36. Burning Skin
Burning Skin
Dawn crept across Draknavor. I stood at the edge of the black sand, watching as the last of the stars faded. A breeze swept in from the obsidian sea, carrying the tang of salt.
My muscles still ached from yesterday's expeditions—first to Memorica, and then to the ruins.
I rolled my shoulders, trying to ease the tension that had settled there.
Sleep had eluded me most of the night, my mind too full of terrible possibilities.
Of Thatcher, transformed into a weapon. Of his power being used to reshape reality.
And of the way Xül had looked at me in those ruins, his expression unreadable as I'd defended my brother, as I'd stepped back from the edge of confession.
"You're early, starling."
The voice slid down my spine. I didn't turn.
"Couldn't sleep."
Xül moved to stand beside me.
"I imagine not," he said, studying me with those mismatched eyes. “Don’t think our brief excursion to the ruins somehow made me forget how you performed in the trial. ”
"I got the keys, didn't I?" I turned to face him fully, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Yes," he agreed, the corner of his mouth lifting. "Though if you're going to be foolish enough to get rid of your self-preservation again, your powers better be strong enough to get you through it. That contestant nearly had you. If Marx hadn't shown up..." He clicked his tongue.
"I'd still be there in the depths," I finished for him, unable to deny the truth of it. The memory sent a shiver through me. "Lucky for me, she did."
"Luck," Xül scoffed. "Luck is for those without skill or power. And you harbor both of those, so you shouldn’t need luck."
I raised an eyebrow. "Is that concern I hear, Warden?"
Xül sighed, breaking the tension. "You have all the potential in the world, Thais, but you still haven’t reached your peak."
"Then teach me," I demanded, turning back to him. "That's what you're supposed to be doing, isn't it? Not lecturing me about my near-death experiences."
His eyes darkened as he studied my face, a slow smile spreading across his lips. "Very well. Let's see if we can channel some of that restless energy into something productive."
“Let’s.”
Xül stepped back, gesturing toward the sky. "Show me your sword, starling."
I raised my hand, reaching for the fading stars above. The familiar thread of power hummed through me as I connected to the distant celestial bodies. One star pulsed in response, its light intensifying as I pulled.
The starlight streamed down, hot and bright, coalescing in my palm before extending outward. The sword formed—a blade of pure, brilliant light.
Xül circled me. I felt his gaze like an iron dragging across my skin.
"Good," he said, the word dropping between us.
"High praise indeed," I muttered .
He came to stand before me, arms crossed. The fabric of his shirt strained against his shoulders as he moved. I dragged my eyes back to his face.
"You've mastered the basics," he said. "Drawing a single star, forming a weapon."
"I sense a 'but' coming."
His smile widened. "But it's time you learned to do more."
"Where are your souls, Xül?" I braced myself for battle, for the faceless damned he'd conjured before. “Let’s get on with it.”
But Xül merely shook his head. "It's time to grow." He gestured to my sword, then to my empty hand. "Pull down another star. Form a second weapon."
I blinked. "Two at once?"
"Don’t think you could handle it?" His eyes flashed wickedly, and I realized we weren’t talking about swords anymore.
“Hilarious.” I shot back.
He gave me a knowing look. “Do as I said.”
I turned my attention skyward again, raising my arms. The sword of starlight hummed in my right hand as I reached with my left, searching for another connection.
A distant star pulsed in response. I pulled, feeling its light begin to stream toward me—a silver thread stretching across the crimson sky. For a heartbeat, it seemed to be working. Then the light wavered and dissolved among the morning clouds, like smoke carried away on a breeze.
"Shit," I hissed through clenched teeth.
Xül clicked his tongue. "Try again."
I did, muscles tightening with the effort. Another star responded, but again, the light dissipated before fully forming.
"Why isn't it working?" Frustration clawed up my throat.
Xül moved closer, his head tilted in consideration. "Why do you think?"
I glared at him. "If I knew, I wouldn't be asking you. "
"Think, starling. When have you successfully pulled multiple stars before?"
I opened my mouth to say I’d never tried, but stopped as memory crashed into me. That evening so many weeks ago, when I'd flooded the arena with starlight, turning night into day.
"During the Proving," I admitted reluctantly. "When I was trying to save Thatcher."
Satisfaction flared in Xül’s eyes. "And what was different then?"
I frowned, trying to put it into words. "I was desperate. I wasn't thinking about it—I just needed the power."
"Precisely." Xül began to circle me again, his voice dropping lower. "You've spent your entire life containing your power. Keeping it hidden. Keeping it leashed."
My throat tightened. "I had to."
"And now that control is holding you back." He stopped behind me, close enough that the hairs on my neck rose in response. His breath ghosted over my skin when he spoke. "You need to let go, starling."
I turned to face him, refusing to let him intimidate me. "Easy for you to say. You've never had to hide what you are."
His eyes darkened as he studied my face. "No, but once again, I’m not the one competing for my life. If you’re going to survive—to withstand the scrutiny of Olinthar’s forge, you’re going to have to find some middle ground. You cannot keep suppressing your power."
“I’m not doing it on purpose,” I said. “I simply don’t know how.”
“Then I suppose we’ll need to create a situation in which you must.”
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," he said, voice dropping to almost a whisper, "that you’ve only given up that perfect control under a few circumstances. At the Proving, yes. Out of desperation and fear. But the other times you’ve surrendered have been much more fun, wouldn’t you agree?"
Heat hit like a punch to the gut when his eyes dipped to my mouth. Something wild and molten twisted to life inside me .
"I suppose it’s time for me to deliver on my threats." His voice was rough.
I couldn't look away. Couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.
"Do I have permission, starling?" He leaned closer, his scent filling my lungs. "Can I make you burn?"
Gods help me, I nodded.
He smiled and began walking toward me with slow, deliberate steps. Instinct had me backing away, my heart slamming against my ribs so hard I was sure he could hear it. One step, then another, until my back hit something solid—the rock he always leaned against.
Before I could move, Xül lifted a hand. I gasped as fingers emerged from the stone behind me, wrapping around my wrists and ankles. Another ghostly hand tangled in my hair, pulling my head back.
"What are you doing?" The words came out breathless.
Xül's eyes raked over me. "Magnificent," he said, voice like gravel. "The restraints suit you."
It flooded me then—heat, hunger, something dangerously close to surrender.
"You like being held down, don't you?" Xül murmured, taking a step closer.
Above us, the stars pulsed brighter, responding to the surge of whatever betrayal was coursing through me.
"You don't need that control, starling," Xül continued, his voice a dark caress. "Give it to me."
Then a crack—that wall I'd built around my power, around my desires. The stars burned against my skin, calling to me, begging to be used. Every nerve ending in my body was alight, aware of him, of the diminishing space between us.
Xül moved closer still, until his body pressed against mine, pinning me to the stone. He was fire wrapped in flesh. The full weight of his presence—the dominance and overbearing aura of a fully ascended Aesymar holding me in place was maddening. Absolutely fucking maddening .
And gods help me, it felt like freedom.
One hand came up to grip my waist, fingers digging into my flesh through my thin shirt.
"You feel that?" he whispered, his lips a breath away from my ear. "Cling to it. Then lose yourself in it."
His thumb traced a slow path along my jawline. The simple touch sent fire racing across my skin, and my breath hitched. The corner of his mouth lifted in satisfaction.
"I’m curious," he murmured, his voice dropping to a register that vibrated through me. His fingers slid into my hair, tightening just enough to send shivers cascading down my spine. "What sounds you'd make if I touched you... here."
His other hand drifted down my side, tracing the curve of my waist, my hip, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. I bit my lip to keep from whimpering, but he noticed—of course he noticed—and his eyes darkened further.
"Don't hold back," he commanded, his face lowering until our noses almost touched. His breath mingled with mine. "I want to hear you."
The hand in my hair tugged gently, exposing my throat. The ghost fingers holding my wrists tightened in response, and a moan escaped me.
"There it is," he growled, his lips now hovering just above mine. The anticipation was unbearable, a physical ache that spread through my entire body. "Give me more."
His thumb brushed across my lower lip, catching on the sensitive flesh. My eyes fluttered closed at the sensation, my lips parting involuntarily.
"Look at me, starling," he demanded.
I forced my eyes open to find his gaze burning into mine—gold and black, night and day, fixed on me. The hand at my hip slid to the small of my back, pressing me closer. Every point where our bodies touched was a brand on my skin .
"I can feel your power," he whispered against my lips, not quite touching.