As the first light of dawn crept over the rolling hills of Anahate, Zane stood on the dining hall balcony, cradling his morning cup of coffee in one hand and a bonedust cigarette in the other. The wisps of smoke curled lazily into the crisp air, carrying with them the faint scent of ash. His eyes, a deep, piercing blue, gazed out at the landscape, his thoughts a thousand leagues away, lost in the distant city of Visu, where Ace now visited. The solemnity that had settled over him like was like a weight that pressed upon his shoulders and refused to lift. He felt the absence of her like an open wound, raw and aching. The gentle breeze that rustled the leaves of the nearby trees only served to heighten the sense of emptiness within him. Behind him, the sounds of laughter and merriment drifted from the dining hall, a stark contrast to the somber mood that had taken hold of him. Sorelle's bright, tinkling laughter and Thadeus' boisterous antics, usually enough to coax a smile from even the most stoic of individuals, fell flat against the wall of his melancholy. He couldn't bring himself to turn, to join in the revelry, not when his heart felt so heavy with the knowledge that Ace was with Lennon.
Just as it seemed the stillness would consume him whole, a gentle touch on his shoulder broke the spell. Sorelle's soft voice whispered against his ear, "Zane, what's wrong?" The concern in her tone was a balm to his soul, a reminder that he was not alone in his sorrow.
He didn't need to turn to know it was Sorelle who stood behind him, her presence a comforting familiarity that wrapped around him like a warm blanket. She knew him too well, knew the signs of his distress, and had come to offer what solace she could. Her slender fingers wrapped around his arm, a gentle pressure that urged him to turn, to face her, to let her in. With a quiet sigh, Zane allowed himself to be drawn back into the world of the living. He turned meeting Sorelle's gaze, and a look of knowing understanding flashed between them, a silent communication that spoke volumes. She knew, without needing to be told, that his heart was heavy with the weight of Ace's absence, and that he was struggling to find his footing in a world that seemed diminished by her departure.
"You need to join us for breakfast, Zane," she said, her voice soft but firm. "You're stuck in your head. You need to distract yourself, and Ace will be back soon. She'll be home before you know it."
As Sorelle's words trailed off, a faint flutter in her voice caught Zane's attention. The way she spoke of the manor as Ace's home, with such casual familiarity, was a subtle but potent reminder of the bond that had formed between Ace and this place. Zane's gaze faltered, his eyes drifting downward as he felt a pang in his chest. His expression, a mask of calm indifference, betrayed nothing of the turmoil that churned beneath the surface. But for an instant, a flicker of emotion danced in his eyes, a fleeting glimpse of the depth of his feelings for Ace, before he swiftly extinguished it, leaving his face a serene, unreadable mask. Zane nodded, the movement almost imperceptible, but Sorelle's eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled. She knew he understood, knew he needed to be pulled back from the edge of his despair. With a gentle tug, she drew him closer, and he linked arms with her, the familiar gesture a comforting reminder that he wasn't alone. As they approached the table, Zane's gaze swept the gathering, taking in the warm, lively atmosphere that seemed to suffocate him. Thadeus was regaling the group with some outlandish tale, his eyes sparkling with mischief, while the others laughed and joked around him. But Zane's attention was drawn to Valen, who sat at the far end of the table, his eyes fixed intently on Zane. The look in Valen's gaze was unmistakable - a cold, calculated stare that seemed to bore into Zane's very soul. It was a look that said, without words, that Valen was staking a claim on Sorelle, that he considered her his, and that Zane would do well to remember it. Zane's lip curled into a wry smile as he met Valen's gaze, his eyes rolling in a silent, mocking gesture. Little did Valen know, Zane had no interest in Sorelle, not in the way Valen suspected. His heart belonged to Ace, a fact that Ace seemed determined to ignore, to reject. But Zane's feelings for Ace only seemed to grow stronger with each passing day, a constant ache that gnawed at his soul. But he'd given up hope of ever being able to express those feelings, of ever being able to be with Ace in the way he truly desired. But for now, he pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the present moment. He met Valen's stare, his expression calm, almost bored. The tension between them was palpable, a subtle undercurrent that only the most perceptive of observers might have noticed.
But Sorelle, sensing the shift in atmosphere, leaned in close, her voice a gentle whisper in Zane's ear. "Let's not let Valen get under your skin, okay?"
A low, husky laugh rumbled in Zane's chest, a sound that seemed to amuse only him, for Sorelle's eyes sparkled with mirth, but the others at the table remained oblivious to the undercurrents at play. Valen, however, was not so blind. His face darkened, his eyes narrowing as he watched Zane's amusement, his jaw clenched in a tight line. It was as if he sensed that Zane's laughter was directed at him, that he was the one being mocked. The tension between them was like a heavy, unspoken challenge that seemed to vibrate through the air.
But Zane, never one to back down from a confrontation, merely smiled and stood, excusing himself from the table. "I think I'll get a head start on training," he said, his voice light, but his eyes never leaving Valen's face.
Valen's expression twisted in anger, his eyes flashing with a warning, but Zane just smiled and turned away, leaving Valen to seethe in silence. As Zane strode through the courtyard, the warm sun on his face and the cool breeze in his hair, he felt a sense of freedom, of escape, from the suffocating atmosphere of the dining hall. He was almost at the front gates when a loud, aggressive yell cut through the air, making him spin around.
"Zane!" Valen's voice was like a crack of thunder, a challenge that echoed off the stone walls of the manor.
Zane's eyes rolled with a wry smile twisting his lips, as he turned to face Valen. Valen was a picture of indignation, his face puffed up with anger, his golden eyes blazing with a fierce intensity. He strode towards Zane, his long legs eating up the distance between them, and Zane felt a spark of amusement, a sense of detached curiosity, as he watched Valen approach. Valen stopped in front of him, his chest heaving with exertion, his eyes flashing with a warning.
"Stay away from Sorelle," he growled, his voice low and menacing, his face inches from Zane's.
Zane's laughter was a low, husky sound, a gentle taunt that seemed to inflame Valen's temper. Valen's face darkened, his eyes flashing with anger, as Zane's gaze dropped to his chest, his finger extending in a languid gesture.
"What's that?" Zane asked, his voice dripping with amusement, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Valen's gaze followed, his eyes narrowing as he looked down, and for a moment, he seemed to hesitate, his anger faltering. But only for a moment. Zane's next words were like a spark to dry tinder, igniting a firestorm of fury within Valen. "Oh, nevermind," Zane said, his voice a lazy drawl, "it's just your insecurity showing."
The words were like a slap in the face, a challenge that Valen couldn't ignore. With a rattling snarl, he launched himself at Zane, his fists flying in a flurry of punches. Zane, anticipating the attack, sidestepped the first blow, but Valen was relentless, his punches raining down like a hailstorm. Zane countered, his own fists flashing in the sunlight, but Valen was a wild, unpredictable opponent, his blows coming from unexpected angles. The two men clashed, their bodies locked in a fierce, brutal dance, their punches and kicks sending them crashing across the courtyard. The sound of their fight echoed off the stone walls, a cacophony of grunts and snarls, the thud of flesh on flesh. Zane's eyes flashed with a fierce light, his movements a blur of speed and precision, but Valen was a force to be reckoned with, his anger and jealousy fueling his strength. The two Sidhe stumbled, their feet tangling, as they fought for dominance. Just when it seemed that Valen's fury would consume them both, a shout cut through the air.
"Enough!" Thadeus' voice boomed, his feet pounding the stone flags as he sprinted towards the warriors.
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Kiah was hot on his heels, her eyes flashing with a skilled warrior's gaze, her movements economical and precise. Together, the unlikely duo launched themselves at the fighters, Thadeus grabbing Valen's arms, his royal training evident in the way he expertly restrained him. Kiah, meanwhile, wrapped her arms around Zane's waist, her grip like a vice as she pulled him back, her voice a soft, firm murmur in his ear. "Easy, Zane. It's over."
Zane's chest heaved, his eyes still flashing with adrenaline, but he slowly relaxed, his fists unclenching as Kiah's words penetrated the haze of battle. Thadeus, meanwhile, was having a harder time restraining Valen, the other man's anger and humiliation still simmering, his eyes flashing with a malevolent light. But Thadeus held firm, his grip unyielding, his voice a calm, authoritative command. "Valen, stop."
As Valen continued to struggle against Thadeus' grip, Kiah's patience finally wore thin. She turned to him, her eyes flashing with a fierce golden light, her voice a low, commanding growl. "Stand down, Valen!"
The words were like a slap in the face, a sudden jolt of reality that seemed to snap Valen out of the red haze of rage that had consumed him. His body relaxed, his muscles uncoiling as he took a deep, shuddering breath. Kiah's words had a profound effect on Valen, a reminder of the bond they shared, the unbreakable tie that had formed between them in the harsh, unforgiving environment of the ManPuri Valtarean orphanage. They had grown up together, two children adrift in a sea of uncertainty, and Kiah had become the anchor that held Valen grounded. He respected her, trusted her, and would do anything to avoid hurting her. As he looked into her eyes, he saw the concern, the worry, and his anger slowly drained away.
Thadeus, meanwhile, shook his head, his expression a mixture of disappointment and frustration. "This is not the way to resolve our differences," he said, his voice firm but controlled. "There will be consequences for this behavior,"He warned as he gestured toward the crowd that gathered to witness the debacle.
Sorelle remained a silent, observant presence, hovering at the periphery of the crowd with a caution born of concern. Her gaze, a deep, piercing orange, was fixed intently on Zane, her eyes conveying a depth of apology that bordered on anguish. It was as if she feared that her very presence might be the spark that would set off Valen's temper, so she kept her distance. But Zane, his own eyes locked onto hers, merely smiled - a gentle, reassuring curve of his lips that seemed to say, without words, that he understood. The bond that had grown between them during his lessons with Sorelle had forged a connection that went beyond mere teacher and student; they had become friends, their mutual respect and trust growing with each passing lesson. But as Thadeus spoke, the magic of Anahate began to stir, its power coursed through the air like a humming entity, sensing the transgressions of the two males. The very fabric of fate seemed to shudder in response, as if the threads of destiny were being rewoven to reflect the gravity of their actions. With an eerie swiftness, a warning flashed in the holographic wallet vision of both Zane and Valen, a notification that made them both wince.
"Twenty-four hours in the Dread," Zane read, his voice resigned. "Great."
Valen huffed, his face twisting in disgust, but he knew better than to argue. The crowd that had gathered began to disperse, their whispers and murmurs dying down as they realized the fight was over. Thadeus turned to Kiah, his eyes asking for her help in calming the situation. Kiah nodded, her eyes never leaving Valen's face, as she reached out to take his arm.
"Let's get out of here," she said, her voice soft, but firm.
As Kiah's gaze lingered on Zane's rugged features, a flutter stirred within her chest, a sensation she had been desperately trying to suppress. The proximity to him had rekindled the embers of her feelings, and she could feel the warmth spreading through her veins like a slow-burning fire. She had thought she had regained control, had convinced herself that she could keep her emotions in check, but one glance at Zane's chiseled face and piercing eyes had shattered her resolve. The memory of the letter he had written still lingered. Kiah's assignment had been to keep a watchful eye on him, to monitor his every move, but she had found herself becoming increasingly entangled in the web of her own emotions. She couldn't deny the magnetism that drew her to him, a potent attraction that threatened to upend her carefully constructed defenses. There was something about Zane that resonated with her, a quality that echoed the strength and determination she had always admired in Valen. Yet, unlike her brotherly affection for Valen, her feelings for Zane were infused with a different kind of intensity, a spark that refused to be extinguished. Zane's unyielding spirit, his unwavering commitment to his convictions, and his unshakeable sense of self all served as a potent reminder of the qualities she had always been drawn to in Valen. And yet, with Zane, there was an added layer of complexity, a depth of emotion that went far beyond sibling affection. As she turned to lead Valen away, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was leaving a part of herself behind, that she was abandoning the fragile, tentative connection she had formed with Zane. The ache in her chest was a reminder that her feelings for him were far from dormant, and that she would have to confront them sooner or later.
As they walked away, Zane watched them, his eyes narrowing in thought. He knew that Valen's temper was a ticking time bomb, waiting to be ignited. And he knew that he had just lit the fuse. As the tension in the air began to dissipate, Thadeus turned to Zane, his eyes inquiring, and asked the question that had been on everyone's mind: "What was that all about?"
Zane's response was tinged with a hint of reluctance, his voice low and measured as he replied, "Looks like you have some competition." The words were laced with a subtle undertone, a veiled reference to the fact that Thadeus was also vying for Sorelle's affections.
Thadeus's brows furrowed in confusion, his gaze drifting to Valen, who was still storming away, his anger and frustration evident in every step.
The question that followed was laced with a hint of puzzlement: "Then why did he attack you and not me? I thought you liked Ace?"
Zane's expression turned uncomfortable, his eyes darting away as he struggled to contain the truth. It was clear to everyone, it seemed, that his heart belonged to Ace, and the knowledge was a weight that pressed upon him like a physical force.
But Zane's response was swift and decisive, a denial that was both firm and emphatic: "I have no romantic interest in Sorelle. Valen is just an idiot."
The words were quick, but they served their purpose, deflecting attention from the true nature of his feelings for Ace. Thadeus, however, merely laughed, his eyes glinting with amusement as he surveyed Valen's retreating back. "He's not competition," he said, his voice low and confident. "He's just an obstacle."
Zane's eyebrow shot up in surprise, his gaze locked onto Thadeus with a newfound respect. This was a side of Thadeus he had never seen before - a glimpse of a dominating presence that lurked just beneath the surface of his usually affable nature. The look in Thadeus' green eyes was a little unnerving, but it was also strangely intriguing, and a testament to the hidden depths of Thadeus. For the first time, Zane saw Thadeus not just as a kind and gentle soul, but as a force to be reckoned with, a secret badass waiting to be unleashed. The revelation was both captivating and intimidating, a reminder that even the most seemingly innocuous individuals could harbor hidden strengths and unexpected depths.
“So, 24 hours in The Dread. You’ll likely have many targets on your back there with all of the Sidhe you’ve had to escort there. Are you going to stay with Lennon?” Thadeus asked.
As Thadeus's words pierced the air, Zane's thoughts were yanked back to the present, his mind now wandereing to the precarious situation that lay ahead. The mention of The Dread and the thought of being a target for the very Sidhe he had been tasked with escorting there was a daunting prospect. Thadeus's question hung in the air, awaiting Zane's response, and he couldn't help but snarl at the idea of seeking refuge with Lennon.
Zane's response was laced with a hint of reluctance, a grudging acceptance of the circumstances that had led him to this point. "I guess so," he said, the words dripping with resignation. "That's the only viable option at this point."
Thadeus nodded, his expression a mask of calm, but Zane knew the other Sidhe was aware of the tension that simmered between him and Lennon. It was a well-known fact that Zane and Lennon didn't exactly see eye to eye, their differences in opinion often boiling over into heated arguments. But Zane knew that beneath their animosity, there was a begrudging respect, a shared concern for Ace's safety that transcended their petty squabbles. As Zane pondered the logistics of his plan, he couldn't help but think of Ace, her bright smile and infuriatingly hot attitude a beacon of hope in the darkness. He knew that Lennon would let him stay at his cottage, not out of any great respect for him, but because it would ultimately benefit Ace. Zane's presence ensured her safety, and that was all that mattered. The thought was a bitter pill to swallow, but he knew it was a necessary one. He would endure Lennon's barbs and sarcastic remarks, all in the name of keeping Ace safe.
"I'll head out once Ace gets back," Zane said finally, his voice a low rumble. "Don't want to crowd Lennon's tiny little cottage."
The snarky tone was not lost on Thadeus, who caught the edge of Zane's words and raised an eyebrow. The air was thick with the weight of unspoken tension, the knowledge that Zane and Lennon's dislike for each other was a palpable force, one that would have to be navigated in the days to come.