Thirty #3
I can’t believe I left the castle tonight, and with someone I barely know. I’ve never done anything so reckless—what’s that? A soft gasp left me as I plucked one red strand from the sea of blonde. Why hasn’t it faded away? Will it stay forever? Should I cut it?
I set the brush down and took a steadying breath, telling myself not to panic.
The strand was very thin and near the back of my head.
It could be easily concealed. Once I had buried it under the rest of my hair, I walked to the door that led into Adrian’s room.
As I turned the key to unlock it, doubt crept in.
Would he be able to pick up on Finn’s scent or notice the red strand?
The door opened before I could change my mind.
Adrian stared at me from the shadows of his bedroom.
“I thought I heard you by the door,” he said, his tone hopeful.
“Yes, I couldn’t sleep,” I lied. “I hope I didn’t wake you?”
“You didn’t. I wasn’t asleep, either. I’m feeling…restless.” He reached up and rubbed his chest with his right hand. My gaze dropped to the opening in his loose sleep shirt.
“Is it because of the ancient magic? Thea said it might be time for me to siphon it from you again.”
“She’s right.” He tugged on the collar, exposing more of his bare chest. Silver patterns covered it, glowing in the low light that filled the hallway.
My mouth opened in shock, and before I knew what I was doing, my fingers brushed the pulsing vines. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to push you.” His voice sounded rougher than before as he became impossibly still while I gently traced the shimmering lines.
“It’s my duty. What’s this?” I carefully touched the raised, jagged scar that was close to his heart, too close.
“That’s courtesy of Tarn. He stabbed me a few years ago.”
“He stabbed you?!” My gaze snapped up to his face.
He looked paler than usual, with dark, bluish circles under his eyes.
He sounded tired as he said, “He tried to kill me. My father was disappointed that he failed.”
My hand trembled slightly as I pressed it more fully to his chest. I couldn’t even begin to understand what he must have gone through growing up surrounded by a family of monsters. There were so many things I wanted to say, but none of them felt right.
“The scar wasn’t there on the night we…” I swallowed.
“The glamor spell that changed my appearance was concealing it.”
“Why did it scar in the first place when as a Fae you heal so quickly?”
“The blade Tarn used to inflict the wound was spelled.” A low grunt followed his words as more silver vines branched out from the ones already covering his body.
My eyes widened as I said, “What terrible magic. Terrible but also beautiful. It fills me with sunshine and joy when I take it in.”
“That’s a relief to hear. It fills my veins with liquid ice.”
I suddenly felt on the verge of tears. He had already overcome so much, only to inherit a life of suffering.
“Let me ease your pain,” I whispered, looking into his eyes that hid so much anguish.
When he nodded and covered my hand on his chest with his, I thought back to that day in the throne room, to the last time I had siphoned the ancient magic from him.
As I had done then, I summoned Silberium to me as if it were a living thing.
I pictured a river of silver flowing through Adrian’s veins, and then I changed its current, directing it to my palm resting on his hard chest. His eyes began to glow, and I knew that my eyes were also glowing as we worked together.
“You don’t want to take too much,” Lady May’s warning floated up in my mind. But it was difficult to stop when each tiny fragment of me was lighting up with liquid sunshine. I could swim in the life-giving waters of Silberium forever, gulping it down but never quite quenching my thirst.
“Emelin?” Adrian’s voice brought me back to the dimly lit hallway.
When I focused on him, his eyes were no longer glowing, and he had lowered my hand from his chest. He was still holding it, creating a link between us.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, his gaze roaming my face.
“I feel replenished and renewed, as if the entire world is at my fingertips.” I smiled. “How are you? Are you feeling better?”
“Yes.” He exhaled harshly with relief before he smiled, too.
I looked down at his chest and found that the patterns were gone. The scar next to his heart remained, and I caught myself wishing that I could somehow make it disappear as well.
“Do you have to release what you have siphoned immediately? Or can you wait until tomorrow? I can glimmer you to Emeraldia first thing in the morning,” Adrian said in a cheerful tone.
“I can wait, but you won’t take me; Thea will.”
His face fell as I turned to leave. “Wait.” He tugged on the hand he was still holding.
“Stay with me.” The hushed words called out straight to my heart, pulling on the delicate strings.
I hesitated, and a spark of hope flared in his eyes.
“We don’t have to do anything. I just want you close. Please.”
A moment ago, I had wanted to erase the scar on his chest, but what about the wound in my chest? The one carved out by his betrayal. It was still raw.
“I can’t.” I pulled my hand from his and retreated into my room.