Runebinder (The Runebinder Chronicles #1)

Tomás practically purred.

“Oh, but you are. You are the greatest prize of all. But I am okay sharing you. For now.” Tomás leaned back and looked him in the eyes. All taunting was gone, replaced with cold calculation. “There are two types of men in this world, Tenn. Those who will use you openly, and those who will use you under false pretenses. But do not for one second think that you are not being used.” He ran his fingers through Tenn’s hair. “You may think you are safe here, you may think you have found someone who sees you for who you are, but he was sent to collect you. He will always see you as an object. A duty.”

It shouldn’t have worked, but it still made Tenn’s heart sink. Mainly because he had already been thinking the same thing. Even if Jarrett was a link to his past, he had still been sent after Tenn for another, hidden purpose.

“And you see me differently?” Tenn asked.

“Of course not,” Tomás replied. “But you will have a lot more fun under my care, that I can promise you.” He leaned in and whispered in Tenn’s ear, sending heat and desire flooding through his veins. “He is using you, my pet. As am I. But at least, with me, you will always know where you stand...or kneel. And I will ensure you relish it.”

Tenn didn’t even realize Tomás’s hand was inside his jeans until the man’s hand clenched, and ecstasy and flame burned through him. But the moment the wave hit, it was over, and Tomás stood by the wall, hands behind his back and a studious look on his face.

“That is but a taste of what I could give you. An eternity of pleasure. Of power. Or you could spend it here. With them. Miserable and manipulated.”

Tenn managed to grab on to his senses.

“What about Leanna?”

Tomás just smiled.

“Leanna won’t be in the picture forever. Not with you around.” His face shifted, once more becoming grave. “Do not let your petty feelings control you. Ask the boy why he sought you, when he returns. Ask him, before you claim that I’m the monster.”

There was a flicker of power, the briefest twist of Air in his throat, and then Tomás was gone.

Tenn collapsed back on the bed, panting, the ceiling spinning slowly as his body burned and shivered in turn.

Despite Tomás’s earlier threats, despite knowing the Howl would carry through on killing everyone he told, Tenn knew he should run from the room. He should tell the compound that a Kin was here. That he wasn’t safe. Or he should simply run from the room and never look back. Death followed him, and Death had many faces.

As his breathing slowed and his thoughts became his again, he did none of those things.

Not because he was scared of Tomás’s wrath, but because, around Tomás, he felt alive in ways he never had before.

He didn’t want to push that away. Not just yet.





CHAPTER EIGHT

TENN SAT IN the branches of a willow tree; its long limbs dipped into the lake stretched out below. Across the water, glinting like stars scattered across the sky, warm windows shone with the promise of home. He brought his knees closer to his chest and stared out. He’d come here, to the Academy, to learn about magic. He hadn’t known at the time that the biggest lesson he’d learn was loss and the heavy absence of home.

The lake was where he’d spent most days over the last month or so training. Ever since he’d been attuned to Water, he’d come out here with a small handful of other classmates to practice connecting to the waves, all from the warmth of their small lakeside pagoda. The hours were long and boring—staring at the water, trying to feel it in his veins, trying to stretch and manipulate it like a limb. But it wasn’t the practice that was getting to him—it was the Sphere itself. Water seemed to have a life of its own. He’d been to the guidance counselor weekly since the attuning, thinking he’d developed schizophrenia or depression or bipolar disorder. He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t stop falling prey to visions of his early childhood: all the family fights he hadn’t consciously remembered, all the time sitting alone in his room and wishing elementary school would grant him at least one friend. All the tears he’d shed or hidden. The counselor assured him it was normal. That was just what Water brought up for people.

That might have been nice to know beforehand, he’d thought at the time, but he knew it wouldn’t have changed anything. They didn’t have a choice in which Sphere they were attuned to. After the testing period, they were all paired up to their optimal match and given the tattoo that connected them to the magic. Your magical mark, his professor had said.

The Mark of the Beast, the protest signs along the road warned.

Tenn pushed those images away. The protesters scared him more than the power, even if Water did seem to set everything on edge. But the fact that the overly emotional Sphere had been considered his best fit made him question his own stability...and that wasn’t something he wanted to be worrying about.

At least it might have explained all the emotions that had bubbled up around that boy in his history class. Kevin. It wasn’t the first guy he’d crushed on, but it was the first time he’d let himself realize it. The first time he let himself imagine it going somewhere. Kevin just had this presence, this calmness, to him. And when he smiled...ugh. Tenn hated just how much he loved it when Kevin smiled.

It didn’t help that the guy was crazy smart and cute, in all the ways Tenn felt he was not.

“So this is what you dream, Tenn?”

Tenn jerked around, nearly falling out of the tree.

A man stood on the shore a few yards away. He was unfamiliar—pin-striped black suit, slicked gray hair. The man didn’t belong here. But then again, neither did he. He glanced down at his hands. They were worn—calloused and scarred, hands used to battle and bloodshed. And he wasn’t in school uniform; he wore the ragged blacks of a Hunter.

“What are you doing here?” Tenn asked.

He half expected the dream to fade, now that he was aware he was, in fact, dreaming, but it didn’t. Somehow, that was worse.

He tried opening to the Spheres, and nothing happened. It was as if he’d never been attuned. He couldn’t even feel them.

He was facing the man who’d killed his comrades, and he could do nothing about it.

“I’m just observing,” Matthias answered. He took a step closer. His feet didn’t leave an impression in the sand. “After all, someone whom Leanna so actively seeks must surely be an interesting specimen.” He chuckled to himself. “I must say, I am so far unimpressed. All you seem to be good at is running away and letting others die in your place.”

It was a blow to Tenn’s gut. The tree around him seemed to shudder from the pain, from the sudden wind that howled through the branches, screaming like Tenn’s fallen comrades.

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