Chapter 40
AMAIA
My room at the hatchery was quiet, the single candle that was flickering on the table less bright than my pendant, which I’d worked up to a solid red glow.
I was lying in bed—which I’d kept on its frame instead of dragging the bedding to the ground—staring up at the ceiling.
I sighed, letting the silence sink deep. But it was better. I realized that it wasn’t a terrible thing to be alone here, alone in one’s own mind, alone in one’s own thoughts. The silence wasn’t quite so pressing, so threatening as it had once been.
I realized now that maybe I’d been afraid of the silence because I’d been afraid of my own thoughts. I’d been afraid to confront the fact that I’d come to Karak on false pretenses. My being here had been a lie from the very beginning. To my friends and to myself.
But now…I’d done the unspeakable. Syris had forgiven me.
Moak and Ulin were coming around. Tarkosh had agreed to let me return to the hatchery at Alaryk’s request, though beyond asking me if I was recovered, we’d barely spoken.
Ever since I’d come back a couple nights ago, she’d taken to locking the incubation and the nesting rooms. She was the only one with the master key.
Not that I could blame her. Every time I heard her lock it, I felt my gut twist, mirroring the turn of her key.
I’d made a mess of everything. Nothing had gone right.
And yet…it wasn’t the end of the world. I was still here.
I was wading through the muck and aftermath of my decision, taking on the consequences in my own way.
Perhaps a part of me was punishing myself by staying away from Alaryk. The situation between us was too complicated to untangle. I didn’t trust him. He didn’t trust me. And yet he’d decided to choose me. To work through it. Together.
I hated that I was afraid to make that leap with him. Part of me was still hurt by what he’d done. The other part thought I didn’t deserve him. It was one big mess in my mind.
So what had I done?
I’d taken time. I’d returned to the hatchery, resuming my duties. Most of the time, I just ended up watching over the hatchlings in the courtyard, very aware that Tarkosh would come more frequently to check up on me.
I’d thought keeping myself busy would help me feel more normal after what had happened.
But all it’d done was highlight how other I truly was.
How quickly I’d healed, how quickly I tried to smile at people who didn’t trust me anymore, how often I looked toward the sky, hoping my family would come that day.
The other unshakeable thing I couldn’t escape was how much I missed Alaryk.
Our relationship looked other to anyone looking in. How strange it must’ve appeared, how mismatched we were.
Then again, both Alaryk and I were other too.
We’d never quite fit in anywhere. Alaryk had used his ability to earn people’s respect, people’s fear, but he would always be the Hartan that people gossiped about.
And me? I’d hidden my true self for so long that I didn’t know who I was anymore.
I’d faked smiles in Dothik so people would like me, a shapeshifter who could make friends with anyone.
I enjoyed being in people’s company, but I’d always felt like I couldn’t be myself—not truly—because of what I was hiding.
Here in the Arsadia, I’d felt free. But now? It was like I was trying to keep myself small so I wouldn’t anger anyone, tiptoeing on glass, afraid to get cut.
With Alaryk, I’d never felt that way. We’d worked. Our otherness finding another half in each other. I thought we were both surprised how easy it had been…even when he’d made me so mad I could spit.
I remembered the first night we’d had sex. The rage that he’d morphed into desire. How out of control my magic had been, overwhelmed and spiraling. And he’d been my pillar, as he’d always been. He’d pushed me enough but then given me what I’d needed.
We had worked perfectly.
I remembered his kiss, firm and unyielding. Wanting. Gods, how he’d wanted. How strong he was, how his big calloused hands rasped across my skin, gripping me tight like he was afraid I’d leave.
My breath hitched. My hand trailed beneath the coverlet, finding the space between my legs, already beginning to heat and throb. A tiny little coil inside my lower belly, getting tighter and tighter as I thought of Alaryk, alone in my bed.
I stroked and pressed, wanting him to be beside me so I could reach over and feel him. I wanted his mouth on mine, telling me it was going to be okay.
I should’ve told him I love him too, I thought.
A sharp stab in my chest made my hands drift away. My body was wanting but my heart was heavy. Frustrated, I got out of bed and went to the window, sitting on the stone ledge as I peered out into the dark courtyard.
I didn’t know how long I stared out the window, but my heart jolted when I saw movement beyond the half wall—a torso that I spied moving beyond the trees, and it wasn’t until they walked beyond one of the trunks that their head came into view.
I saw the silver hair first. Even in the dim moonlight, it glowed like a beacon. My heart gave a pang, not out of fear this time but out of nerves.
I hadn’t seen him since Ny’am a few days before. I’d stayed within the walls of the hatchery, like it was my own prison, only leaving once to go and see Brune.
What is he doing here? I thought.
And just when I thought that, his eyes flicked to me over the wall—blue, but not glowing-heartstone blue.
I hesitated for only a moment, feeling slightly guilty sneaking out of my room to slip into the courtyard after dark. Tarkosh had her ears perked, and surely she’d hear the creak of the door.
But I only debated for a moment before I slipped away from the window and did just that: sneak out of my room, pad down the quiet hallway with held breath, and slip through the courtyard door after I unbolted it, the sound loud enough to make me grit my teeth.
The last time I’d done this…it had been to meet Ryak and Nevin. Had that been nearly two weeks ago now?
Outside, there was a chill in the air. The changing of seasons. The riders would be heading to the Tharken cliffs soon for the illa’rosh, the choosing, or so Syris had mentioned to me. In another few short weeks, my time would’ve been up here in the Arsadia.
Never to return. Never to see Alaryk again.
“I thought you’d called to me,” Alaryk murmured when I met him at the wall, pressing my front to the stone. The wall came up to my shoulders, but Alaryk could easily perch his arms across it, peering down at me, a barrier between us when I only wanted to feel those arms around me.
My hand was close to his wrist. I rested my little finger against the skin there. His lips quirked, and instead of playing a coy little game, he reached out and grabbed my hand. He rubbed it between his own, callouses rough but he was so warm, and I nearly closed my eyes at how good it felt.
He brought the back of my hand to his lips, which felt equally as good. Then he paused, his eyes flickering and sharpening. It took me a moment to realize why. He could smell me. I remembered…I’d been touching myself.
My cheeks flamed and I gasped, snatching back my hand, a low, embarrassed laugh sounding next.
“I see,” he said, his voice a little huskier than it’d been. “That’s why it felt like you were calling for me.”
In a way, I supposed I had been.
“You…you could feel that?”
He inclined his head. “I’ve kept the bond dampened for both of our sakes,” he told me. “But heightened emotions can always peek through.”
That didn’t do anything to calm the heat running up my neck.
“I was worried. I was just going to check to make sure the hatchery was secure,” he said.
That made my heart flutter. I’d been so miserable the last few days, trying to come to terms with everything that had happened.
How I thought I should feel after the violent assault versus how I actually felt.
Syris seemed to tiptoe around me, like any moment, she expected me to crumble to the floor.
Tarkosh too. Though she didn’t trust me, the hatchery master had pushed another bowl of stew over to me at dinner, saying I needed to keep up my strength. Had she noticed I hadn’t been eating?
Maybe she thought it was because of what Ryak had done.
But it was strange. It had happened. I’d almost died.
At night, I still had nightmares of that forest, the mud, the rain.
And yet life was pressing me forward, as it always did.
I didn’t want Ryak, of all people in this world, to make me feel afraid for any longer than he already had. That was my choice. My power over him.
He was dead. And I was still here.
Truthfully, my appetite had been diminished because my heart was still a little broken. Alaryk was offering me the pieces, but…it was my choice to puzzle them back together.
“I’m fine,” I said to Alaryk. And I meant it.
I miss you, I thought next.
And maybe he felt the strength of the sentiment of that feeling because his expression flickered, a warmth rising in his eyes.
I perched my chin on the stone wall, as close as I could get to him, and he stooped down so he was doing the same, our eyes level. His hand reached out to trace my unmarred cheek, as if he still needed to make sure I was whole, flesh unbroken.
“I wish that I could go back to that night,” he told me quietly, gently. “I think about it all the time.”
The night he’d broken his promise to me.