Pulling her cloak over her head, she’d fled to the palace, hoping a meal would ease the hollow gnawing in her breast. Thankfully the long communal tables where the Seraphian sentinels and the rest of the Chosen ate were near empty. With her unusual rose-gold hair hidden, and the iridescent fleshrunes that mapped her skin covered beneath layers of clothing, the one table of soldiers hardly spared her a second glance.
She ate in silence. Even if the soggy, watered down oats were quite possibly the foulest thing she’d ever tasted, the food helped.
When was the last time she’d eaten? Or had a full night’s sleep for that matter?
It was easy to forget she was mortal when the world seemed to be crashing down around her daily.
Her silver spoon scraped the bottom of her bowl. A rumble in her belly demanded more, but the need to wash the sweat and gore from the morning won out.
The sulfurous tang of the communal baths wafted through the corridors as she neared the huge chambers. The large rectangular pools were fed from the hot springs that traversed the island, the steaming water a crisp, inviting teal.
Her eyebrows gathered as she took in the amount of soldiers in the first pool, their laughter reverberating through the high-ceilinged chamber.
The baths were busy today.
No surprise. After each grueling attack, the Seraphians and Chosen needed time to unwind. The bathhouses were nothing like the clear, winding pools of the Sun Court. Rivers deep inside the island’s core fed the irregularly shaped pools. The dark teal waters were revered for their healing properties, but it was the subtle shimmer of magick sparking across its steaming surface that enticed Haven.
Her boots splashed through the puddles pooled on the stone floor as she crossed to the second bath, where the Solis and members of the Order of Soltari congregated.
Silence overtook the light din of voices as she passed, trying not to make eye contact. The reverence in their faces always left her feeling unsettled.
Unworthy.
The final bathhouse was the smallest, its winding pool set deep into the glassy-smooth black stone that made up most of the island. Beastly creatures were carved into the face of the towering columns supporting the roof. Beyond those columns was a breathtaking view. The Ravenite Mountains a jagged cutout of obsidian and cream on one side; the ferocious Obsidian Sea on the other.
“Haven!” a familiar voice called, dragging her from the fog of battle and death.
As Haven took in Bellamy’s features, his easy smile and vibrant topaz eyes, a weight lifted from her tight shoulders. Surai and Ember were with him, deeply engaged in a conversation Haven couldn’t hear. The water’s magick glistened off their skin and seemed to irradiate the intricate web of runemarks covering their muscled flesh.
Bell splashed at her as she approached. He was leaned against the side of the pool, basking in a rare beam of sunshine streaming through a skylight. The steam had loosened his curls so that his hair fell tousled and wild to one side.
A bruise was already darkening his high cheekbone, and more mapped his upper chest and back, along with a nasty cut on his shoulder.
The wound had already closed under the healing water’s touch, the angry red line fading into his taupe skin. It was said the magickal properties of the hot springs came from deep within the earth, leeching from the same source that created the crystals.
“I hope the other guy looks worse,” she remarked as she stripped off her boots, pants, and finally her tunic. Surai looked up from her conversation, her lips tilting at the corners as she saw Haven’s reluctance to shed her underclothes.
Everyone else was fully naked, even Bell. But Haven had yet to acclimate to the Seraphian custom of bathing together daily.
Only the royal Seraphians had their own bathing chambers, smaller versions of this set high atop the palace. Stolas had offered Haven his . . . but the others already looked at her differently.
Special privileges would only widen that chasm she felt slowly yawning between them.
Ember’s tawny cheeks were mottled and red from the heat, and they lifted beneath her grin as she took in Haven’s underclothes. “Why hide the body the Goddess gave you?”
Ever protective, Surai cut her eyes at Ember. “Mortals teach their women to be ashamed of their bodies.”
Ember didn’t appear surprised at the explanation, but she didn’t remark further on it.