The Mask and The Flame | CH. 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The Crystal pulsed against Cael’s chest. His feet moved without thinking, taking a turn he’d never taken before. The corridors tightened, the air heating in stages. Thankfully, he had worn more appropriate clothing this time. Shorts that were a little too short and tight, a loose-fitting navy top with the sleeves ripped off and lined with silver sparkle; all purchased and forced into his closet by Rayan, of course. Though he admitted it did feel comfortable in the heat, if not a little too attention-grabbing.

Finally, he reached the tunnel where flame spheres lit the way. Each flickered faintly as he passed, casting shifting shadows over the carvings gouged into the Moon’s rock.

The air grew ever warmer, heat carrying a faint undertone of smoke and something green … dried herbs burning somewhere unseen.

At the bottom, the space opened into a hollow chamber.

And there —

Ashfall stood in the center, outlined in a low, molten glow. Loose black trousers sat low on his hips, bare feet on the ground in a casual recklessness. Of course … he was shirtless, skin carrying the soft sheen of sweat and fire, muscles shifting as he turned his head toward Cael.

He’d never looked more unguarded.

“Ashfall …” Cael’s voice came out low, uncertain.

“Cael …” he nodded.

The chamber held still. Even the flame-spheres seemed to pause their flicker.

He reached to the low stone ledge at the side of the room, picking up a slim, dark-rolled emberleaf joint already half-smoked. “I imagine you could use this.”

Cael’s lips twitched despite the knot in his stomach. “You’re not wrong.”

Ashfall stepped close enough to offer it between two fingers. The warm spice of the dried herbs already hung in the air.

They smoked in silence at first, sitting on the warm stone lip of the pool. Cael’s first inhale scratched the back of his throat before smoothing into something deep and calming. The light from the spheres blurred at the edges, deepening in color. The heat in the room no longer felt oppressive; it sank into his skin and pooled in his bones.

Leaning back on his palms, Ashfall’s gaze tilted toward the ceiling. “I didn’t think you were Valen because you were so good at lying, you know,” he said at last. “I believed you were Valen because it was easier to believe the name you gave me. Despite all of the … obvious red flags.”

“Well, thanks for the critique.” Cael almost laughed, but just turned the joint between his fingers, the glow at its tip calming as he exhaled a large puff. “I didn’t want to lie to you. But I didn’t think I—didn’t think I had a choice.”

“You always have a choice,” Ashfall said, meeting his gaze.

“I know that now … and I’ve already made mine.”