Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The moment I step outside, the wind slams into me, sending me stumbling sideways. I find my footing before Arkin grabs at me again.
Small mercies.
The light blinds me, but I keep walking, my bare feet glad for the smoothness of the tiles paving the terrace. Reflections play off the sea, tormenting my gaze but also lightening my heart.
White, blue, gray, gold.
Sea salt coats my lips, different from the salt of water magic, pure and energizing. I lick them as I keep walking among trees rooted in the pavement, savoring the zing on my tongue.
The wind whips the thin silk of my dress against my thighs, trying to trip me up.
Arkin’s footfalls behind me have gone quiet. I turn to look and find him standing at the door I went through.
He gives me a small wave, smirk firmly in place.
Frowning, I turn back around and resume walking. If he left me alone, it means Jai is nearby, as promised. Unless Arkin wants to get rid of me, and an assassin or monster is lurking beyond the trees.
There is also that to consider, since I barely know him.
The only person I can trust is myself. I’m not even sure I can trust Queen Amphitrite who sent me on this mission at this point, or my memories of the deal I struck landing me here.
The terrace feels endless and vast, the view of the sea interrupted here and there by more trees, white pavilions, and higher terraces accessed by wide stairs. A nightgold and dragonbone rail girds it to prevent anything eldritch and monstrous from climbing into the palace.
Where is he, then?
It’s curiosity, I tell myself, that’s what brought me here. Arkin’s words managed to hook me. Certain words feel like a window into a story, words like survive and return , manage and attempt…
The memory of the blood dripping from Jai’s chin may have also nudged me here, or the memory of his hand wrapped around my arm, hauling me to safety, his shadows curling around us, cradling us…
Of his dark eyes on me.
This is ridiculous. I should still be looking for the royal apartments. Instead, here I am, that strange tug back in my chest, padding down a terrace jutting over the sea.
And then I see him.
He’s sitting on a low wall, one knee drawn up, his arms laced around it, and the swirls on top of his hands seeming darker than ever. A jolt goes through me at the sight of him, and I realize it’s no use berating myself for reacting like this to the enemy.
For some reason, I just can’t help myself when it comes to him.
The wind toys with the strands of his midnight dark hair and flutters the ends of his untucked dark shirt. The blooms on his cheekbones look pitch black.
The white-and-gray darakin is flying overhead in lazy circles.
“Tru told me you’re feeling better,” he says, his voice a low rumble. Dark eyes shoot me a sideways glance, then linger. “Are you…?”
I wait for him to finish his question, but he’s only staring at me.
What? Do I have stains on my dress?
“The color suits you,” he whispers. “You look…”
Like something washed out by the sea , I think, like seaweed and dead things tangled together.
“You look beautiful,” he finishes, his voice a low breath, and unwelcome heat seeps into my cheeks.
I shift on my bare feet, suddenly unable to meet his dark gaze.
I shouldn’t care. And he’s probably mocking me. But when I manage to look at his face again, I find nothing derisive in his expression.
Turning, I sink down on the low wall beside him, looking out at the view. It’s high enough up here that the protective metal balustrade doesn’t obstruct it.
We’re quiet for a while, and for the first time since I started on this journey, it’s a voluntary silence, because this, sitting here with him, feels… calm. Peaceful.
Easy.
Just for this moment , I tell myself. A pause amidst the panic and stress. Sometimes you need that.
Not with him , the voice in my head argues. It doesn’t work like that.
But I don’t move.
The darakin screeches softly overhead, rising higher, a white speck against the metal sky.
Jai breathes out, a long exhale, and it speaks of tiredness, but perhaps also relief. His scent reaches me, smoky and with that tang of male musk that’s delicious on him. I take a surreptitious sniff. Deliciously spicy.
“You don’t smell that bad yourself,” he says, lifting a brow at my sniffing, “though… you smell like a garden today.”
A laugh bubbles out of me, and I swallow it down. I lift my arm and sniff it, and he’s right. I do smell like a garden.
… gardens of roses and gardenias, jasmine and hibiscus, rising on the slope of the hill, with the river gleaming below, a gem-like snake, covered in flashes and glints…
I shake my head to clear it of the memory.
The darakin screeches again and starts circling in a downward spiral. Jai lifts his hand as if beckoning, and it circles lower and lower, until it lands down with a small crash in front of us, leathery wings flapping, claws screeching on the flagstones.
Good gods above. I jerk a little, but Jai leans forward, reaching out a hand.
I grab his arm—and whoa, muscles . It feels like I’m gripping the arm of a marble statue. Still, I shake him a little.
Is he insane? This creature could snap half his arm off in one bite. When he glances at me, I give him my best glare.
And… for some reason, he grins. It’s brief and sharp, but it makes his dark eyes shine, shooting gray-blue rays through the black irises.
I find myself staring.
He snaps me out of my daze when he clicks his fingers. “I’m the dragon speaker, remember? No need to worry.”
He clicks his fingers again, and the little beast produces a kind of croak, then pads closer to us, leathery wings still half-unfolded, the white tips held out for balance.
I keep a wary eye on it. Darakin may be small but they are still dragons, wild beasts, never truly tamed. Besides that, I’m still shocked to have a darakin so close to me. They always keep their distance.
The darakin growls and grumbles, sniffing at Jai’s long fingers. A forked, blue tongue darts out to lick them. I stare at its blue eyes, azure marbles that refract the light.
“See? He won’t bite you. It’s fine,” Jai says, sounding reassuring, one side of his mouth tipping up in that crooked smirk I’m becoming familiar with, and I realize I’m still gripping his forearm.
I release it as if it’s a piece of burning coal.
The darakin makes another croaking sound, sniffs Jai’s fingers one last time, and flaps its wings, getting airborne again. I watch it fly off, a low skim over the waves and then the ascent high up into the sky.
Jai leans back, straightening. His gaze shimmers. Wistfulness, I think. Longing.
Then he blinks, and it’s all gone.
It had probably never been there in the first place. I’m imagining things, and I shouldn’t linger any longer. He brings out weird feelings in me, feelings I have no use for anymore.
I’m about to get up and go back inside the palace, implement my plan, and finish what I came here to do, when he returns that intense gaze on me.
“Rae… Why can’t you speak? Were you born this way, or is it a spell?”
I shake my head.
His hand closes around my wrist, and a beat goes through me, shaking me. “Who are you? Who sent you here?”
Jerking away, I get up, but he’s still holding my wrist, his fingers like steel bands and just as cool.
Let me go. The touch, the feel of him, the strength of his hold, they send pulses through me, making me feel faint. Just let me go.
“You’re here for him, aren’t you?” He slides onto his feet in a single, elegant move, towering over me. “Don’t do it.”
I glower. What?
“Don’t go after the king,” he says, and the shock sends me back a step.
No, no… He can’t know this; he can’t be reading me this easily. I’m just a human contestant. I only survived the first trial thanks to him. He can’t know why I’m here.
Not the King’s Sword.
No! I yank my arm away, and he lets go, the dark swirls on his cheekbones standing out against a flush. I stagger two more steps back.
A shudder goes through him. His broad shoulders hunch. Gold flashes in his dark eyes.
“Have it your way, little human,” he hisses, his handsome features rearranging themselves into something unfriendly. This time, his grin is a curved blade when he says, “Enjoy the celebrations.”