34. Chapter 34
Chapter thirty-four
We were back in the small room behind the library, the illusion destroyed as Sin fought to put the flames out with a blanket. They coated my entire body like a second skin, and the acrid smoke stung my nose.
I think he shouted my name, but I didn’t fully register what happened while I lay unmoving on the couch, save for the slight twitch of my hips as my body continued to savor every last drop of pleasure despite the raging inferno.
The fire consumed everything around me, and yet… it didn’t burn me . The opposite, in fact. The flames caressed me, soothed me.
As my heart rate finally settled back to normal, I lifted my hand to my face and watched the fire fade away as if crawling back into my skin to slumber until summoned again. My eyes scanned the length of my arm, studying the new black swirls with accents of red that spread from my wrist to my elbow. I had never seen a Rivellan with color in their ramentum before, and I briefly wondered if I should be worried about that.
I sat up, taking in the damage surrounding me. The sofa was covered in black scorch marks, some of them still letting off wisps of smoke as the last embers died. The fire must have spread to the rug because it too was deeply singed. That would be tough to explain to Corym.
The only damage I cared about, though, was the damage that I had done to Sin. His chest and arms were covered in deep burns—charred, cracked, and oozing blood. The ruined blanket hung limply at his side as he gaped at me with an emotion I couldn’t decipher.
I reached down to pull up my leggings and found nothing but charred bits of fabric flaking off my lower legs. Searching the room, I found my tunic bunched up off to the side, mostly intact save for a few burn holes and gray smudges.
I tucked my knees under me on the destroyed sofa and tried not to focus on the ashes that continued to float up into the air. “I’m sorry,” I said soberly, refusing to look at Sin. It was the most underwhelming apology given that I had roasted him and destroyed half the room, but it was all I could manage. I was barely able to calm my own thoughts enough to figure out exactly what I was feeling.
Regret? Worry? Yeah, I had both of those. But there was also a giddy thrill coursing through me, and I hated suppressing that excitement. In the aftermath of what happened though, it didn’t seem right to embrace it.
I wanted magic. I wanted my abilities to manifest. I wanted to feel powerful. I just didn’t expect anyone else to get hurt in the process.
I could still feel the fire underneath my skin, a soft thrum of warmth that felt…. right. Like it had always been there, eager for the moment I might set it free. The sensation reminded me of that split second before an argument started, when my anger would burn deep in my chest and demand to be released. Except now it was content to laze inside me. Not fading. Not flaring. Just waiting.
Sin’s silent stare was agonizing. Yelling I could handle—Sin and I were great at fighting. If I had to look in his eyes and see disappointment or regret, though… that would be a far worse fate.
Eventually, Sin made his way to the burnt sofa.
“Thanks for not dumping the bucket of bloody water on me,” I mumbled, needing to break the painful silence somehow.
“It was a challenge not to reach for the only water in the room, but I didn’t want to traumatize you.” There was a hint of amusement in his voice, and I didn’t know how he could find anything funny about what just happened. “Rain, I need your attention right now. This is important.”
My pulse pounded in my ears, and his knuckle slid under my chin to gently, but firmly, tilt my face up. As my eyes lifted to meet his, I prepared myself to see the worst.
Except there was no shame or pity on his face. Just… pride?
“You are extraordinary, Fea Remia.”
My heart bottomed out, and I collapsed in on myself. It was the last thing I expected after nearly burning him alive and damaging priceless antique furniture. He should hate me. Fear me. I would have understood either of those emotions. But this love in his eyes? He spent the morning having his back sliced up, and the first thing I did was subject him to more torture.
“I’m so sorry,” I said again.
“Don’t do that, Rain. Don’t apologize,” he replied firmly. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
“Yeah,” I said bitterly. “I manifested my first power and almost killed you in the process.”
“Is that why you look like I just broke your favorite violin? Because you think you’re a danger to me?” He leaned forward and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. It was such a small, innocuous action, and yet the tenderness of it nearly destroyed me. “Rain, you are breaking my heart right now. What you did…” He shook his head as if still in disbelief. “When an elemental caster first manifests their power, do you know what happens?”
I shook my head, realizing once again how na?ve I had been. Not once did I ask what the manifestation process entailed. For some idiotic reason I assumed I’d be walking down the street and then voila! Magic.
“It’s different for every element to some degree,” he began slowly, taking my hands in his. “Usually what happens is that you feel a tingling inside you, and the sensation is typically tied to whatever the element is. As you feel the magic start to bubble up, you have this urge to seek out your element. For myself, I could feel the call of a nearby river as the magic coursed like rushing waters through my veins. Once you’ve found it, something snaps inside you, and the element jumps to your hand, ready to be wielded. After that it takes training to master it like anything else, but anytime you see your element, you can call it to you and manipulate it as an extension of your being. You, on the other hand…”
He pulled me into him so my back was to his chest, and he wrapped his arms around me. I wished I could stop feeling bad long enough to enjoy the gentle touch of him nestling his chin on top of my head.
“The sconce behind you didn’t so much as flicker. Do you understand what I’m saying?” His arms tightened around me just enough that I wondered if he was afraid for me.
Or afraid of me.
“I don’t know what any of this means,” I admitted.
“It means, Rain, that you didn’t pull the fire to you like every igniservian has done throughout history.”
I took in a sharp inhale.
“It means, Fea Remia, that you created the fire.”
Sin left me alone in the room to go find Peywyn, saying she would have some clothes I could borrow and wouldn’t ask any questions. I tried to ignore the spark of jealousy that they were apparently close enough she would just hand over her clothing.
I should have told Sin not to leave me alone. That leaving me with nothing but my thoughts, especially after dropping a bomb like that, would not end well. I didn’t even know how to process the fact that I created fire. All of this magic was such a foreign concept to me that I honestly couldn’t see a difference between creation and manipulation. A week ago I would have laughed and said it was all absurd. It was like someone told me unicorns existed, then I stumbled upon one that could also fly. Like, sure, why not? If we’re hopping on a crazy train might as well ride to the end of the line.
I dropped to the floor and slumped back against the sofa, not caring that I was probably getting bits of charred fabric in my hair. I needed a shower anyway.
Banging my head against the sofa frame, I tried to think of anything other than Sin. Per usual, I failed miserably because my brain kept circling back around to what a tragic idea it was for us to be together. Not to mention, I still didn’t know how I felt about him watching over me for ten years. On one hand, it was kind of sweet, his need to protect me from whatever dangers he thought Rivella posed. On the other hand… it kind of left me with stalker vibes.
I would be more than happy to let a guy as hot as Sin follow me around nowadays, but when I was fifteen? Little weird. And I knew it wasn’t like that for him at first. He’d been pretty clear it was more 'protect the innocent' until well after I was an adult, but still… If he thought I was in so much danger, why not talk to me?
And why was he still not talking to me?
“Do you know what I have done to keep you away from this place? What I have sacrificed? ”
If there was truly a threat to my life in Rivella, then why not warn me?
It was the first thing I brought up the moment Sin returned.
“You’re keeping things from me,” I blurted out when he walked through the door carrying a pair of leather fighting pants and a long-sleeve beige tunic.
My question must have caught him off guard because he stilled just past the threshold. “Yes, I am,” he confirmed, his tone lacking any emotional reaction to my accusation. He handed me the clothing, then turned his back so I could change. I snorted at his modesty given where his mouth had been less than twenty minutes ago.
I tapped him on the shoulder once I was dressed. “Now spill. If you were so afraid for me to come here, why not warn me back then? And why are you still not telling me what’s going on? I’m not doing this with you anymore, Sin. If you really care about me, you’ll tell me the truth.”
He moved away from me to lean against the closed door. The space between us felt awkward, uncomfortable, and I hoped our—Relationship? Friendship?—hadn’t just taken a step backward.
“It’s not that simple, Rain.”
“So make it simple, Sin.”
He ran a hand through his dark hair, and I hated how much I wanted it to be my hands running through those soft waves.
“I can tell you that I never approached you in your world simply because I had no idea what to even say. How would you have responded if I showed up one day claiming that you were the lost princess of another world when I had no proof to back it up? I didn’t have my magic in the Other Realm, Rain. And I couldn’t show you the rift because the Walker would have seen you and told Verren. Oh, and exactly what would have happened if by some miracle you did believe me? You spend every waking moment afraid that any stranger you see might be someone who has come to kidnap you?” He shook his head. “There was no good option, Rain. The only way I saw to keep you safe was lying.”
“And now? Why keep me in the dark now?”
“I want to tell you, Rain. I do.”
“So tell me,” I begged.
“I… I want to,” he gritted out, his fists clenching and unclenching.
I wanted to grab his arms and shake the answers out of him. “So do!” I shouted, moving closer to him.
“I can’t!” he screamed in anguish before sinking to the floor and throwing his head back against the door. “I want to tell you so many things, Rain. I want to tell you so bad that it hurts, but I can’t make myself say the words. It’s killing me to hide things from you, but I just… I just can’t.”
This was not the Sin I knew—the confident, seductive, occasional asshole. This male in front of me that I found myself caring about more than I should, more than I had any right to, looked so defeated. So confused.
I knelt to press my forehead against his. I wasn’t good at this. The ability to comfort a person who was hurting was not part of my repertoire. I wanted to help in some way, though. I wanted to take away his pain.
I pulled back, caught his eyes, and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “It’s okay,” I murmured.
“No, it’s not,” he replied. “Nothing about you being here is okay.”
“I know,” I said, shifting to lean back against the door beside him, his thigh a warm presence next to my own. “I think I understand why you can’t tell me what’s going on. I asked Corym to transfer the Rivellan language to my mind, and it almost broke him. He kept saying he wanted to, but he couldn’t.” I paused, angling my head so I could look into his beautiful, sad eyes. “He looked exactly like you do right now.”
Something snapped inside Sin, and he crumpled in on himself, his body succumbing to the pressure that he had been fighting for so long. I took his face in my hands, kissed him with enough force that it was hard to pull away, then lowered his head to my lap.
We stayed like that for a long time—not saying a word, just me running my hands through his hair, forgiveness and understanding filling the silence. I didn’t have any pretty, comforting words I could give him so I hoped my presence was enough.