Delta [Epsilon #2]

Chapter Fourteen

Kyra

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I marched through the grounds with my head held high. The message had been a clear -- '12pm, meet me outside cabin. Training.' The letter had been slipped under my door sometime during the night. If the blunt wording wasn't giveaway enough, then the handwriting was. The jagged lines and rough curves were almost as crude as him, and it made me wonder if he'd ever written by hand at all. 

As the log cabin jutted into view, I closed my eyes, trying to distract myself. I tried to focus on the coarse grass cutting into my feet, or the chirp of insects in the nearby forest. The sun's touch was warm, chasing away the chill of the morning. Nothing about this place was familiar, and part of me didn't see it as a comfort anymore. It was just a sore reminder that I really, deep down, had no where to call home.

I opened my eyes again. I only managed to catch a glimpse of that snow-white hair before his eyes darted to mine, forcing me to lock his gaze. I could see the challenge written in them, even all those yards away. I could have sworn a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Of course he would be looking forward to this. I mean, he virtually had a free hour to berate me to his heart's content, to project all his sad little miseries on me. I wasn't keen, but there was nothing I could do, was there? Zion and Alia depending on me, and unless I could learn from the Delta, I would never be able to save them. I couldn't allow my pride to let them down again. 

Pain forked through me at the thought of their names, and I shut it out, willing the numbness to consume me again. I couldn't think about that now. I had asked Luna Darla the question with my eyes this morning, if their scouting parties had reported anything, to which she'd mouthed, 'they're not back.' As much as I hated it, I would have to wait. 

As I stared down the Delta, I prayed for a peaceful lesson. 

But 'peace' had always been a foreign concept to the Delta. Before I was even within ten feet of him, he spoke. "Now, Epsilon, I need you to know that today's session is only happening because there's been reports of the Southerners scouting the borders."

My heart plummeted. What?

"Though I would highly prefer a day without your irksome bickering,"-- he gave me a pointed look -- "my territory is at risk, and you're still weak. So, with that being said, let's get started."

I stood there, reeling from this new information. Southern scouts? So soon? Was Azriel among them? I looked towards the Delta but, upon seeing his stony face, swallowed my questions. There would be no point asking him, I knew.  

Resigned, I closed my eyes, though I couldn't quite shake the unease that had settled upon me. 

"Summon your Emotional Magic. Don't turn."

"I know," I ground back. I could almost feel him bristle. I sighed. Here we go again. 

Thankfully, the Delta remained silent, so I delved deeper into myself. Soon, everything around me faded away; the chirping of birds, the grass at my feet, the intimidating male standing before me. Darkness engulfed me -- the quiet, still darkness, and within it I felt the energy pulsing, the energy that was always there. Alive. Furious. Vengeful. I called it forth. 

In an instant, the energy burned along every inch of sinew and bone, forcing a sharp gasp from my throat. My eyes flung open, the world a purple tint through my jutting vision. In an instant, my body was turning, transforming--

Then it stopped. It was a struggle to turn my head and stare at his hand, resting steadily on my shoulder. I forced my eyes to his, and anger filled me. Part of me hated how he could just nullify my magic as he willed. He looked frustrated, too, but not because of that.