted to maintain enough of myself to stand a chance of ever escaping him, then I knew I had to accept this side of it for now. I’d lay here in a bed with my enemy and dream of the day that this nightmare would end. But until then, I was going to have to seek solace in his arms again and again and again.

  As he and Clara quickly fell asleep, I just lay there, waiting until I could be certain that I could leave without them noticing and trying not to overthink how good it felt to be in his arms and how much I'd been needing this.

  I walked along the dark tunnels beneath the palace grounds with a Faelight hovering ahead of me to illuminate the way. I was dressed in a fitted black leggings and sweater combo to help keep me hidden for when I started sneaking around later. I was still working on perfecting illusions and as Highspell was about as useful a Cardinal Magic teacher as a rotten turd, I was struggling. There was only so much I could learn from books and what I really needed was a good teacher. The Heirs were swamped with their own work and they were already giving me extra combat lessons. I couldn’t take up more of their time.

  Lucky you’re going to see your old professor then.

  The thought came out of nowhere and I immediately rejected it. I wasn’t going to ask him for help. But then again…I didn’t know how long I was going to have to wait with him before Tory showed up. I was going to have to say something to him. So maybe keeping our conversation on work was a good idea. It definitely beat making small talk or dipping into uncomfortable territory like all the crap that hung between us. And it would absolutely beat sitting there in deathly silence.

  I headed up the passage that led to the hatch and soon arrived beneath it, hesitating as I fought away the dread in my stomach over what was waiting for me beyond it. The worst thing was, I wanted to see him. And that made me want to boob punch myself because I should have been done pining for him a long time ago.

  Well I can’t linger here like a bad smell for the rest of eternity.

  I sighed and reached up to press my hand to the Hydra symbol on the wood. It clicked open and I pushed it up a second before someone else took hold of it and Orion appeared above, crouching down as he looked in at me. A beat of silence passed where my eyes became stuck on his like glue and my lungs decided they no longer worked automatically. Seriously, how do I even goddamn breathe??

  He’d shaved his beard back to a coating of stubble and his hair was cut neatly and swept back over his head. He looked how he used to before our whole world had imploded and I was captured by the need to move closer to him. But there was no chance of me acting on that urge.

  “Hi,” he said in a deep tone that resounded right through my bones and I gave him a tight smile in response.

  “I can get out if you move aside,” I said and he frowned.

  “You can also get out if you give me your hand,” he countered and my heart did somersaults as I gazed up at him with pursed lips.

  He gave up with a sigh, standing and moving away from the hole. I cast air beneath my feet and flew up into the kitchenette, kicking the hatch closed as I landed on the floor.

  The place was dark, just a couple of lamps on in the corners and my gaze hooked on a book resting open on the arm of a chair beside one of them. A bottle of bourbon was down to the dregs beside it and the scent of it hung in the air, reminding me so viscerally of him that my lungs seized up again. Whiskey and my ex were apparently a deadly combination. Get a grip, dammit.

  I glanced at him, feeling the silence stretching already and his jaw ticked angrily as he gazed at me. Had I pissed him off? Probably. Did I give a shit? Absolutely not.

  I headed away from him just so I could breathe again and I moved to examine the large blue dresser which was busy with beautiful little ornaments. I picked up a delicate seahorse carved from stone and ran my thumb along the ridges of its back, wondering how long I could stand here examining it for before I looked like a crazy person.

  “Do you want a coffee?” he asked, heading to the coffee machine.

  “Sure.” I shrugged, stealing a glance at him and taking in the smart blue shirt that was hugging his muscles. He had smart pants on too like he was dressed for work and the way they clung to his ass was just fucking perf – get your eyes off his ass, dipshit! “Milk and-”

  “One sugar, I know,” he growled, not looking at me as he grabbed two mugs out of the cupboard, slammed them down on the counter then set about brewing the coffee like the angriest man in the world. I swear he broke the machine at one point and punched it to get it going again.

  I placed the seahorse down and moved across the room, gazing at the seating options. I settled on perching awkwardly against the back of the couch, half leaning, half sort of sitting and unsure what to do with my arms. Do they normally just hang there like that??

  “Is everything…okay?” I asked.

  “Lionel attacked Darius, stabbed him with a fucking steak knife,” he muttered and my breath snagged.

  “Is he alright?” I gasped.

  “He is now,” he sighed and my breathing eased a little.

  God, we needed to deal with Lionel. I hated that so many of the people I cared about were at risk all the time. Whenever Tory or Darius had to go to him, I wanted to scream. And now Darius had been hurt and it wasn’t like it was the first time either. He probably didn’t even tell me about half the times his father laid into him. And though Tory still hadn’t spoken to me about exactly what Lionel had done to her, I’d gleaned enough from the haunted look in her eyes to know it was something terrible. It awoke a monster in me that needed cold, hard vengeance. And I wouldn’t rest until I got it.

  I kept my gaze on the swimming pool beyond the tall windows, the moonlight rippling across its surface as I wrestled with my demons.

  Silence hung between us for so long that I swear I could hear every drop of water filtering through the coffee grains.

  Orion finally walked over to me, handing me a mug with a raincloud on it and standing far too close for me to be able to think straight.

  “Are you going to sit down or continue to perch there like a constipated owl?” he asked dryly and my lips dared to twitch.

  “T’wit-twoo,” I made an owl sound as my answer and he pressed his tongue into his cheek before walking away to stare out the window.

  I cupped the coffee mug between my hands, casting a little ice on my palms to cool it down before taking a sip.

  A breeze howled against the summerhouse and rattled the windows while I gazed at Orion’s back before my eyes slipped down to his ass again. For fuck’s sake.

  “Can I ask you something?” Orion asked and I ripped my eyes away from his butt.

  “You just did,” I pointed out.

  He glanced over his shoulder at me with one of his professor looks and I suddenly felt far hotter than the coffee in my mug. Not that he was going to have any idea of how much he was affecting me. I knew how to keep my emotions on lockdown these days. And it wasn’t just that, I could handle them better too. He might have destroyed me when he ruined us, but he’d made me stronger as well. I guessed sometimes you had to watch your walls crack and crumble so you could figure out how to build a better kingdom.

  I rolled my eyes and shrugged. “Go on then.”

  He turned back to face the window, taking a long sip of his coffee before he spoke. “Are you always going to hate me?”

  My chest cleaved apart and I let the silence stretch as I bit my tongue on all the things I wanted to say in response to that. I wish I could hate you, but I feel something far worse than that. A love that won’t die for the man who broke me.
<
br />   He turned to me again just as the clouds drew over the moon outside and a rumble of thunder sounded in this distance, the storm drawing in. My heart missed a full beat and I tried to push down my emotions before he caught a glimpse of them.

  “I don’t hate you, Lance,” I admitted.

  He was cast in shadow so I couldn’t see his expression in response to that, but he started moving closer again, his steps slow and deliberate in that way of his that suggested he was always one moment away from becoming a bloodthirsty predator.

  “And why not?” he asked, his tone deadly like I was angering him. Did he want me to hate him?

  I considered giving some bullshit answer that meant nothing, but I found I didn’t want to. I’d had a thousand conversations in my head with Orion since he’d gone to prison. Conversations I’d been owed. Explanations I’d been denied. If he wanted my truth then fine, because maybe that meant I’d get his in return. And maybe I might finally get some damn closure. Because no matter how hard I’d tried to move on from him, it felt like I hadn’t moved a single inch away from wanting him. I guessed the promise I’d made to him really had meant something to me, unlike it had for him.

  “I don’t hate you because I know what you did wasn’t spiteful. Unless I’ve got you all wrong, I assume you didn’t throw yourself into Darkmore as an easy way out of our relationship.” The joke came out kind of bitter, and I couldn’t say I felt bad about that.

  Orion nodded, taking that in and draining his coffee before planting the mug down on an ornate silver table. “So why do you think I did it?”

  I scoffed, shaking my head at him. “I don’t know, Lance, you never gave me the courtesy of an explanation.”

  He rushed toward me at speed and I cast a solid air shield around me before he could get close. He stopped just before it, his hand brushing the barrier and he released a furious breath through his nose.

  “An explanation?” He laughed a cold, mirthless laugh. “You have no fucking idea, do you?”

  “About what? How you broke our promise? Or how you ripped out my heart and tore it into fifty pieces? Or was it the part where you gave me no choice in any of it?” I demanded, my temper rising as I shoved my coffee cup between the two couch cushions behind me to keep it there.

  He tsked. “You think I wanted it to be this way? I had no fucking choice.”

  “Bullshit,” I snarled, dropping my shield in favour of shoving him in the chest with a gust of air as my anger spilled over. I hadn’t wanted this. I’d planned to come here and keep things simple, but maybe I should have realised that things with him would never be that. And now we were going there, I couldn’t stop my rage from pouring out.

  He growled as he stumbled back a step, but did nothing to counter the air I kept blasting at him.

  “There’s always a choice, and you chose to ruin us.” I’d suppressed all of this for so long, and why shouldn’t I say my piece?

  He bared his fangs, his muscles bunching. “You think I wanted to give you up? You think any of this has been easy for me?”

  “You were the one who made it hard!” I yelled, my Phoenix flames tingling against the inside of my skin. “You didn’t have the right to make that choice for me.”

  “It was the only way,” he pushed and I gave up on blasting him with magic, throwing my palms into his solid chest instead.

  “You don’t get to decide my life for me, Lance,” I snapped. “You could have died in that fucking prison. And what the hell for?”

  He captured my wrists as I tried to shove him once more, his eyes blazing. His skin on mine was the most tempting kind of torture, heat melting into my blood and calling me to him.

  He remained silent and I yanked my hands free of his grip, turning my back on him and putting some distance between us again as I moved across the room. Rain started to patter against the windows, and I gazed out at the dark droplets smattering the glass.

  Nothing. He gave me nothing. Even after all this time, he still wouldn’t give me an answer to why he’d done it. It didn’t matter if Darius had tried to convince me of one reason or another, the only person I needed to hear it from was Orion. And his silence spoke volumes.

  My Atlas buzzed in my pocket and I took it out, finding a message from Tory saying she was on her way, but she was waiting for Jenkins to stop hovering around on the stairs.

  “Is that him?” Orion grunted and I turned around again as I shot her a reply.

  “Who?” I muttered, dropping into an armchair and watching the rain. Anything but look at the guy who was the reason it felt like a knife was sliding into my heart and twisting.

  “Seth,” he said icily, his shadow looming in my periphery as he drew closer again.

  “What does it matter?” I said, following the path of a droplet as it weaved its way down the glass.

  “It matters because he’s a fucking asshole,” he growled.

  “Things change,” I said firmly.

  He tutted. “How? The guy cut off your hair and fucked with us for months.”

  “He also saved your life and was there for me when you weren’t,” I said scathingly, a part of me regretting the callous blow, but another more bitter part of me wanted to hurt him for hurting me.

  He remained silent for so long that I couldn’t resist looking over at him and the hurt in his eyes made my stomach knot.

  “He’s changed,” I went on, my tone softening a little.

  “Are you…happy?” he asked in a gruff tone.

  “Happy?” I scoffed, glaring at him. “No, Lance, I’m not happy. I won’t be happy until Lionel is dead and I know that everyone I care about is going to be okay. That everyone in the kingdom will be okay. What he’s doing to people, to the Tiberian Rats…” I shook my head as emotion welled in me, threatening to rip me open.

  He moved to sit in the chair opposite me, running his palm over his face as he sat back in it.

  “I know,” he said heavily. “It’s fucking awful.”

  “I just feel so helpless to it,” I breathed, balling my hands into fists. “And dwelling on it only makes it worse.”

  “Well…maybe we should talk about something else,” Orion suggested and I nodded, needing that. “How’s school?”

  I frowned. “It’s okay.”

  “Liar,” he murmured and I sighed.

  “Fine, it sucks. Everyone’s miserable, the Orders are forced to be apart, I can’t grasp the next level of illusion spells because Highspell won’t demonstrate anything and just throws me in detention if I try to question her. She basically won’t pay attention to any of the ‘lesser’ Orders at the back of the class and, not surprisingly, all of us back there are starting to fail.”

  “Why the fuck are you at the back of the class?” he snarled.

  “Because I refused to go along with Lionel’s Orderist bullshit,” I said heatedly and a smirk tugged at his lips.

  “Well fuck Honey Highspell, beautiful, I’ll help you with whatever it is,” he said and my throat thickened at what he’d called me. He hurried on like he was trying to ignore that little slip while I held my breath. “I mean, if you want me to.” He shrugged and I tugged my lower lip between my teeth as I nodded.

  Anything was better than sitting here and dying of awkwardness. His dark eyes stilled on my mouth for a second and the world seemed to fade into a blurry grey haze around me.

  I cleared my throat. “I can picture just how I want the illusion to look, but whenever I do the cast it comes out wrong,” I explained.

  “Show me,” he encouraged and I swiped his book from the arm of my chair, realising it was an old tome about dark concealment spells. I laid it in my lap and focused on the leather cover, flexing my fingers over it as I pictured a different cover until King Arthur and The Knights of the Round Table appeared over it. Only it wasn’t quite right, the faces were off and the colours didn’t fit. It was clear to see it wasn’t a decent illusion if anyone looked close enough.

  “Why did you pick that book?” he
asked in surprise and I shrugged.

  “It was the first one that came into my head,” I said and he frowned, pushing out of his seat as he moved across the room to a bookshelf and plucked another book off of it.

  He shot back over to me and knelt down at my feet, placing the book on my knee beside the one I’d disguised.

  “There’s a step you’re missing in illusion. Honey was never any good at it in her training.” He sniggered and my mouth pulled up at the corner.

  “But surely she’s hiding behind fifty beauty illusions, the woman shines like the damn moon,” I said.

  He grinned darkly, shaking his head. “It’s paid for. She holds the spells of others in that ugly necklace she wears.”

  I released a laugh. “Please tell me she looks like the ass end of a rhino normally.”

  “I don’t know, I’ve never seen her without that necklace, but I reckon she’s at least got warts and a hunchback,” he said.

  “Maybe she has rotten teeth and a beak for a nose too.”

  His hand slipped to the edge of the book, his fingers grazing my thigh as he chuckled. The sound made my toes scrunch up in my shoes and I quickly flattened my smile and looked back at the books. Nope.

  “So what am I missing?” I asked.

  “You need to practise memory imprinting,” he said. “The more recently you saw something, the better your memory of it is to create an illusion. But that’s very limiting. Unless the memory is particularly clear, you’ll never be able to create a perfect image without memory imprinting.”

  “How does it work?” I asked, my heart thumping a little harder as he met my gaze and I felt myself leaning closer to him without really deciding to. I mentally yanked myself back by the hair because hell no.

  “You tried to conjure the image in your mind of this book from some old memory, but to become really proficient at this, you need to start building new, imprinted memories that you can access for illusions whenever you need them.”