20. Abomination #2
Felix scowled. “Not self-defence? Are you out of your mind? If it weren’t for Isolde, we’d all be dead right now. The fuckers swarmed us. On your watch, I might add. How did that even happen?” He looked pointedly at Luella .
She bristled, throwing up her hands. “I’m not some kind of all-seeing eye, Felix!”
“Be that as it may,” Garren interrupted, choosing his words carefully. “This is not something we should encourage. You saw what happened. This can only lead to… to destruction. If she develops a… a taste for it.”
“A taste for it?” Felix spun to Garren with an expression of disbelief. “If she develops a taste for throwing boulders at people who want her dead, I will be the first to cheer her on. It will make our job of getting her to the Nexus alive a whole lot easier, too!”
Luella’s glare was sharp enough to cut. “Do you ever stop to consider the bigger picture? Or is that too much for you? Garren’s point – which you’re clearly too thick-headed to grasp – is that we don’t know what this will do to her.
Have you wielded magic? No? How can you possibly be sure it won’t affect her?
Change her? Send her into some kind of… power-hungry descent? ”
Felix opened his mouth to respond but faltered. She had a point, however loathe he was to admit it. He stewed in silence, frustration and unease swirling in his chest. Could it do that? Drive her mad? Would he have to follow through with her father’s instructions if that happened?
If it comes to that… If there is no other way…
“At the end of the day,” he said eventually, his voice quieter, “it’s not up to us. It’s up to her.”
He turned around and left, heading in the direction Isolde had gone. He found her by the horses, absentmindedly stroking Shadow’s neck.
“Good thing we kept them away from the fire tonight,” he said, nodding towards the animals, immediately feeling foolish for trying to make small talk. She nodded but said nothing. When she turned to face him, Felix caught the faint echo of that blue glow in her eyes.
“Are you scared of me, Felix?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Should I be?”
“The others are.”
He scoffed. “They are not scared of you. They are scared for you.”
“And you are not? ”
He tilted his head, considering her. Beautiful, deadly.
So different from the timid young lady he had met on midsummer night.
The wind shifted, carrying the scent of blood and earth.
“No, Isa. I’m not scared of you, or for you,” he said finally.
“You’re not a little girl sticking her hand in the fire anymore. ”
That earned him a smile, warm and genuine.
“I’m still going to be wary around you and boulders, though,” he added casually.
Isolde hid her face in the horse’s mane and laughed. “How you can always find a way to turn everything into a joke is beyond me.”
“Just one of my many talents.”
“Well. Tonight it is deeply appreciated.” She exhaled a long, shaky breath, her hand pausing on Shadow’s neck. He waited.
It started to rain. Softly at first, then faster, pelting down on them. The scent of damp soil and lightning filled the air.
Isolde stepped back from Shadow and tilted her head to the sky, her eyes closing as drops slid down her face.
She extended a hand toward him, palm up.
He hesitated, then took it. Her fingers curled around his, and she pulled him closer.
He came to stand behind her, close enough to feel the warmth of her body, his heart hammering in his ears.
He winced when she drew his arm around her, and she spun, startled.
“I almost forgot! Let me see that.”
“It’s nothing,” he muttered, trying to pull away. “I’ve had worse.”
“Don’t be so stubborn,” she said, her fingers dancing across his side, looking for the injury.
Felix tried to fend her off, to protest, but froze when she laid her palm lightly against his ribs.
The moment her magic flared against his skin, he forgot everything else.
It wasn’t cold, like he’d expected, but more of a deep hum, a vibration that made gooseflesh erupt all over his body.
The sting in his side gradually faded, until it was simply gone. No lingering soreness, nothing.
“Thank you,” he said, a little hoarsely .
Isolde shook her head with a small smile, then without preamble rested her head on his shoulder. She pulled on his hand, guiding it around her waist, and he cautiously pulled her flush against him. Her hair smelled like smoke.
She tilted her head up at him. Felix traced the curve of her cheek with his eyes, the wet trails left by the rain, the softness of her lips.
He became very suddenly, very acutely aware of just how badly he wanted to kiss her.
To brush the hair away from her neck and trace that tantalising blue line there with his mouth. To lose himself in the storm with her.
“Why don’t I feel bad?” Isolde’s voice sounded small, fragile, jarring him out of his thoughts.
Felix exhaled slowly, loosening his grip on her, and banished the slew of elaborate fantasies he was conjuring up from his mind. Instead, he gently put his hands on her shoulders.
“You have nothing to feel bad about.”
“I wanted to do it. To hurt them. To… to kill them.” The last words were barely a whisper.
“You were protecting yourself, Isa. And us. Hells, you saved my life.”
She stared up at him. “I… I did.”
“You’ve always been told where to go, what to do, what to say. And now you have all this powerful, crazy magic at your fingertips, and you think the way you used it tonight means you’re turning into some kind of monster, that you should feel bad?”
Isolde opened her mouth, then shut it again.
“You didn’t enjoy hurting them,” Felix went on. “You liked being able to do something, to make a difference. That’s not the same thing.”
She blinked rapidly, her bottom lip quivering. Felix said nothing else; he just reached out and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest. She sagged into him with a long sigh, clutching at him like she was not planning on ever letting go.
“Felix?”
“Hm?”
“Thank you.”