Chapter Four Nadir
Ibrush past Lor, flinging open the door and descending the steps onto the busy street. I’m breaking my rule about using the front entrance, but I need to catch up with Gabriel.
“Gabe!” I call, spying his blond head weaving through the crowd. His shoulders stiffen as he attempts to ignore me, so I pick up my pace, shoving through the throng. “Gabriel, please! Stop.”
He comes to a halt, spinning around to face me. People surround us on all sides, and I’d prefer we didn’t have this conversation here in the open. I jerk my chin, asking him to join me inside a busy coffee shop, where we find a secluded corner table.
After ordering a round of drinks from the human server, I get to the point.
“Don’t fuck with me. Are you going to tell him we’re here?”
Atlas has been turning over Ouranos searching for Lor, but I’m counting on the fact that he hasn’t yet considered she’s in the last place he’d think to look. If Gabriel discloses our presence, our window of opportunity erodes away to nothing.
Atlas will eventually become aware of us, and I’m not foolish enough to think we can remain here undetected forever. Still, I’m hoping we’ll have accomplished everything we need to by then.
“You heard me. I told Lor I haven’t decided yet.”
“But what does that mean? Do you have to tell him?”
Gabriel blinks, studying me, while the server returns with our drinks before scurrying off. He picks up his spoon and stirs his coffee, avoiding the full force of my scrutiny.
“Gabriel. Do you have to tell him? Should we run?”
His spoon clinks on the walls of his mug, but eventually, he peers up, a flicker darkening his expression.
“He told me to find her and bring her to him.”
He pauses on a sharp breath, and my shoulders tighten across my back. It’s as I feared. He doesn’t have a choice. I move to stand, prepared to give the order to pack up because we’re leaving immediately. We’ll have to figure out a new plan. “But—” Gabriel says, placing a hand on my forearm and stilling me. “I didn’t find her. She found me.”
A heartbeat passes before his meaning settles between us, and I sink back into my seat, giving him a quizzical look. “How much does your king know about these loopholes of yours?”
“Enough,” Gabriel says, his expression grim. “But Atlas doesn’t concern himself with details he’d rather not consider.”
Gabriel lifts his mug to his lips, blowing on the surface as his gaze slides to me. He doesn’t have to finish the rest of his thought—he uses that fact to his advantage whenever possible.
“So you’ll stay quiet then.”
“For now,” he says. “But I can stretch the limits of my leash for only so long. He doesn’t have to give a direct order for me to believe you might be acting against his best interests, which is at the heart of everything I’m compelled to protect.”
I nod, understanding his position. I know he has no choice. “What if I swore to you that nothing we’re doing here is intended to hurt Atlas? This has nothing to do with him. Or Aphelion, for that matter.”
“That helps,” he says. “I might be able to give you more time then.”
I blow out a breath of relief. “Thank you.”
“Consider it a debt repaid. After all this time.” He gives me a significant look, and I nod again. “Besides, I’m not entirely sure whose side I’m on at the present moment.”
Those words slip out like he hadn’t really meant to give them voice as he stares out the window. We both fall into silence, enveloped by the chatter of the afternoon patrons.
A rumble vibrates under my feet as the ground shifts. Gabriel and I cling to the table, protecting our coffee cups from bouncing off the surface as the café falls silent, bracing against the quake. It lasts only a few seconds before it stops, everyone pausing in surprise for several beats before the conversation rushes back.
Reports have been filing in through Aphelion and from the rest of Ouranos of strange happenings just like this. The earth trembling, and stars falling from the sky. Of diminishing resources in the lakes and rivers and forests. Of unusual temperatures. Snow falling in deserts and avalanches roaring through mountains. It’s all become a source of gossip and speculation.
It reminds me a bit of the unrest we experienced after we lost our magic all those years ago and similar things occurred. But our magic seems fine, and I’m sure it’s just the cycle of nature and its quirks, though it also feels like it’s come on rather suddenly.
“Why are you here with Lor?” Gabriel asks after another moment.
“You know I can’t tell you that.”
“Yeah. I figured,” he says, picking up his coffee and taking a sip. “You were a bit weird about her, though. What was that about?”
“Weird?” I ask, attempting to keep my tone innocent, knowing that when it comes to Lor, I’m about as opaque as glass.
Gabriel sits back and eyes me up and down, seeing right through my transparent brick wall. He’s always been an observant asshole. It’s what makes him such a good soldier.
“Oh fuck. Don’t tell me that you two are…” He curls his lip.
“Watch it,” I snarl, and Gabriel’s eyebrows shoot up.
“Don’t you find her a little feral? Abrasive? Mouthy?”
I lean back, crossing my legs, offering him a lazy grin.
She’s feral and difficult and makes me want to tear my hair out sometimes. All the time. It’s what makes me so insane.
“Yes. Very.”
Gabriel snorts. “It’s your funeral, I guess.”
“I guess.”
I look around the café, noting the steady stream of Fae and humans coming in and out.
Gabriel is watching me, his keen eyes missing nothing.
“What?” I ask.
“You’re hiding something. What is she to you? Really.”
He narrows his gaze, once again noticing details anyone else might miss.
“I’m not sure yet.”
“What do you mean by yet?”
I shrug my shoulders, suddenly unable to meet his inquisitive gaze. I’ve suspected the truth for a while, but for some reason, it’s hard to say out loud. I’ve never in all my years heard of it happening. And what are the odds that this woman my father stole, tortured, and tossed into Nostraza is my mate?
They’re basically zero. And yet, I can’t ignore the way she makes me feel.
The word has been cycling through my thoughts for weeks, twisting me up until I barely recognize myself. But in the best possible way.
Gabriel doesn’t press further, and I’d rather not tell him anyway. As much as I do trust him not to screw me over intentionally, I must always consider that what he does isn’t always his choice.
“What happened there in the square? With the low fae,” I ask, deliberately changing the subject.
Gabriel blows out a sigh as he takes the hint. “Things are getting worse. They keep pushing, and the harder they do, the more Atlas digs in his heels. Erevan keeps trying to get him to listen, but Atlas won’t hear it.”
“What is his problem?” I ask, having never really understood why Atlas treats them with so little humanity. At least with my father, his disdain for the low fae has nothing to do with how he actually feels but rather what he can use them for. He simply doesn’t see them as anything but tools to achieve his own ends.
Gabriel shakes his head. “I don’t know, but it’s all going to blow up soon. I’m worried about what will happen if something doesn’t change.”
“Have you considered getting them out?” I ask.
“Of course I have. But where would they go?”
“To the other realms.”
“This is their home, and they don’t want to leave. Besides, too many of them are afraid to wander the countryside…”
He drops off, leaving the thought unfinished.
“Because of my father.”
He nods. “While this situation isn’t ideal, it’s better than being enslaved and forced to work to death in the mines, or so I have to believe.”
I grind my teeth, thinking of the shame my father brings to The Aurora. We’re an embarrassment. Monsters living under the guise of gilded royalty.
“Anyway,” Gabriel says, polishing off his coffee and standing up. “I should get going.”
“You won’t say anything,” I confirm again, and he nods.
“For now.”
“Thank you.” I hold out my hand. We grip forearms before he releases me and stalks out, his wings pulled tight to ease his way through the stream of bodies. Leaving my coffee untouched, I toss a few coins on the table and exit the café, heading towards our home base.
Entering through the back, I find the main floor vacant.
As I head towards the stairs, my stomach lurches, knowing Lor is nearby. I can’t help the way I’m drawn towards her. I’ve been trying to give her the space that she needs, but fuck, it’s so hard. Everything about her calls to me. Pulls me in.
Does she understand what a mate bond means? She grew up sheltered from the ways of our people, and I suspect she has no idea. She must feel what I feel, though. She has to know it means something, if only she’d stop fighting it so hard.
At the top of the stairs, I find her door open. She’s sitting on her bed with her legs crossed and eyes closed, wearing the Heart Crown. She keeps trying to speak to it, hoping it will wake up and release her magic.
I watch as her eyebrows draw together, taking this rare opportunity to just study her. She has no idea how beautiful she is. How I feel so lost when I’m around her. I scared her that night inside Heart when I pushed her too hard. I need to figure out how to get her to open up again.
The tension in her shoulders and neck tells me the Crown remains frustratingly quiet.
“You can come in,” she says, her eyes still closed. Of course she must feel my presence, just like I’m constantly aware of hers.
“No luck?” I ask as her lids slide open, and I stop to lean against the bedpost. Her gaze drifts over me, and I feel it like a touch against my skin. She quickly looks away and pulls the Crown off her head, tossing it onto the bedspread.
“Nothing.”
I give her a chance to collect her thoughts.
“You talked to Gabriel?” she asks.
“I did.”
“And he’ll keep quiet for now? He can?”
“He’ll do what he’s able to to give us time.”
She nods with a dip of her chin. “Why wouldn’t he tell Atlas right away?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure. I get the sense that something is brewing between them. Besides, he owes me one.”
She narrows her gaze. “How does he owe you?”
“Can I try again?” I ask, deflecting her question. That story is Gabriel’s to tell. “With my magic? It’s been a while.”
She hesitates, and I think I understand why. It’s hard not to recall the last time I funneled my magic into her, when the tension between us became too much. Every thought and sensation sharpened to excruciating clarity. It was too intimate and too raw, but it might be the only way through.
“Sure,” she finally says. “Thank you.”
She’s different since I took her to Heart. Or rather, not different, but there’s something new underneath her confidence and impulsiveness. Something layered with that anger and bravado that’s often her own worst enemy. It’s a thread of vulnerability I don’t think she’s ever allowed herself to fully experience.
She was obviously shaken by that experience in Heart with my father when he nearly captured us both, and it’s changed parts of her. There are so many layers to this woman that I want to peel apart and understand.
As I settle on the edge of the bed, I brace myself for her to shuffle away. Thankfully, she stays where she is, so close but so far, which is a relief because I’m pretty sure that would rip out my heart. Again.
Our gazes meet, and every nerve in my body ignites with fire. My hands fist into the blanket, resisting the urge to reach out. My magic is going wild—more and more so with each passing day—like someone is hurling a steel ball at bricks lining my limbs. Ever since she put the hammer down on anything physical between us, my magic has been feral. I don’t know what happens to those who deny the mate bond—I wonder if it’s ever happened. I have to give her the space and the time she needs. But how is this not driving her insane?
“I’m ready,” she says, her throat bobbing on a hard swallow, interrupting my spiraling thoughts. “If you are.”
I nod and scoot further on the bed, crossing my legs to face her. With my wrists lying lightly on my knees, I send out branches of my magic—violet and emerald and fuchsia. I think of our last night in the Keep, when I’d intended to show her all the more… satisfying ways I can use it. When I’d planned to make her moan and writhe with pleasure.
As if reading my thoughts, the blaze in her eyes meets mine, and the air grows thick enough to slice like cold butter.
Patience, I remind myself again. I’ve lived for nearly three centuries and learned to cultivate it with some measure of skill and proficiency, but sometimes my emotions get the best of me. In that way, we’re a lot alike. Ruled by the fire in our blood.
My magic wraps around her, twisting up her limbs, soothed by her touch. This is what it wants. This is what it craves. What I crave so fucking much. I spread my fist open and let it melt into her skin, where it strokes the sparking lines of her magic. It’s different from mine. Less soft curves and tender caresses and more like the edges of cut crystal and the honed tip of a blade.
The tales of Heart’s crimson lightning magic are the fodder of legends recited around campfires at night. When I saw her use it, I understood all the stories were true. It was awesome to behold, and I suspect it’s only a fraction of what she’s capable of.
Her magic is there. I feel it respond to my light.
As I coil through her limbs, she lets out a small gasp, her perfect pink lips opening. I know she has to feel this. She’s practically vibrating.
Ignoring the desire to detour south through her abdomen and between her thighs, I direct my magic into the center of her chest, where that locked door sits. It’s as tight as ever, like it’s been welded over and nailed shut. I don’t know what miracle allowed her to access it when she saved me from my father on the top of the Heart Castle, but that means she can get to it. It’s just under the surface, waiting to be unleashed.
For several long minutes, neither of us speaks as our breaths grow heavier and the back of my neck flushes. Her cheeks turn pink, and she shifts on the bed like she can’t find a comfortable position. This is driving me mad. It’s not sex, but it feels almost like it. Waves of longing spread through my chest and down through my stomach until my cock stirs to life. I should stop this, but I’m helpless to resist. It’s the closest she’ll allow me right now, and it’s evident from the sparkle in her eyes and the flush of her skin that she’s having a similar reaction to my presence.
“Do you want me to stop?” I ask, cursing myself for uttering those words. I don’t want to stop, but I also don’t want to frighten her. I made that mistake once, and I’ve vowed never to do it again.
“No,” she whispers, and the sound is so raw that my heart withers in my chest. “Keep going.”
I don’t understand what message she’s sending by allowing me to continue, but I don’t argue either. I keep digging away, prying at that locked space in her heart, but nothing I do makes any difference. She shakes her head, her shoulders sloping in defeat.
“It’s no use.”
I hate that I’ve failed her again. I wish I were stronger. I wish I could undo this. I wish I could go back in time and stop everything my father did.
“I’m sorry,” I say, and I don’t know exactly what I’m apologizing for, but I’m sorry for so many things. Some that are out of my control, but still, I want to be the one who fixes everything.
I slide my magic away from her heart, directing it through her limbs, where it twines with the echoes of her power. It feels like a dance, one of the most intimate sort.
Suddenly, it all coalesces into a wave that threatens to drown me. It’s too hard to pretend I don’t feel this. Too hard to pretend I don’t want her with every fiber of my fucking soul.
I yank on my threads, pulling them back into me abruptly, with such force that we both grunt. Then without another word, I scoot off the bed and stride for the door, desperate to escape.
“Nadir,” she calls after me. “I’m sorry.”
I nearly miss a step at the broken sound in her voice, but I continue walking.
I need air. I need to breathe.
I don’t respond as I keep my gaze averted and leave the room.