Chapter Eighteen
The morning dew in the air clung to my sweat slicked body as I flipped the dagger in my hand, a little smile playing on my lips as Roan eyed the thin trail of blood on his arm from the knick I had given him.
"This is the fourth time you've drawn blood, little menace." His deep voice sent a thrill racing down my spine, my eyes locking in on the smirk that formed upon his lips. “Anymore and you'll surely bleed me dry."
It had been a few days since we had met for training, as Roan had been busy with delegating his duties as Captain of the KingsGuard to those he trusted within his men while he'd be on the quest.
My body hummed with the pent up energy of those days he had been away, craving the release our sparring matches had begun to provide. It was as if something settled within me, calming the beast that always seemed to rage just beneath my skin.
My breaths came heavily, a teasing smile forming. "I told you that daggers are my speciality, did you doubt me?"
"Never."
I turned my attention to focus on a drop of dew making its descent down a blade of grass at my feet instead of his gaze that bored into me as I reached for the two whetstones we had cast aside earlier, tossing one to him.
Settling into a cross-legged position on the ground, the sound of sharpening blades filled the silence as we fell into our routine.
It was surprising how comfortable it was to be in Roan's presence, that dangerous undercurrent still brimming just beneath the surface, but it seemed easier now. A steadiness in our interactions that seemingly lifted the heaviness that usually encased me.
It felt as if a tenuous friendship was beginning to form, and I didn't entirely hate it.
"What's the deal with you and McCay?"
My head snapped up, my dagger slipping a bit as I met his gaze, but his was not on me, instead fixated on a point over my shoulder. I turned slightly, searching for the source of the ire that flamed in his eyes.
A head of golden hair was slowly making its way across the field, a path that would lead the culprit directly to where we were sitting. A groan slipped from my lips as I ran my blade against the stone once more, actively ignoring the man that approached.
"I'd rather not say.” My response had his brow rising, his hand stilling from where it sharpened his blade.
Nine Hells, this was the last thing I wanted right now. With the quest so close, I felt as if it was a tangible thing I could reach out and touch. A spark of longing ignited within me to begin the adventure.
A spark that was immediately snuffed as an aggravating voice spoke far too close for comfort. "Sy, do you have a minute?"
Sy.
The familiarity in that name had my hackles rising, my skin itching.
"No."
The singular word was clipped, nearly emotionless, besides the small trace of annoyance that I let linger in it. There was silence for a moment, a tension building in the air as Aldrin stood awkwardly before Roan and I.
"Come on, don't be like this Sy—"
"If I speak with you now will you leave me alone and just let me do my trials in peace?"
A throat cleared and I glanced over. Roan's attention was firmly fixed to where the blade of his sword glided over the whetstone, but I could see the smirk that lifted the corner of his lips.
With a huff, I tossed my dagger onto the grass, checking that my second was still securely strapped to my thigh, and rose to my feet in one smooth movement.
I briskly walked a few feet away, opting for privacy before I rounded on Aldrin.
"What do you want?" The question came out harsh, perhaps harsher than I had intended, but my frustration was choking me. Crawling a fiery path up my throat that had my fingers curling, dancing across my palm as I tapped a nervous rhythm.
"Are you truly so bitter over what happened that we can't have even one civil conversation?" His exasperated tone had me freezing, my arms going limp with shock.
"Excuse me?"
"You know I tried to get Bran to convince you to at least speak with me after what happened—"
My rage rushed through my ears, drowning out his words. I stepped closer as my eyes narrowed, my feet moving without permission.
“After what happened?” The chilling, incredulous tone of my voice forced him back a step, surely remembering the ache of a broken nose. "Please do tell me Aldrin, how is," I paused, a finger tapping my chin, "what was her name again, Melody? Melinda?"
"She was a mistake—"
"Yes, I'm sure me walking in on you Nine Hells deep in another woman was just an accident." My tone was mocking now. “Did you slip and fall in Aldrin, was that it?"
His jaw clenched as he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “”Glad to see you're still the sarcastic bitch you've always been, Syra." His eyes glinted with a newfound malice as his head tilted slightly. “So what then? You're now the Prince's new plaything and you're just okay with that?"
My rage tempered a bit at that, brows scrunching in confusion. “What in Soli's wrath are you talking about?"
"I saw you with him, dressed so extravagantly, that night he brought you to whatever is in that room," he sneered, his lip curling.
It hit me then, Aldrin hadn't known what was behind that door, who was behind it. He was merely a recruit in training, of course he wouldn't have been the one permitted to go check on the Healer.
My laugh was cruel, eyes lifting to the sky as I let out a breath.
"Think whatever you wish, Aldrin, you have no right to be jealous over what I do.
I'm not going to stand around and be insulted by someone who's opinion I couldn't care less about.
" Turning, I took a singular step back towards Roan when a harsh grip encased my wrist, tugging me back.
My head snapped, taking in the fury that burned in those blue eyes, but before I could say even a word, the icy chill of water was snaking over my arm.
It was nearly a loving caress over my skin before it wrapped around Aldrin's wrist with such force that I could hear the bones grinding beneath its pressure, a pained cry falling from his lips as he released his hold on me.
"Careful, McCay, I believe the lady said she was done speaking.
" My head whipped towards Roan as he spoke, his voice dark with warning, his eyes never straying from the sword he was sharpening.
"I've seen how you fair on the training field, and I don't think you would do well against that dagger strapped to her thigh. "
My lips parted, heart skipping as his words soothed the stinging ache that had been building in my chest from the conversation.
"Was I wrong?" Aldrin's voice was sharp, like talons scraping down my back, low enough that I was sure Roan couldn't hear his words. “Not the Prince’s whore then, but the Kinslayer’s?"
It happened in a moment.
A stilling of the air, the temperature dropping as the dew that clung to my skin rose, a precarious thread pulled taught with tension as it hovered.
And when it snapped, goddess. It felt as if the hells themselves came for vengeance.
The moisture of air and earth converged into a blast so powerful that it knocked Aldrin from his feet.
The water coalesced as it rushed over his body, travelling to his mouth and down his throat.
Not stopping for even a moment as it drowned him on land, filling his airway and lungs.
His eyes bulged, his hands clawing at his mouth, the skin of his throat, as he fought for a breath to no avail.
I was frozen, my feet unmoving, my lungs empty and eyes wide as I watched his writhing form on the ground at my feet, his back arching as his hands gripped at the grass beneath him. It was an extraordinary display of powerful magic. Luanthian magic.
"Roan—”
The man stalked past me, a predator in every sense of the word, and Aldrin McCay was clearly his intended prey.
The water receded, the blond man on the ground retching up the drops that remained, his body shaking as Roan reached in one fluid movement to grasp him by the collar and haul him to his feet.
He leaned in then, stooping to snarl something I could not hear into Aldrin's ear, that white knuckled grip still clutching his shirt.
And then it was over.
Roan shoved him back as he released Aldrin, and without so much as a glance in my direction, he was stumbling back the way he had come.
Roan watched with a casual indifference, but I knew.
Knew from the way his shoulders tensed and the clench of his jaw that he was waiting for that prick to look back, to say something again.
When he turned to me, his gaze softened, his muscles relaxing and without a word he moved back to his spot on the grass, reaching for his sword and whetstone.
I didn't reach for my dagger as I watched him work, my mind trying to sort out exactly what just took place.
“So that was interesting.” I watched as his practiced hands slipped when I spoke, his throat bobbing. With a sigh I reached for my own blade. “You didn’t have to—”
"Don't." The word was a command, or perhaps a plea.
His voice was soft, yet hard, all at once.
Gentle yet unyielding. "I know you are capable—more than capable—but he is under my command, Syra.
He knows what is acceptable and what is not," his teeth ground, his blade sliding a bit rougher than necessary against the stone.
"To speak to a woman in such a manner is not something I tolerate. "
Of course, he was a Captain doling out punishment to an insubordinate recruit. That was all it was.
So why did it feel like it was more than that?
My head tilted. “How did you even hear what he said?"
His posture relaxed as he gestured to the air around us. “There is water all around, the smallest movement, the tiniest sound causes a ripple and sings to me."
"You magic sings to you?" Instantly my thoughts went to the shadows that ran through my veins, that nestled into my soul. Was his magic as sentient as mine? Was all Luanthian magic like this?
I had always begged Merle to tell me what her magic felt like, if it spoke to her, but Merle had only ever said that her fire was like a heat within her. Never something that called out to her, but just a constant burning thing deep within the core of her that she could pull on at any moment.
"It makes the most beautiful sounds," he said, a soft smile gracing his face, his eyes going distant as if listening.
“There is no voice, no words, but it's like the hum of a siren.
A constant thing that soothes and caresses everything within me and I just know, I can feel whatever it wishes for me to understand. "
"That's incredible," I breathed. His eyes met mine, something swirling within them that I couldn't quite decipher before he glanced back down, his throat clearing as he continued to work.
"That's usually not the response I get when people witness my blessed magic." There was a tension in the laugh he forced out that had my smile falling, my lips instead pulling down.
Shifting, I rested my hand atop the one that held his blade so he would meet my stare once more. "To have a magic that sings to you, that soothes you, is truly amazing. Whether it be from the Sun Goddess or not, you have a beautiful gift."
Silence enveloped us and I pulled my hand back, nervous fingers instantly reaching for my blade as I focused upon my task.
“And thank you for earlier, with Aldrin.
" My lips pursed thoughtfully. "You're right that I could have handled it alone, but sometimes it's nice to know that you don't always have to. "
He smiled then, a genuine one, that had a rising heat flush across my cheeks.
At that moment I thought I would very much like to see that smile more often as the warmth of my face spread and nestled deep into my heart.