Freed from Gravity (Bound and Freed #2)

Chapter 7

Seven

ALLETTE

The bedroom door flies open, and Senan bursts into the room. He sprints over to the dresser and drags the top drawer open to grab a pair of thick, wooly socks.

I set the book I was reading onto the bedside table, tucking the scrap of ribbon I’ve been using as a bookmark in between the pages. Who knew Widow Mae had such a scandalous collection of romance novels?

“Why are you in such a hurry?” I ask.

Balancing on one leg, Senan stuffs his foot into the first sock. “Look outside.”

I push off the bed and go to the window, drawing the curtains aside. All I see are snow-covered trees. After being here for two weeks, I’ve had enough snow to last a lifetime.

Senan swaps legs, leaning his hip against the mattress as he dons the second sock. “Do you see it?”

“The snow?”

“No, Allette. The sun .”

Sure enough, that elusive ball of light hangs above the trees in a cerulean sky.

Senan takes off like a shot, then skids to a halt when he reaches the doorway. He has officially lost his mind.

“Aren’t you coming?” he asks, all sparkling silver eyes and excited smiles.

The first properly excited smile I’ve seen since we arrived. “Coming where?”

“Outside!” He smacks the doorframe and disappears down the hallway.

Why would anyone want to venture out there when it’s so warm and toasty in here?

I drift into the living room, watching him shove his stockinged feet into his boots. When he finishes, he starts for the door in nothing but his trousers, boots, and bandages. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” If he steps outside in that, he’s going to turn into a fae icicle.

The muscles of his toned stomach flex as he glances down at himself, his brow furrowing.

“A shirt, Senan. And a coat.” The sun might be shining but it’s still winter. The air will still have a chill.

“I cannot get proper sunlight in a shirt.” He sweeps out the door only to come right back with his teeth bared in a grimace. “It’s fucking freezing out there.”

“I told you so. This realm isn’t like ours.” In Kumulus, the sun brings heat no matter the season. Down here, you must wait until nearly summer for any sort of warmth.

Senan huffs and puffs, his hands flexing at his sides. “It’s fine. I’m strong. I can handle a little breeze.”

Strength has nothing to do with it. Down here, you must be practical. Walking around in the dead of winter without proper attire is just plain foolish.

I take my cloak and Senan’s coat from the hook, following him out into the bright day. Sunlight glints off the snow like crystals, forcing me to squint against its brilliance.

Senan’s boots sink as he stomps away from the house to the middle of the clearing. The color of the sky above reminds me of my wings and hair. Speaking of, I must purchase a bottle of dye the next time I venture into the village. Wouldn’t want the humans to realize I’m not one of them.

Senan’s lashes fall closed as he lifts his face toward the sun.

Perhaps he is right to try and catch as many of its rays before the clouds return. Restoring his magic could help him heal quicker, and there’s no telling if we will need our elements to protect ourselves.

Not that it would work for very long. Unless that’s another lie we’ve been told.

Better safe than sorry, I suppose.

Reluctantly, I set our coats on the ground and unbutton the front of my dress, letting the material fall around my waist, leaving me in a shift and skirts.

Why must it be so bloody cold? Goosebumps pebble my skin, and my nipples are hard as stone.

Five minutes. That’s all. I can stand to be outside for five minutes, can’t I?

I screw my eyes closed and steady my breathing, searching for the familiar heat of magic inside my chest.

Tell me this is going to work. Heaven knows we need something to go right.

“Can you feel anything yet?” I ask.

“Not yet.”

His well would’ve been depleted from his body attempting to heal itself. Bloody Boris . What I wouldn’t give to take that bastard’s wings—to make him suffer through the same pain he inflicted on us both.

I peek through my lashes at Senan’s bandages, hating his brother even more.

Senan peers back, his gaze not on my face but on my chest. Desire burns like fire through my blood. I force my eyes closed once more; otherwise, I’m going to end up abandoning the sun for the heat of my prince’s body.

My toes are the first to go numb, swiftly followed by my fingers.

Are any kingdoms in this realm warm, or do they all suffer from the affliction that is snow? What I wouldn’t give for a hot, sunny climate. How simple it would be to restore our magic then.

The dregs of my power stir beneath my skin. Finally . A few sunny days and I should be fully restored?—

Something solid and cold strikes my shoulder.

When I open my eyes, I find the remains of a snowball splatter onto my boot.

Senan grins from across the way, packing a second snowball between his hands.

“Don’t you dare.” It’s already cold enough out here without being covered in snow.

He tosses the snowball into the air, catching it with a single hand. “Or what?”

“Or I shall be the one to tie you down and have my wicked way with you.”

He draws back his arm and launches the snow directly at me. I duck a second too late, and the snow grazes my temple. I should’ve known the threat wouldn’t be a deterrent.

“You’re going to pay for that.” I scoop a big hunk of snow with my stiff fingers and throw the ball at my prince, nailing him on the hip. There’s no time to celebrate. Senan tosses another snowball, this one barely missing my shoulder.

I’m going to bury him.

With each ball I make, I draw closer, throwing them one after the other, barely formed but rapidly fired, giving him no time to launch an assault.

He hunkers down, doing his best to block while creating an arsenal of his own. When he attacks, he does so with no accuracy, mostly hitting my skirts, although there is one that strikes my left breast, soaking the material of my shift.

Senan’s hand freezes mid-throw, his gaze trailing down the translucent silk, his tongue darting out across his pink lips. The flush on his cheeks deepens.

It’s just the distraction I need.

I hurl my final snowball, hitting him in the dead center of his chest. Clutching his heart with a dramatic groan, Senan falls face-first into the snow.

I steal one of his snowballs, holding it above my head, ready to deal the killing blow. “Do you yield?”

“How can I not, you vicious woman?” When he lifts his head, snow clings to his lashes and eyebrows. “You look utterly terrifying right now. I don’t think I’ve ever been more attracted to you.”

My stomach flutters. Leave it to my mate to turn a snowball fight into foreplay.

“And you look utterly frozen.” I kneel next to him, clearing the white chunks away. “Can you feel your magic yet?”

He sits up with a shudder. “I’m too cold to feel anything.”

I know what he means. Whose idea was it to start a snowball fight, anyway? “Will we go back inside?”

“I’m afraid there is no other option if I want to keep my manhood.”

I head straight for the cottage, my teeth already starting to chatter.

Senan collects our coats, keeping a measured pace on his way back to the stoop. When he starts coughing, I whirl, shooting him a glower.

“Don’t give me that look,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “This is your fault. You’re the one who hit me in the chest.”

“That wouldn’t make you cough, you fool.”

“Tell that to the hole you put in my lung.”

This man. What am I going to do with him?

Once I’ve changed into a dry dress, I throw on the kettle for tea. Senan pads into the kitchen in nothing but a fresh pair of trousers. Without the bandages, it’s almost possible to forget what happened to him.

Until he turns around.

What remains of his wings don’t stick out quite as much after being bound, but they still look awfully sore. “Can you feel your magic now?”

His smile wavers, but only a little. “Not even a spark.”

That’s not surprising. It wasn’t until we were hurtling through the sky that I even realized magic still sang in my blood. I rest my hip against the counter, wishing I understood how I was able to access my power. For four years I lived in this realm, soaking in as much sunlight as I could, and never felt so much as a spark. It’s like in falling, I was able to break through an invisible barrier.

Now it’s Senan’s turn. “Try to call a flame to your palm.”

He holds out his hand with his palm facing the ceiling, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Come on. One little flame. That’s all we need.

He shakes his head, his hand dropping to his thigh. “It’s not there.”

I fold his frigid fingers in mine. My own magic stirs, not as strong as it once was but stronger than it felt before we ventured into the sunlight. I urge the power from my hand to his. “How about now?”

Sighing, he lifts his free hand once more. “I feel nothing.”

“Try to focus?—”

“I am focusing.”

“Just try?—”

He yanks his hand away. “ Enough . There’s nothing left, Allette. It’s all gone.”

“It cannot be all gone.”

“It is.” His hand flexes into a white-knuckled fist. “Every single drop is gone. I don’t know why you still have magic, but mine isn’t there anymore. Boris stole my power along with my wings, and I’m never getting them back.”

The kettle lets out a shrill shriek.

I understand how difficult it is to remain positive, but if we allow ourselves to be flooded by anger and self-pity, what’s to stop us from drowning?

He drags his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry, Allette. I’m just frustrated—beyond frustrated. I thought I’d feel something .”

I wrap my arms around his waist, drawing him into my embrace. “You will.” One way or another, I will make it my mission to help him find at least one of the things the king stole from him.