by Eva Muñoz
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Truth
A MONTH after, I was called to a professor’s office really early. I entered without knocking. I had no caffeine in my system to blunt my grumpy mood. The night before had been a nightmare of epic proportions. No matter how hard I’d tried, I couldn’t sleep. My brain wouldn’t turn off, so I’d started reading one of my textbooks, thinking the academic language would lull me to sleep. The experiment managed to make me more restless.
My skin crawled. My fingers twitched. And my feet itched in a way that made me want to keep moving, so I wandered the dorms for hours. I had to dodge the dorm master, a few maintenance staff, and three guards playing poker. Getting tired of walking aimlessly, I shuffled back to the room, got into bed, tossed and turned, and by the time I got a wink of sleep, my alarm clock blared and I had to get dressed for school.
On the other end of the receiving area, a brunette sat behind a desk, reading a book. A classmate of mine, but for the life of me, I couldn’t recall her name. I mentally kicked myself for not grabbing coffee on the way over.
Lips pressed together, I dragged my feet over to her. “I’m here to—”
“Good morning, Camron!” She glanced up from her book as if a VIP had walked in.
I searched for an appropriate response. “Right. Uh, sure….”
“Brittney, silly. We have European History together.”
“Right, Brittney.”
“Aren’t you going to the assembly?”
I blinked at Brittney, forgetting my appointment. “What?”
She stared at me. “The assembly? A new student’s being introduced today. You should see how cute he is. I’d never seen black hair like that—”
Her voice faded into the background as I ran out of the office. I turned in a quick circle to get my bearings, then headed in the direction of the multipurpose hall. I dashed forward at full tilt through empty corridors.
A new student. A new student on Assembly Day. Cute and with black hair. My heart pounded in my chest. Hope coursed through my veins faster than any caffeine boost ever could. I needed to know. I needed to make sure.
I reached the closed double doors of the multipurpose hall and stopped. My lungs staged a protest. I bent over, and with every breath, tried not to heave. Adrenaline plus desperation.
Kiev’s muffled voice ushered me onward. Trembling hand and all, I reached for the knob and lurched my way inside. A rush of air greeted my damp face. Kiev stood on stage behind a podium with the Braylin crest on it.
“As you all know,” he said, “Braylin Academy has a proud history of gathering the best and the brightest from around the world. A school that stands for invention, reinvention, and innovation. Scientia est lux lucis.”
“Knowledge is enlightenment,” the students said in unison.
I craned my neck and searched. My horribly shaking knees kept me standing by the door, unable to move anymore. The seated students paid close attention to Kiev’s speech. Professors sat along the front row. I couldn’t find the new student. He shouldn’t be hard to spot. Impatience clamored in my throat like an angry mob storming the gates. I needed to move forward, to do something, but my legs stayed rooted to where I stood.
“Let me introduce”—Kiev motioned to the crowd—“Charles Worthington.”
My heart stopped. The name meant nothing to me.
A polite round of applause broke the tension within me as a boy of about twelve years old with curly black hair and glasses stood up from the front row and climbed the steps to the stage in an ambling stride. Kiev shook the new student’s hand and gave him a few minutes to address everyone. I almost laughed hysterically, running my fingers through my tangled hair. In my desperation, I had misunderstood Brittney’s words. The person I expected was more than cute. If he was here, everyone would surely know.
I twisted the knob poking my lower back and stumbled backward into the empty corridor. Each breath was like ice going in and fire coming out. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t bring myself to focus.
Of their own volition, my feet moved.
Eyes on the ground, I kept going without really thinking of where I’d end up. I didn’t care.
Soon I found myself on the second floor. I ran my hand along the wall as I walked. Once I neared the Chem lab, its automatic door opened with that familiar whoosh. I hesitated just outside, my gaze on the small gutter the door slid in.
I’d avoided the Chem lab for a reason, but that day my feet took me there without any help from my brain. Maybe it was a sign that I was strong enough to enter the room again. So, after a deep breath for courage, I lifted my foot and stepped inside. A second later the door whooshed closed.
“There you are.”
My head whipped up so fast, I grew dizzy and nearly fell over.
The morning light dimmed. A cloud must have covered the sun. I saw him in stages. The long, lustrous blue-black hair. The solid shoulders. The intense presence. The impeccable way he wore a simple suit with a navy tie, as if born in it. My breath hitched. My heart raced. My palms grew damp. I swallowed and waited, standing by the sliding door. I stopped breathing for a second. Troyan.
“Camron,” he said.
“You’re here.” I stepped forward. “You’re really here.”
Carefully, like he would disappear if I moved too fast, I weaved around the empty laboratory tables and closed the gap between us.
He started to wrap his arms around me, but I shook my head. He complied, letting his arms fall to his sides again. I lifted my hand, reaching for his hair and running my fingers through the black silk. The strands were still as lustrous as I remembered.
My fingers moved from his hair to his brow, tracing the dark arch that rose when I said something particularly interesting, annoying, or appealing. Then I moved on to his straight nose, the lines of his cheekbones, and his strong jaw, ending with the curve of his lips. But I still refused to meet his eyes. My knees trembled so bad, I thought I’d topple over.
Turning around, I walked away a few steps. I couldn’t be that close to him. I closed my eyes and breathed.
“Camron?”
His voice, deep and melodic, sent the hairs on the backs of my neck and arms standing on end. A voice I’d missed so much it hurt.
“I’m dreaming,” I whispered.
“I have to explain,” he said. “Before you, I had no breath. No heart. No life. I walked around numb to the world. When I allowed you to bite me, I was confident I would feel nothing since you were still fundamentally human. I was wrong. Because of your bite, I felt urges I had not paid attention to for centuries. You have no idea how much effort I needed to exert just to stop myself from crossing this room and holding you in my arms when I saw you enter. Being away from you is hell. But you must understand that the welfare of my people comes first. Always.”
Anger rose inside of me. “You don’t have to do this. I’ve heard it all before.”
“I want you to know.” His gaze became earnest. “Please, Camron, let me explain.”
Nothing had changed. I opened my eyes and turned around to confront him. I waited for what he had to say.
Uncertainty entered Troyan’s eyes, but he continued. “At first, I thought all my feelings were governed by our connection. I told myself I could control those urges, that I could keep myself from loving you. But, as the days passed, I slipped from carrying out our plans to caring for you. All I wanted was to keep you safe. More than anything, you needed to be safe. I, Inshari Regalia, an Effendi Excelsi, under the spell of love. It was frustrating yet thrilling.”
“Still you managed to focus on keeping Vladimir from the throne.”
“As I said, my people—”
“Yes, your people must come first,” I interrupted, no longer able to listen. “I understand.”
“Do you?” His lips quirked downward. “Do you really?”
“What’s not to understand?”
“Camron, I am here. That should count for something.”
; I crossed my arms. I was skeptical about his reasons, but I had to know. “What about the colony? Shouldn’t you be ruling it?”
Troyan dropped his gaze. He squeezed the back of his neck and said, “Zaire said this was not going to be easy. I should have listened to him.”
“Zaire?” My eyebrows rose. “What about him?”
“He said something about how an annoying human boy convinced him to stop running away from his responsibilities.”
My jaw dropped. Then I covered my mouth with both my hands. I couldn’t believe it.
“What happened?” I asked through my hands.
“After Vladimir and everyone affiliated with him were captured, Zaire took charge. My father was more than happy to give him back what was rightfully his. I still have not forgiven him for putting you in danger with Vladimir the way he did.”
In my giddy happiness, I ran toward Troyan. This time he engulfed me in his embrace. I breathed in the scent of him, trembling uncontrollably.
“Troyan,” I sobbed out.
I kept repeating his name the way I had all those nights I woke up in the hospital.
“Tears?” Troyan whispered into my ear. “Are you not happy to see me?”
I shook my head, rubbing my face against his jacket. My voice had disappeared for a moment. All I could do was sob and whimper and relish the warmth of his strong embrace.
Like a light bulb turning on in my head, I thought, Warmth? Troyan’s body temperature was always feverishly hot. I stood back a step and cupped his face with both my hands. His skin was warm, but not like he was running a fever. It was a normal warm. I pulled out of his embrace to look at him properly.
“You’re warm.”
Troyan chuckled. “As opposed to what?” He wiped away my tears with his thumbs.
“But… but….” I couldn’t wrap my head around it.
He smiled at my speechlessness. “Camron, I’m—”
“Human,” I blurted out.
“Almost,” he said.
“But how?” I asked, taking a step back.
Troyan pulled me into his arms again before I was out of his reach completely and rubbed the tension out of my back and shoulders.
“Gaige,” he said like a secret.
One word. One name that explained everything. For the first time, pummeling Troyan’s brother to the ground was the last thing I wanted to do.
“He finally did it,” I whispered, proud and full of gratitude at the same time.
“You did it,” Troyan said. “Without you Gaige would never have figured out how to make Inshari human. Our people would have continued to die. Our race would have ended. You did this, Camron.”
I’d done this. I’d served a purpose. My life had value. I wasn’t an invisible nothing. I was the guy who saved the Inshari from extinction. The guy a prince loved.
“I really did it, didn’t I?” I said.
With a low growl, one I knew so well, Troyan tilted my head up and kissed me. Its force felt like waves hitting the breakwater during a storm. Fierce. Unstoppable. I felt it all the way to my core, quenching a thirst I never realized I had. Stirring a hunger I had been ignoring for so long. My skin tingled as if tiny fireworks exploded underneath the surface. Without any hesitation, I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck. One of his hands moved to the small of my back, crushing me closer. I melted into his new warmth. My heart drummed in my ears by the time he broke the kiss.
“Still think this is a dream?” he asked with a voice so husky his words touched me like a caress.
I shook my head.
The next kiss was gentler than the first, giving rather than taking, but it still scorched me with its heat. He gave what I was asking for with such tenderness that it broke my heart and put it back together again. It was a kiss that said he was real, that he was there with me.
As hard as it was, I pulled back. I looked into his eyes and found my answers. Those intense black orbs stared back at me unfailingly, peeling away all the hurt, all the loneliness, and replacing them with warmth and truth.
“What now?” I whispered more than asked, afraid of the answer.
Troyan leaned in and gave me a quick kiss before he said so softly it was like a prayer, “With the formula nearing completion, I need to spread the word to the other colonies. You are looking at the one responsible for making that transition happen. I basically get to travel the world.”
His words sent life rushing back into my body. “What about me?”
Heat sparked in his eyes. “What are you doing for summer break?”
I smiled. I guess I’d be packing my bags.
EVA MUÑOZ loves dreaming of worlds filled with hot guys falling in love with each other. She believes that love is love is love and everyone has a right to find their person. Her love for writing began in high school. It was because her teacher complimented a story she had written that put her on the path she is on today. She would spin yarns on her father’s electric typewriter, bind the pages together, and bring the finished product to school for her classmates to pass around and swoon over. Little did she know at the time that writing would be a career she never knew she wanted.
She may have taken a circuitous path toward her passion for writing, but when she finally made the decision to stick with it after countless rejections, she never looked back. A degree in creative writing helps too. When she’s not at her favorite coffee shop thinking up new worlds and characters to explore, you can find Eva in a classroom teaching creative writing of all things. Talk about passion meets day job. Today she is molding impressionable minds the way her teacher once did for her.
By Eva Muñoz
INSHARI CHRONICLES
I Dare You to Break Curfew
Published by HARMONY INK PRESS
www.harmonyinkpress.com
Published by
HARMONY INK PRESS
5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886 USA
[email protected] • harmonyinkpress.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
I Dare You to Break Curfew
© 2019 Eva Muñoz.
Cover Art
© 2019 Kanaxa.
Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.
All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Harmony Ink Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or [email protected].
Digital ISBN: 978-1-64405-002-6
Trade Paperback ISBN: 978-1-64405-003-3
Library of Congress Control Number: 2018910725
Digital published August 2019
v. 1.0
Printed in the United States of America
