Chapter 4
Annika
Magic sparks against my skin as Dagon and I push apart a mass of green leaves and step over some sort of invisible threshold. Cassandra warned us about the magical ward, but I still gasp as the magic encompasses me.
“This is incredible,” I say before I can stop myself, overcome by the view. A cerulean cove of water stretches out before us, a stunning waterfall roaring down the mountain across the pond. The night sky is dusted with soft silver clouds, and the water sparkles everywhere the moonlight touches.
“Not a bad place to bring a mistress,” Dagon says, and I gape at him. He shrugs. “What? That’s what Cassandra said her father used this place for.”
“That’s awful,” I say, shaking my head.
“Some nobles are,” he says, heading further down the bank, closer to the water.
Part of that feels like another ploy to provoke me, but…
“I won’t argue with you,” I say, and it must shock the hell out of him because his eyebrows hike high on his head.
It makes me chuckle. I give him a shrug.
“I grew up around some of the worst nobles imaginable,” I continue.
“And despite what you may think, my family doesn’t adhere to the self-serving bullshit most of the noble families do.
” Though, they did indulge in some arranged marriages on occasion.
One of many reasons I wanted to escape the confines of the place I used to call home.
The king’s residence feels more like my home now in more ways than the place I grew up ever did. I’ll never be able to repay my aunt for bringing me back with her when she did.
“I don’t think that about your family,” he says.
It’s my turn to be shocked.
“What?” he shrugs. “I told you emotion is key. And I’ve always had the innate ability to dig beneath people’s skin.”
I huff another laugh, nodding. “You’re so talented.”
“I’ll remind you of that when you’re cursing me later,” he says, then motions to the water. “The wards will serve a better purpose with us than what Cassandra’s asshole of a father used it for.”
I snort. “Yeah, cause I’m not your mistress.”
He eyes me, those searing blues reaching down to my core and tugging on it.
Ugh. Prick. Why does he have to look so damn good in nothing but a white T-shirt and a simple pair of shorts?
“I’d have to have a wife or a mate for you to be a mistress,” he fires back, a smirk on his lips.
“You sound like that’s about as appealing as these lessons you hate,” I grumble, following him closer to the water. An awareness inside me prickles on my fingertips. I can sense every droplet of that water, like a feather brushing my skin. I just don’t know how to wield it.
“I don’t hate these lessons,” he says, flashing me a chiding look. “Do I think our time and energy is needed elsewhere? Yes. I do. We’re at war. But the king wants our family strong, so here we are.”
I swallow hard. The last thing I want is my lack of skills to be putting our family at risk.
“But you’re right,” he continues. “I’m not about the mate life.”
I laugh. “You know, for an ancient like yourself, you certainly caught up with modern language quickly.”
“You can thank Ajax for that,” he says. “Pausing time so we could catch up really came in handy.” He shakes his head. “I had no idea we’d be out that long. Still, I thought it then and I think it now—a mate? Not for me.”
I tilt my head, intrigued. “Why?” I ask. “You see how happy Talon and Cassandra are. And Zacharia. Ajax.”
“They’re happy now, sure,” he says. “But…”
He’s silent so long I take a step toward him to grab his attention. “But what?”
He sighs. “Talia is one of the strongest females among us, and she was almost killed two weeks ago.”
I cringe, the memory of the story slicing through me. It’s one of the main reasons I want to control my power. I want to be able to help whenever the next fight is brought to our doorstep.
“Zachariah wouldn’t have survived it,” Dagon continues, his features grave. He looks at the water, like he’s seeing something else entirely. “Mates are a weakness hunters can’t afford.”
“That’s a sad thought,” I say. “Especially since three of your hunter brothers are already mated.”
Dagon shrugs. “I’m not saying it’s avoidable,” he says. “But it’s a cost I’m not willing to pay.”
“I think finding a mate would be better than the alternative,” I say.
He cocks a brow at me. “Staying single and enjoying life?”
Heat dusts my cheeks. “No,” I say. “Having your family choose who you’ll marry.”
The playful smirk melts off his face and he nods. “Yeah, that’s not okay either. You should be the one to make that decision. No one else.”
My heart flutters at that. I tell it to stop. He’s my teacher—begrudged one at that—but nothing more.
“At least with a mate, you know fate selected your match,” I say.
“Against an arranged marriage,” Dagon says. “I get wanting a stronger connection.”
“I didn’t say I wanted one,” I say. “I said it would be better than the alternative. Also, it’s hard not to entertain it when you live in a residence full of mated couples. You can’t step into a room without feeling the bonded effects.”
Dagon laughs, and I hate how much I love the sound.
“It can get insufferable sometimes,” he says, his vocabulary slipping into that ancient cadence he sometimes doesn’t realize he has. And I’d just complimented him on his modern lingo too. He nods to the water. “Are you done stalling with this small talk are we going to do some work?”
I part my lips, anger flaring. “I wasn’t stalling—”
“Sure,” he cuts me off. “You wanted Edgemont River, so I give you…” He waves an arm toward the water. “Whatever the hell this one is called.”
I snort a laugh, shaking my head.
“The wards will help,” he continues. “You won’t be able to damage anything.”
“Except you?” I tease.
He grins, and my belly flips. “If trying to hurt me motivates you, use it.”
I swallow hard. The idea of actually hurting him makes my stomach sour.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” I admit, rolling my eyes.
He shrugs. “You can’t,” he says matter-of-factly. And yeah, he’s a bajillion-year-old hunter, but still. He could pretend to be intimidated. “But if it gets you there, then use it.”
“Gets me there?” I gape at him. My entire body feels too hot. The island is warm and humid even at night, and normally I’d be jumping up and down at the prospect of wearing nothing but bikinis and sundresses all night long, but now? God, I can’t breathe with him looking at me like that.
Dagon steps closer, until there’s only a few inches of space between us. “I told you, emotion is your way in. It’s a powerful tool. Use it. If it’s anger, go for it. If it’s sadness or happiness or whatever, use it.”
My heart races. He’s so close I could reach out and touch him if I wanted. Could run my fingers over that muscled chest and see what he feels like. My fangs ache, desperate to sink into—
Nope.
He’s my teacher.
And he wants nothing to do with me.
Focus.
I take a breath. “Okay,” I say, hating the way my voice sounds so small.
I turn toward the water, doing my best to focus on that sensation in my blood, the one altering me to the mass of liquid around me. I can feel it, but it’s also like it’s trapped behind something. A roadblock whenever I try to grab it.
“Are you trying?” Dagon asks after a few minutes.
I glare at him. “Yes.”
He raises his hands in defense, falling quiet again as I focus.
Move. Come on. Move.
“What emotion are you using?” he asks after another few minutes goes by and nothing happens.
“I don’t know,” I sigh. “Frustration?”
He laughs. “That’s not going to work.”
“You said use whatever I was feeling!”
“I said use what works,” he fires back. “What gets you there.” He rolls his eyes. “Get in the water.”
“What?”
“Come on,” he says, kicking off his shoes and wading into the water.
I hesitate, stunned by the way the bottom of his white shirt looks clinging to his carved abdomen.
“There’s nothing in here that will bite you,” he chides me.
Except him.
A flutter ripples down the center of me, the image of him sinking his fangs into my neck making my skin feel too tight for my body.
Damn. I need to stop using that fantasy when I touch myself. It’s bleeding into my reality a little too much.
I hurry out of my shoes, and timidly step into the water, stopping a foot away from him.
“Now what?” I ask.
“What do you feel?”
I sigh. “The water feels nice. It’s warm—”
“Not physically,” he says. “Emotionally?”
I press my lips together. Hungry. Needy. Achy.
“Frustrated,” I admit.
He groans. “Draw up anything else,” he says. “Whatever you were thinking about when you froze everything in the bathroom. Or whatever you were thinking when you made the water explode yesterday.”
A knot forms in my throat.
Him. I was thinking about him both times.
“Okay,” I say. “But then what? After I think about that…what do I do?”
He opens and closes his lips a few times. “You use it.” He shrugs. “It’s hard to explain.”
“You can’t even try to break it down into steps for me?”
“There isn’t an instruction manual for this,” he says. “You just make it work.”
“I’m so glad you’re my teacher. You make it so easy.”
“Hey, I didn’t ask to be here,” he snaps.
“So you keep reminding me,” I fire back, humiliation clinging to the sharpness inside me.
The water ripples between us, just enough to splash his chest.
Dagon smiles. “Seems like anger gets you there.”
I press my lips together, holding onto it.
Clinging to the fact that Alek had to order him to teach me, to work with me. To the fact that I can’t get him out of my head, even when I try. To the way he looks, grinning at me like he’s actually proud of me when he never says as much.
Another wave builds between us, and excitement thrills through me at the way it feels, like I’m one with the water—
It drops.
“Ugh!” I smack the water in frustration.
Dagon chuckles.
I glare at him. “You do it then if you’re so perfect!”