Chapter 48 #2
The reason for her surrender.
I paced idly around the room, running through the information I’d gathered through the years. What did I know?
Draxxon and Hamon had a mind link.
Which I didn’t. My mind remained empty of another presence.
The strange urge rising in me now was unmistakable—the tamer’s will was the mental pushback used to direct the wyrm in battle. As the harmony hummed between us, I knew Nelle trusted me implicitly.
I came to a halt. Nelle stood unnaturally still, watching me with big eyes.
My gaze trailed over the coiled collar, partly obscured by the heavy mane of hair falling over her chest. Zrenyth’s magic supposedly bound the wyrm, nullifying its power.
Maybe the wyrm wasn’t buried as deeply as expected.
Maybe Zrenyth’s magic was fraying. But as I sifted through our connection, I didn’t detect the beast. The sway was with Nelle alone.
She was bonded with her wyrm, and her traits, as I’d grown to know her, were much like the beast’s.
Fiery and impulsive and quick of temper.
I knew I had to test the sway.
I raised my hand, palm up, focusing on the urge for her to reach toward it, but not touch. Then I pushed a mental command down the lines of power.
Nelle kept her gaze on mine as she lifted her palm to hover in front of my own. I lifted my other hand, and she followed, and when I leaned slowly to the side, she mirrored me, our bodies swinging in perfect unison.
My senses fixed on the music floating from the Keep. Caidan began playing a song I recognized, Lorde’s 400 Lux, the upbeat tempo awash with a hint of melancholy. The song title was rather apt for a girl forged from sunshine.
I closed my eyes, sinking into the song, tapping my foot in time with the tempo.
The silvery threads of dark magic strummed a sonorous chord deep inside.
I wrapped my demand, my tamer’s will, around those threads binding us together and focused on what I wanted.
No touching. I needed to test the sway as a mental connection, not a physical one.
Focusing on the music made it easier to push against her mentally.
I flicked my eyes open and started gently, urging Nelle sideways until we stood side by side.
A few quick steps forward and back. Quick-quick-slow.
She whirled to face me, her hand hovering near my shoulder as I arched back and she canted forward.
She swayed with each gentle nudge down the cords of power.
Straightening, I upped the tempo, Nelle matching my fast footsteps as we glided about the room with Lorde’s song rippling through the air. Caidan poured himself into the music, his fingers beating out a run of chords as the chorus kicked in with the electropop melody overlapping the bass notes.
I raised our hands and spun beneath them, then twirled her around me. I was her center, and she was a spinning star orbiting my body.
Somewhere along the way, I realized we were dancing forró. It was usually a physically intimate dance, but we didn’t touch—our hands hovered close, hips closer, though I kept her at a slight distance.
Balmy nights on the Keep’s roof flashed through my mind.
After a feast of vó Bel’s feijoada, my family would gather there to dance.
My paternal grandmother loved dancing, and my dad grew up with dances like the samba, bachata, and forró.
My siblings and I were brought into Avó Isobel’s fold.
As a kid, she’d take me by the hand and teach me a new dance as my father twirled my mother around on the rooftop, the sun lazily descending in the distance.
The chime of vó Bel’s laughter as I fumbled and stepped on her toes was something I missed. I missed her.
I was fairly certain Nelle would never know these dance steps, and yet we flowed together, forward and back, a quick crossing of footsteps as I whirled us in a tight circle, guiding her about the room with the sway.
I flicked her out and back into me again, bending her to the honeyed sway of my hips as we spun and twirled wherever the music took us.
We were in accord with one another. Our movements harmonious. Nelle’s hair swirled in a sweeping arc of ribbons as I spun her beneath my raised hand. Joy vibrated down the magical bindings, and when she smiled at me, her smile grew broader when I returned my own.
The music slowly faded, then died. Caidan didn’t start a new piece. He’d either finished his session for the day or perhaps was still deciding what he wanted to play next.
Nelle and I came to a slow, swaying halt.
It was quiet in the tower with just the sound of our puffing breaths, my heartbeat thudding in my ears. My gaze flicked over Nelle’s strange, deathly stillness, her attention fixated on me.
My smile faltered.
How bad was this?
Did she have any will at all?
Could she stop herself if she didn’t want to do something I asked of her?
A terrifying rush of fear shivered down my spine. What if she couldn’t? What if I were forcing her to do something she didn’t want to do?
I needed to ask Nelle to do something I knew she’d never do.
But what?
A low whine from Sage made me glance over. The wraith-wolf circled Nelle, sniffing her. Curiosity shone in his silvery eyes, but when he nudged her hand, a ripple of unease shivered through his shadowy coat when she didn’t respond. I had all of her attention.
Sage’s bushy tail drooped, and he let out a whimper.
My shoulders stiffened. I had my answer right here.
“Okay, you’re going to have to trust me on this.” Sage’s ears pricked forward as his gaze sliced to me, eyes narrowing as he considered me for a moment.
The wraith-wolf’s throat arched back as he gave a sharp bark, bounding to my side. His raspy tongue tickled when he licked my fingertips. An encouragement. An urging. Approval, I thought.
Nelle’s gaze stalked me like a sunflower following the sun as I moved toward the dining table, Sage padding at my heels with a low, uncertain huff.
On the polished surface, I caught the reflection of my face with her gray eyes shining back at me.
I turned around to rest my ass against the curved lip and crossed my arms over my chest, an ankle over the other, feigning casualness.
Sage sat on his haunches beside me.
“Kick your dog,” I ordered Nelle.