Chapter Fifteen #3
It was not an orgasm.
???
Adeline was overcome, something unfamiliar and all-encompassing exploding within her already spent body; she clutched at Kai, her fingers tangling in his chain, her other hand flying out to find purchase behind him, sliding down the cool surface of the mirror as she cried out with something that teetered between fear and awe.
Pleasure and power entwined in her chest like ancient lovers united after too many cruel lifetimes apart—then thundered through her limbs, exploding out of every pore.
She could not see. She could hear only a creaking, roaring, rush, like the blood in her veins had been replaced with a forest storm, formidable and lore-shaping, too significant to contain.
She clung to Kai desperately, her only tether in the storm that sought to spirit her away from her own earthly body.
And then, quite as abruptly as it had begun, it was over. The roaring died. Her skin prickled and stung, but a slow flood of warmth followed, soothing the ache with her every breath.
“Adeline?”
She could feel his arms tightening around her, warm and solid against the echo of that stinging rush beneath her skin. She could feel him still between her legs, inside her, part of her as much as the storm that had wracked her from the inside out.
“Adeline.”
Kai twined his fingers with hers where they rested against his chest, and she realised, with slow and sticky thoughts, that she had slumped against him.
Her forehead rested on his shoulder, both of them slick with sweat.
Her hand was still flat on the mirror, and it took her a moment to realise that she could not draw it away. Strange.
“Open your eyes for me.”
She did, with difficulty, like peeling herself from the deepest, most peaceful sleep.
Kai’s eyes were the first thing she found.
They were the brightest comfort, the green of them intense among the hazel, new leaves scattered in a sunlit clearing.
They were rounded too—worried? She tried for a reassuring smile, and felt her lips tilt lopsidedly.
She felt like she’d downed an entire jug of floral wine in one sitting.
She felt disoriented and disjointed, shattered and made whole again.
She felt … wonderful.
“Kai,” she slurred, eyes fluttering dreamily shut. “That was—”
“Adeline,” he said, gentle but firm. He cupped her face, holding her gaze to his. “I need you to sit up for me, love. I need you to take a look around. Can you manage?”
She gave a stilted shake of her head where it rested on his shoulder. She didn’t really want to move, but also—
“My hand’s stuck,” she said aloud.
Kai looked up, and she watched a frown knot his brow as he took her trapped wrist in his hand.
She’d never been one for frowny men before she’d met Kai.
Beauty was in a smile, she’d always thought; happiness was the loveliest thing in the world, the only thing one could ever want or hope for.
But Kai’s beauty was not in his happiness; not only.
It was in the depth of everything he felt.
It was in his capacity to feel. He felt so very much, always, and he was so …
so very, painfully, achingly lovely for every frown and smile and scowl and smirk and—
“You’re beautiful,” she told him firmly.
His chest heaved beneath her, and she felt more than heard the shock of incredulous laughter steal through him.
“Thank you,” he said, amusement thrumming beneath each word, before he dragged her hand down from the mirror and laid it against his shoulder, beside her head. “There, you’re free. Do you see what’s on your wrist?”
She squinted at it; it looked like a length of green twine. No—a vine?
“Is that a plant?”
“Look around,” he said again.
And slowly, pressing shaky palms to Kai’s chest, Adeline eased herself up and turned her head. Shock stiffened her limbs and cleared her senses, snatching her breath from her. It was—
It was a forest.
They were sitting in a forest. But that couldn’t be right; there was still the counter beneath her knees; the mirror still gleamed beneath a curtain of dark ivy, reflecting fragments of her own thunderstruck face back at her.
Pink flower petals had caught in the mussed peaks of Kai’s hair, their deep pink bright against his dark waves, and when Adeline tilted her head back, a hundred nycta flowers fluttered at her in a canopy over their heads.
Slowly, she returned her gaze to Kai and found him gazing at her with deep and undisguised awe.
“Did I—”
She choked on the absurdity of her unasked question, but Kai just stared steadily back at her.
“Did I do this?”
“Yes,” he said, barely above a whisper. He reached for the counter and plucked something from the soft tangle of green; a bloom with white, velvet petals, a burst of sunshine yellow at its centre.
He tucked it behind her ear, then trailed his fingers down her jaw and took her chin, tilting her face to his.
His eyes, when he locked her in his gaze, were both soft and blazing, full of awe and fierce pride.
“Adeline, you’ve Wielded magic.”