19. Kyros
Chapter nineteen
Kyros
All day, I have been watching her fight.
She no doubt has pushed her body to its limits, but it was not only her body she was battling.
I watched her struggle with herself mentally too.
She was taught her entire life to hold things in.
To shove it down. Conceal her emotions, her feelings, anything that was deemed weak by her father.
So many challenges from my own upbringing mirror hers, and it is directly related to that bastard’s influence on our lives.
Even after she decided to train to fight, she continued to struggle with her decision because it was hers to make and she had always been taught not to trust the one person she should trust before all else— herself.
I wasn’t lying to her when I said I saw everything hiding in her eyes.
She glared at me with rage that simmered in her gaze before the portal opened, but it wasn’t rage I saw as I dove after her.
Before we were both swallowed by the magick that transported us where we now are.
The look in her eyes was undiluted fear of what she never knew about herself.
I feel that fear now, sitting in my chest and blooming like a deadly flower.
Having no access to my magick, no way to portal us back, and no idea how this could be…
I said I would protect her, but how can I protect her when I feel as though I am constantly one step behind?
My jaw creaks with how tightly I clench my teeth.
Even though we lay in an unassuming bed of tall grass with nothing but the green spears coming up around us and the starless night sky above, I can tell that it’s the Damalis Tarn that Astraea has portaled us to.
A slight breeze works its way through the towering foliage, and I get a glimpse of the very cliff I took her to not long ago, barely visible peeking out beyond the nest we have huddled into.
A shiver racks her body as she lays on my chest, and I wrap my arms more snugly around her to ward off the chill.
It’s been long, strenuous days after grueling, emotional nights ever since the Shula Morana—even before that if I’m being honest. And it seems that is not going to be changing anytime soon, especially now.
Though the night is cooler, even with summer fast approaching, the high grass gives us a sort of protection we wouldn't otherwise have.
It nestles around us and stows us away from the world even just for the night.
I'm grateful for this sliver of peace the gods seem to have gifted us.
Using the little light the cloudy night provides, I trace the barely visible features of Astraea's face with my eyes. The way her eyelashes fan out over her cheek in sleep. The dip of her nose and the perfect pout of her lips. Gingerly, I run the tips of my fingers along the soft skin of her face, brushing away the hair that found its way across her brow. I continue the path down her neck and over her shoulder, where her skin is now newly marked by swirling tattoos much like my own. The magickal markings seem to vibrate as I run my fingers over them. The feeling causes a tingle to form at my fingertips with every pass they make, and my mind repeats the things she said to me before she fell asleep in my arms. It remains heartbreaking. And yet, it only makes me that much more enamored by her. I can’t fathom how a woman so soft and compassionate survived a life with a monster such as Connard as a father.
How he managed to harden her is a crime in itself.
She wears the scars of his torment, and even though they mar her body, her soul is like the undying fire of Runerth, burning brighter than even the sun.
My Shula. Another reminder that she is everything I’m not.
I’ve spent many hours thinking about that night in the dunes.
I knew I had to get Astraea out of there.
She is my twin flame, and everything that was happening was because people in power want something from her.
I should have listened to my instincts before it was almost too late.
The way the night sky seemed to brighten into a blaze of fire the moment I sent us careening into the portal…
The heat of her body was scorching when I wrapped my arms around her, though I came away without burns.
The night appeared to turn to day for a brief flash before I stole her away from it all.
I never even considered that it could have been Astraea who caused that flash of blazing flame.
I never thought it possible that she may have had the sort of magick men would want to weaponize.
But she can render portals, and I saw the wisps of flame at her fingers… What other abilities does she have?
My hand settles on my abdomen, my eyes finally heavy enough to close, but my mind stays transfixed on the feel of her body pressed to mine. As important as it is to know what sort of magick she has, it’s a question for tomorrow.
My dry eyes scrape open when I hear Astraea let out a whimper.
She turns over in her sleep and curls up to my body.
I wish I could stay here forever with her nestled into the crook of my neck.
My arms wrap more securely around her on instinct.
Her warmth seeps through the pad of my hand as it slips past the tunic she wears and up her spine in a comforting caress.
“I’ve got you, Shula.” I whisper into her hair, threading the fingers of my other hand through its thick length. If only I could hold onto those words, but they feel like a lie if she doesn't want me in return.
“Kyros?” She says just as groggily as I feel. It looks like we were asleep for several hours, judging by the lightening of the sky. The pitch-black cloudy expanse breaks into a shadowed cotton field of gray and a blazing brilliant orange where the sun is starting to crest the horizon.
“I’m here.” I tell her, hoping it's a reassurance, letting her know that she's not alone.
Then those piercing blue eyes flutter open, and just as they have since the beginning, they take my breath away.
The look on her face is everything I feel.
The longing I seem to be drowning in, even as she lies in my arms. As the morning sky turns candy-colored in the distance, it illuminates her in an otherworldly glow, only making her blue eyes that much more radiant. She is captivating—devastating.
“My dreams are changing,” she whispers. Mine are too.
The thought comes immediately, though I don’t voice as much.
Instead, I try not to drown in her ocean eyes.
I'm sure we’re not thinking of the same things.
Swallowing hard, she looks around where we lay.
I pull at her body, as though I could bring her into my skin.
Her palm slides up my chest, resting just above my heart, and I bring mine up to wrap around hers. Anchoring it there—where it belongs.
“Do you want to tell me about it, your dream?” I ask, and she quietly laces her fingers through mine as her eyes fall closed and her head rests at the crook of my neck. The gesture is so small, seemingly insignificant, but in silence, actions can be louder than what voicing words could ever do.
We stay like that for a long while. I don't think she’s going to say any more about her dreams, and my eyes begin to drift closed too. I continue to run my fingers tenderly up and down her spine, listening to the sounds of morning around the tarn that bring the wilderness to life.
“The nightmare—” she says. Her voice is so small when she does decide to speak, and I question if I even heard it at all.
She shakes her head before clearing her throat and continuing with more courage.
“It doesn't have the same effect on me that it once had. I’ve felt a shift within the dream. I’ve had the same one for so long…
as long as I can remember, really. I'm noticing things now though—differences that are making me question if it is really a nightmare at all or maybe just a memory.” Her brows stitch together as she thinks on it.
I stay quiet, waiting for her to continue when she's ready, though I analyze every breath and movement she makes.
Time feels as though we are stuck in a fever dream.
So suddenly there is nothing to focus on other than each other.
I hadn't realized until now that I would love to do this forever––to simply have her laying in my arms with no other concern.
Despite this moment of safety and stillness, I know that things are still moving.
That we are no closer to answers than we were before, but it feels right to just be in this moment with her, to feel close to my twin flame.
Like perhaps we aren't destined for ruin, and we could live our lives as though they only belonged to us.
“It’s like before, I was just seeing everything through a clouded window. An outsider looking in, but now the fog is clearing. Or maybe I'm on the other side of the glass altogether. I don't know how to explain it.” She shakes her head again. Confusion and vexation paint her features.
“And what is it that you are seeing?” I ask, though as I do, I think about the time I used my magick to enter her nightmare and wonder if that is the very one that has repeated so often throughout her life.
She presses her lips together in a tight line, and I watch as her face morphs into something harder.
“I don’t know yet, but I plan to figure it out.
I have too many questions about my life.
Someone should not have so many questions about their very existence.
” She sits up, removing herself from my hold, and fixes her tunic.
I know the feeling she speaks of. “Everything horrible that has happened since as far back as I can remember is caused by only one man.” Her eyes flick to meet mine, and I fear she’s thinking about the hurt I’ve caused her too.
Deciding that perhaps there have been two men now who have caused irrevocable damage to her soul.
I sit up, draping my arms between my legs as I take a deep breath and cowardly train my gaze on the ground between my legs.
“I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused you, Astraea.
” I force my eyes up to meet hers. I think it’s about time I admit my wrongdoings.
“I told you that I wouldn’t let another person hurt you, and yet I kept the truth from you.
I let you find out who I really was in a way that was cruel, and—well, it wasn’t my intention.
I should have been honest and forthcoming from the start.
” Tears well in her eyes. They fight against the line of her lashes, but she lifts her chin, even as it dimples with emotion.
She doesn’t deserve to be tied to a man like me.
Someone so scorned by the world—her father.
Everything I ever did in life was to one day strip everything she’s ever known from her father.
And her too by association. My plan was retribution, but I didn’t anticipate her upturning everything.
It makes me wonder if there is a way of restitution for us both.
“I don’t know how to navigate all of this.
I’ve never considered a future like this for myself.
” I say, longing for a future with her at all.
“I’ve never considered much of a future for myself, ever.” She derides, turning away with that sadness brimming in her eyes. It’s like a dagger through my heart, seeing that pain in her begging to escape. She stands and walks away slowly, parting the grasses and walking toward the water’s edge.
“Maybe we’ve thought so little of the future for ourselves because we didn't have each other yet,” I say as I follow, slowly standing and stopping just short of touching her.
I can feel her tension, but she does not step away from me.
Instead, she considers me before she looks out over the crystalline water, and I watch the side of her face as she closes her eyes and allows a minuscule amount of the emotion she's been trying desperately to contain to escape.
I lift my hand, placing it on the outside of her shoulder. “But we do now—we have each other.”
Her eyes open as she turns slowly in my arms. Tentatively, I let my fingers trail along the exposed skin on her arm, around to her back, and then bring my other hand up to cup her face.
My eyes bounce between hers, silently begging for her to tell me that she understands.
I am begging her to accept the apology I'm giving, even as I know the words are not nearly enough. I fight to swallow as my thundering heart tries to climb up my dry throat. I’ve never felt so vulnerable.
She holds my soul in her hands, and what she does with it will forever determine the route it travels.
She could deny everything and curse the world to endure my heartache or accept a future neither of us had ever considered for ourselves.
Her eyes never leave mine. Even as her hand comes up to grip my arm and I gently hold her face, she continues to hold my gaze.
She pulls lightly, and I let her move my hand.
She drags it lower so my palm lays flat on her chest. The rhythm of her heart is a manic pulse that mirrors my own.
Though her brows pull together, the corner of her mouth tugs up in a sad sort of smile.
Her other slender hand reaches out and presses to the center of my chest, where she undoubtedly feels the same chaotic beat. She looks down at where her hand rests, and an ache unlike anything I have ever felt builds under her palm.
“Every time I’m around you, I feel this—” She rubs her hand in a small circle and presses my hand more firmly over her heart, and then her head tilts back to meet my eyes.
“As much as I’ve tried to ignore it… tried to convince myself it’s something else, I know I am only delaying the inevitable.
” I'm drawn in by her beauty; leaning forward, my heart pounds even harder. She lets out a breathy laugh, and everything in me feels as though it's coiling tight as I await her next words. Our lips are so close. Every breath mingles in the close proximity. I could close the distance, but I want to hear her say the words I’ve hoped to hear since the moment I claimed her as mine, and she takes my breath and inhibitions as she mutters the words that seal my fate. “I won’t avoid the flame anymore, Kyros. I’d rather burn. ”
There is nothing I won’t do to ensure we both burn.