Hunted: Alba's Story (Destined Book 5)

by Kaylin Lee

  “Mm-hmm.” Ella seemed to be finding it very difficult to hold back a smile.

  I glanced at Erik, who was watching Chloe intently with hooded eyes. “Scared, Chloe?” His low tone was shiver-worthy. “Want to play it safe?”

  “Never.” She grabbed the locket with her whole fist. “Ouch!” She let it fall to the table and began blowing on her palm. “Ice! Do we have ice, Professor?”

  “Be right there, my dear!” The professor sounded undeniably entertained.

  “Weslan, I think that thing could use some tweaking.” Chloe cleared her throat. “No need for such an … ah … intense signal.” Her tone was neutral and academic, but her cheeks glowed bright red, and she wouldn’t look at Erik, who had a satisfied smirk on his lips.

  “Of course, Chloe.” Weslan coughed, but it sounded more like a laugh. “We’ll get right to that.”

  Professor Kristof pressed an ice cube into Chloe’s hand, and as she squeezed her fist around it, she met Erik’s eyes. Her cheeks blazed, and though their gazes locked, she didn’t address him. “I’m going to need a curse, Professor.”

  “Thought you might.” The professor held a glass vial out for her inspection. “Right here.”

  Erik’s eyes widened. He leaned away from Professor Kristof and tugged on Chloe’s arm. “Enough. Let’s go get dinner. You shouldn’t just wave those things around, Professor.”

  “Oh, it’s only an immobilization curse. Quite mild.” Professor Kirstof wiggled the vial. “Chloe and Weslan made it last week for our experiments.”

  Erik gritted his teeth. “Just when I thought she was dangerous enough …”

  “It’s fine.” Chloe’s lips twitched as she jerked her chin at me. “Alba here has fourteen obcillo crystals sewn into her dress. She’ll rescue me if you can’t.”

  “If I can’t— Wait, what are you—”

  Without warning, Chloe opened the vial and tossed the teaspoon of liquid onto her dress. Silver sparkles rushed over her body. She froze, her lips set in a tiny smile and her eyes locked on Erik.

  “Just kiss her.” Weslan grinned. “We’re trying to figure out if true love’s kiss can break a curse. You know, for our … ah … research.”

  “Happy to serve the cause,” Erik said under his breath. He took one quick step forward, clasped Chloe’s face in his hands, and pressed his lips against hers with such fervor, I was tempted to fan myself.

  Chloe melted into his kiss like his love had broken down more than just the immobilization curse. “Guess it’s not nonsense after all,” she mumbled when he released her.

  “No.” His heavy-lidded gaze didn’t leave her. “Goodbye, everyone. Chloe’s done with work for the day, and we have dinner plans.” When he led her out of the room, she went without a protest.

  Ella shut the door behind them then pressed her back against it, her hands on her cheeks. “Oh, wow. Wow! Didn’t see that coming, but wow.”

  Weslan reached for her hand. “Magic. It solves everything.”

  “You didn’t see it coming?” Professor Kristof looked up from polishing his glasses and slid them onto his nose. “I thought it worked out quite well. Excellent timing. Erik’s planning on giving her the traditional words of promise tonight.”

  Ella and Weslan burst into laughter. I feigned a weak laugh of my own. Ella shooed me back to the sofa to rest before returning to her work.

  By the time Ella and Weslan were ready to leave for the evening, my wet boots had finished drying by the office’s suffio hearth and the envy in my chest had become an angry, hungry creature with a life of its own.

  Bringing a pale-skinned, chubby mage into my home is the last straw.

  You’d better go. Thanks for coming.

  I couldn’t look at Ella. If I did, I’d start crying again, and she’d push me to talk about the humiliating end with Alaric. I couldn’t bring myself to do that.

  I put on my boots, but I didn’t want to go home. Bri would still be training at the Sentinels’ fancy new compound, and Mom would be working late at the Mage Academy, tutoring her more advanced students.

  And Dad was off in the Badlands again.

  I felt my pulse pick up, as it had that morning. The familiar, downward spiral of worry took hold of me, and it was all I could do to shove my arms in the sleeves of my jacket and pretend like nothing was wrong.

  What if Dad came across a buried curse, like the Sentinels had discovered in the Badlands so many times during the first year of missions?

  Worse, what if he stumbled on the Masters themselves?

  What if he never came home?

  Alaric had dropped me like a hot suffio ember at the first sign of his mother’s disapproval. He’d probably never truly cared for me in the first place. And if I were honest, my pride hurt far worse than my heart. The relationship Alaric and I had shared for the past few months would never have passed the locket’s test for true love.

  I stared blankly at the floorboards in front of me as I tucked my hair back and pulled my hood over my head.

  A pale-skinned, chubby mage …

  I’d dreamed of making a Procus lord fall in love with me since I was a child, and I’d failed spectacularly today.

  Not everyone has a true love at their beck and call, Weslan had said.

  Ella had Weslan. Bri had the Sentinels. Mom and Dad had each other and their work. Even ice-hearted Chloe had Erik. But me? I was utterly alone.

  I couldn’t live this way.

  That was why, as I followed Ella and Weslan out of the research office, I swiped the silver locket from the worktable and slid it into my pocket.

  Chapter 4

  The next morning, the sky was cornflower blue, and the spring wind blew puffy, happy clouds across the horizon.

  I woke without a message from Alaric and cheered myself by dressing for the day in a bright, honey-colored dress. The soft fabric hugged my curves and spun out like a bell around my legs, rippling in flattering, mage-craft twists as I walked to the full-length mirror by my bedroom door.

  The vivid dress flattered my pale skin and red lips, though it pained me to admit it. Skin like the dawn sun glinting off snow. Despite my best efforts to gain a tan—magical or otherwise—I looked like my namesake. Alba’s Peak was a mountain pass at the western edge of the continent, famous for the stunning, snowy vistas it offered to explorers intrepid enough to brave its height.

  Why had my mother named me after my snow-white skin—my greatest physical deficiency, the most obvious sign of my unfashionable Kireth heritage? I blamed her delirious, post-birth state, though she’d never agreed that my name was a mistake.

  I pursed my lips and adjusted the fit of my dress. Why did I dwell on my skin every time I looked in the mirror? I should focus on my advantages, not my flaws. Especially in light of today’s mission.

  My cheeks were rosy, my eyes dark-green and alluring. Somehow, on nights when I didn’t get enough sleep, my heavy-lidded eyes stood out even more dramatically, making me look seductive instead of exhausted. I considered applying a mage-craft tonic to lengthen my eyelashes, but today’s plan negated that idea. Best to appear fully myself, right? I wouldn’t want my true love to feel misled about the length of my real eyelashes.

  I eyed my bare arms beneath the dress’s cap sleeves. The temperature was warmer today, but it was still too cool for bare arms. I pulled a cream-colored shawl over my shoulders, shivering as the fringe brushed my skin.

  Fringe. It was now or never.

  I yanked a piece of the fringe from the shawl, grabbed the locket from the pocket of yesterday’s blue dress, and shoved the threads inside.

  When I settled the locket around my neck, I felt silly. There was nothing fine about the simple necklace, and it looked out of place with my pretty, mage-craft dress. I tucked it inside the neckline and hoped no one would notice it.

  ~

  As I went downstairs, my footsteps echoed in the empty villa. Mom had already left for the Mage Academy, and Bri must have gone to the training cen
ter early. Her room had been quiet all morning. The wind whispered through the kitchen window. I ignored the lonely room, slipped on my boots by the door, and let myself outside.

  After the day I’d had yesterday, I needed three things as soon as possible. First, a strong cup of coffee. Next, my favorite frostberry cream swirl pastry, which just so happened to be sold at an excellent coffee shop. Once those necessities were taken care of, I’d tackle my third need—to find as many flirtation-ready men as possible. My true love wasn’t going to find himself.

  The Mage Market was the one place I’d be able to find all three things.

  Over the past five years, the Mage Market had spread from a single alley at the border between the Mage Division and the Merchant Quarter, to include several blocks of multistory shops and converted villas in both sectors of the city.

  The Mage Market was just a fifteen-minute walk away from our villa, which was good, because the moment I stepped outside, I realized it was still stocking weather. I should have brought something much warmer than my shawl, which billowed in the wind.

  When I passed under the bright, floral archway at the entrance to the Mage Market, a shower of gold sparkles poured down from the glowing lights nestled among the pink and purple flowers, welcoming me to the market. The warm sparkles heated my chilled skin, resting on my hair, neck, and forearms arms before evaporating.

  The magical scents and sights of the Mage Market soothed my nerves immediately. Yes. This was exactly what I needed.

  “Hot spiceberry cider, miss?” A tall, blond young man in the black-and-white Mage Market uniform offered me a shallow bow then held out a tray of small cups. His lips tilted up in an appreciative smile as he subtly looked me over. “Welcome to the Mage Market. We’re honored to have such beauty gracing our humble streets.”

  Hmm … he would do nicely. I smiled back and met his eyes for a moment then glanced at the tray as though shy. “Thank you, sir.” I felt his gaze on me as I chose a cup and sipped it, taking time to press my lips to the rim.

  The locket warmed, sending a thrill through me. I met his eyes again, hoping I was sending just the right message of interest and allure.

  He opened his mouth to speak more, but a trio of matronly commoners jostled past me to get their own cider cups. The moment was lost.

  The heat from the locket faded as he bowed to each of the three ladies.

  I’d been forgotten. I stepped back, the full cider cup wobbling in my hand.

  Forgotten. And so quickly? I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt invisible. My cheeks had finally lost their babyish roundness at age sixteen, revealing a perfect set of cheekbones. I’d lost the roundness around my middle, too, and gained a very nice breadth to my hips and chest. My skin was unblemished, my eyes wide and luminous.

  Men had been calling me the most beautiful girl in Asylia for two years. I’d never had any cause to doubt their sincerity until now.

  How many times had the attention simply been a casual, passing observation, forgotten a moment later?

  I shook my head and rushed away from the man with the tray. I needed coffee before I could face such thoughts.

  The Mage Market was crowded, as usual. Everyone in Asylia shopped here, even though it was no longer the only place to get mage-craft goods. There was something special about buying them at the Mage Market, where it had all begun. These were the very streets where mage-craft innovations had once debuted to the city’s commoners and Procus elite after the mages were freed from mandatory government bondage, shocking and delighting the city with new, magical innovations every day.

  It held a special place in our family, too, for a different reason—the Mage Market would never have existed without Ella.

  Five years earlier, my stepsister Ella had been on the verge of starting her apprenticeship as a government bureaucrat when a bomb destroyed her future. She’d fallen in love with a disgraced appearance mage named Weslan and put her brilliant mind to a new use—freeing mages from a terrible system of slavery.

  Bri and I were mages, having inherited mage powers from our mother’s line. If Ella hadn’t convinced Prince Estevan that freeing mages would be better for the city, my twin sister and I would be slaves today instead of living as regular citizens.

  It wasn’t just the sparkly decorations and delicious sweets that I loved. The whole Mage Market smelled, tasted, and felt like pure freedom to me.

  I passed a pair of elaborately-coiffed, elderly Procus ladies, their mage-craft carry-stones gliding obediently behind them, piled high with wrapped packages.

  Farther down the street, a group of young men lounged near a mage-craft fountain that released pearly bubbles into the air. They looked like well-off commoners, all about my age and quite handsome. Perhaps their schooling had ended at the same time as mine this year, and they were making use of their newfound free time.

  I felt their appreciative attention on me as I walked past, but I kept my gaze demurely on the cobblestone ground. The locket warmed, making my pulse speed up. A moment later, it faded, warmed, and faded again. The pattern repeated as I walked by as if each man had noticed me and dismissed me, one at a time.

  With every step, the cup of cider grew heavier in my hand.

  I rushed around the next corner, dropped the nearly-full cider cup in a trash can, and rubbed the tense knots in the back of my neck. This was going to be a two-pastry morning, that was for sure.

  Maybe even three.

  ~

  Curious Confections was one of the first mage-craft coffee shops in the city. The converted villa had five cozy stories, each packed with an array of large, cushiony chairs and rickety, wooden tables. The delicious scents of coffee, sugar, and winterdrop essence permeated the air on every level.

  I’d done most of my after-school studying at Curious Confections during my years at the Mage Academy. Well, perhaps studying wasn’t quite the right word. At first, thanks to Mom’s zeal for over-preparation, Bri and I had been so far ahead of our classmates, my studying had mainly consisted of daydreaming.

  But today, thanks to my foolish, impulsive locket theft, the coffee shop was losing its luster. The middle-aged proprietor had made the locket heat when he rang up my purchase, and now my skin was crawling. It occurred to me that perhaps I had no business knowing what strangers felt about me.

  When I had my coffee mug in one hand and a parchment bag with three pastries in the other, I started up the stairs, determined not to look back at him.

  “Darling Alba!” A pretty, dark-haired Procus lady smiled brightly as she descended from the next level. Her gown was a pale, sparkly blue, and a collection of fine dresses adorned the three ladies who followed on her heels. “I’m so glad we ran into you! I was just thinking of winging you this morning, but I didn’t want to bother you.”

  “Hello, Lady Caterina!” I met her on the stairs and returned her smile. A small blemish stood out on her chin. No wonder she’d hoped to see me. “You could never be a bother, my lady. I’m always glad to hear from you.”

  I took her proffered hand and sent a subtle burst of magic into her skin, making her blemish disappeared instantly.

  Lady Caterina smiled gratefully and mouthed, Thank you.

  “I heard something happened with you and Alaric? He ended things?” Behind her, Lady Alexis pouted sympathetically. “Sweet Alba, that must be simply awful!”

  “Oh, he was only a fourth son!” Lady Samantha winked at me from the next step up. “Look at those cheekbones. She can do better. In fact, I heard Lord Roderic asking about you just the other day. You’ll have to come to Adrian’s club with us again soon. Wear the right dress to the next open dance, and you’ll snag a third or even second son before midnight.”

  I listened without speaking, my thoughts too chaotic to produce a friendly response.

  Lady Caterina leaned closer, lowering her voice as the other ladies began gossiping about their last trip to Adrian’s. “You know, my appearance mage swears one of her friends has m
ade a new skin-darkening serum. One that actually works. I can get a sample if you want to try it.”

  “Oh, my lady, I’m not doing that again. The last one turned me green!”

  She giggled. “You have to admit that was funny.”

  “Funny!” I widened my eyes. “I had to pretend to be sick for a week. Do you know how hard it is for a healer mage to fake a week-long illness?”

  Now she laughed outright. “I adore you, Alba Mattas!” The other ladies passed her on the stairs, blowing me kisses. Lady Caterina patted her blemish-free chin and smoothed her hair. “I’d better follow them. Lady Samantha gets so impatient when she has to wait.” She leaned in and kissed my cheek. “You’ll be one of us yet, don’t you worry, my dear.” She pulled back, winked, and left me on the stairs.

  I don’t want to be one of you! I continued alone to the quiet fourth floor, my steps so jerky with frustration I nearly spilled coffee on my dress in the process. I just … want to beat you at your own games?

  I shook my head, disgusted by the turn of my thoughts. Lady Caterina had always been sweet to me. She was never snobbish. She seemed to genuinely want me to be happy. Still, I couldn’t shake the unpleasant feel of her last words to me. You’ll be one of us yet. Why should I want to be one of them? What exactly was wrong with being Alba Mattas?

  Pale-skinned, chubby mage …

  I clenched my fist so tightly my nails dug into my palms. Lady Althea and Alaric were the ones who’d hurt me. So why was I so angry at the people who least deserved it—my father, my mother, and sweet Lady Caterina?

  And why was I so hungry for a life that wasn’t mine?

  My face was beautiful. Too bad it felt like my heart was the ugliest in the city.

  I settled back into my favorite chair on the fourth floor, the spot overlooking the street, and inhaled my first pastry between sips of coffee.

  When I was done, I brushed the collection of sugar crystals and flaky pastry bits from my chest. My hand brushed the locket and the cool metal further soured my stomach. “You’re a fool, Alba Mattas,” I muttered to myself. I opened the locket and let the fringe from my shawl fall onto my lap, then I clicked it shut.