VISION ✔️ || The Keepers of Astraela #1

24.3 || Of Candles and Tea Time

EMRYS

"WHAT ARE YOU staring at?"

Emrys blinked long and hard. The moment he opened his eyes again, he was met with Eva's curious stare—no longer empty, black voids cutting through to his soul.

"What were you thinking?" he croaked, attempting to speak through his suddenly bone-dry throat.

"I was defending you. He was dragging your name through the—"

"I don't care what he was doing." Emrys' heart thundered against his ribcage. "Talking like that will get us killed."

Laughter erupted from the living room. The boisterous, masculine tone bounced off the walls, but while it was relieving that Faeran hadn't summoned armed forces to apprehend them, Emrys knew they were far from being in the clear.

"I may be your friend," said Emrys, "but I have a bounty on my head and so does anyone connected to me. You slip up like that with the wrong person and we're all dead."

"He's connected to the Guild, isn't he?"

It was all Emrys could do to not shrink away from her unrelenting stare, eyes narrowed with scrutiny so sharp it sliced his heart to pieces. In all their time together, she had never been so irate, let alone in a realm of deadly magic.

"Faeran didn't want his Vision used for spy work. While he agrees with the Guild on some points, he believes they're ending too many innocent lives."

Eva folded her arms. "He's still on their side."

"Faeran wants the Darkness gone as much as they do, but he doesn't believe in slaughtering the masses unless they're guilty of aiding the Corruption."

"Like Thana?"

Emrys brought his hands up to massage his temples. Their situation did no favors for his lingering headache. "Let's get through this without making another scene. I don't care whose side he's on. If he can figure out where your visions are coming from and we can keep you safe, that's all that matters."

Silent, stone-cold anger radiated from her flat expression. Much to Emrys' relief, she dropped the subject without another word and brushed past him toward the living room. Following close behind, he kept a careful eye on her purposeful gait.

A welcome sight greeted them at the table: lavender smoke, curling into the air from the herbal roll between Faeran's teeth. The heavenly scent of demula brought much-needed comfort after a day from Hell.

Emrys reached for one without hesitation. A small, wooden box rested in the center of the table, filled to the brim with fresh smokes. As he pulled one from the container, Faeran snapped his fingers. Sparks crackled from his fingertips, flitting delicately onto the end of Emrys' cigarette. A small puff of light illuminated the end, and once it diminished, smoke wafted from the end of his blunt.

"You're a man of fine taste, Jensen," Faeran mused. "Not only in herbs, but in feisty maidens."

The man winked, nodding conspicuously in Eva's direction.

Mystia tried to hide her grin behind her teacup, but the mischievous raise of her brows gave away every intention. Emrys hastened his reach for another blueberry tart.

"It's a kinky thing," she said in a blatantly loud whisper.

A loud huff from Eva made Emrys jump, flicking ashes from the end of his roll and onto his pastry. She folded her arms on the table. With lips pursed and posture rigid, she hardly looked like the same woman. If it hadn't been for the auburn hair falling to the small of her back rather than a curtain of jet black, the resemblance would have been uncanny.