Chapter 54
Dianna. A Few Days Later.
H e made every morning and evening terrible. I hated him, absolutely hated him.
“Why do I have to do this again?” I groaned. Samkiel strode up the curved rocky path. I stopped, placing my hands on my knees. My ponytail swung forward, the tip reaching toward the ground. My lungs were on fire, and each gasp seemed to make it worse.
He sighed. “As I told you the first five times you asked, it’s an expressive way to work out all your anger, aggression, anxiety—”
“Yes, yes, yes,” I mocked, trying to catch my breath.
“There are other forms of cardio if you’re interested.” The smile he flashed at me made my cheeks heat. Even covered in sweat, he was so damn handsome it was sickening. All I could think about was how jealous I was that it got to touch every dip and ridge of muscle. Yes, I absolutely hated him.
I stood up and strode past him without responding, his soft chuckle following me. That was his plan. He wanted to annoy the emotions out of me, and by gods, I hated that it was working. I hated him.
“Walk in front of me,” I snapped. “I don’t want you staring at my ass.”
He grinned that devastating grin I loathed and leaned down to whisper in my ear as he passed, “I don’t need to stare. I have it memorized. Now if you wanted to let me see it bare again—”
My hand shot out to smack him, but he dodged and continued along the trail, his laughter filling the air.
“Don’t you ever get tired of flirting?” I snapped.
“With you? Never. You are fun to play with, Dianna.”
My fists clenched at my sides. Samkiel was going to be the death of me.
I huffed and puffed my way behind him, staring at every ripple of muscle.
He was the epitome of male beauty, from his broad shoulders to his tapered waist. I mean, even his legs were sexy.
What the fuck was wrong with me? This was a bad idea. Maybe I should walk in front of him.
“Keep up!” he yelled, and I cursed.
He wanted a reaction out of me, whether good or bad.
When I cursed him or tried to kick him, he smiled a fraction wider, as if the display of any emotion was proof I was here, alive and not dying inside.
And maybe, just maybe, all the banter did stir something other than despair in me, even if it was against my will.
The altitude at this height was almost crippling, but the view was worth it.
I stopped again under the pretense of taking it all in.
Mountains, far larger than I had ever seen, surrounded us.
Green wasn’t even the color I would use to describe the landscape.
It was so much more vibrant and alive. The sky damn near shimmered behind the rolling clouds.
It was reminiscent of the images of eternal paradise people painted back on Onuna.
Ignoring the slap of pain, I wondered if this was what Gabby saw now. Was she somewhere like this and happy?
I hoped so.
With a deep sigh, I turned away and rushed to catch up with Samkiel.
My back, my thighs, and my arms hurt. No, that was a lie.
Everything hurt. Every day Samkiel could escape from his duties with the council, he dragged me out to this mountain and ran me up and down it.
At first, I struggled to keep up, and I would be lying if I said I hadn’t complained the entire time.
But I still did it. He never spoke of what went on behind the council doors, but his mood was always sour when he came to me.
By the way he watched me, I had a feeling I was often a topic of conversation.
It was either all about me or something worse.
“You won’t have to send me to the council.” I huffed and leaned back, trying to catch my breath, my hand resting on my sweat-soaked side. “I’ll die from exhaustion before then.”
Samkiel turned around and walked backward, not missing a step or stumbling. “I don’t remember you complaining this much,” he quipped.
“Why are we doing this again?” I wiped my brow.
He smiled and turned around. The crunch of our shoes against the rocks was the only sound.
“If I am being honest,” he said, “this was another test.”
I paused next to a jagged rock. “Another test?”
He nodded. “The air at this altitude would kill a mortal, which means your powers are still there, bubbling under the surface.”
I stood straight, my fists clenching at my side. “You mean I could have died instead of just being worn out?”
He only smiled, not even flinching. “It wouldn’t have reached that point. I watched you every second of the way, listening to every heartbeat, every breath. I would have felt the blood vessels constricting the second it became too much, and we would have stopped.”
“So, I haven’t lost my powers?”
“No, but they are severely suppressed. So much so that even when you are angry, your hands don’t even flicker.”
I glanced at my hands, opening and closing them, missing the familiar rush of power and warmth. I felt hollow and empty, but maybe this was better.
“Maybe you’re wrong,” I said, wiping sweat from my face.
“I’m not.”
I glared at him. “You don’t know everything.”
“Why bury your powers so deeply?”
I glanced toward him as if one of the reasons wasn’t staring me in my face. “I didn’t mean to.”
“It’s okay.” He took a step closer, the rocks beneath his feet crunching. “We’ll figure it out.”
My heart lurched as he held out his hand, his pinky extended. I looked at it, remembering what it meant, what had transpired between us, and shoved past him.
“I’m ready to go.”
* * *
It was like that for days, Samkiel trying to reach me and me shutting him down. I lashed out because I didn’t feel so miserable when he was around, and that pissed me off more than anything.
Our latest argument was him trying to get me to eat. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to, but nothing sounded or tasted appetizing. Everything was bland, and after a few bites, I was done, no matter what fancy breads, meats, or fruits he brought.
Something felt off, but I would not tell him that. It could be a side effect of losing my powers. I had lived on blood and bone for months and wasn’t sure I could return to regular food. After a few days, I stopped thinking about it, not caring enough to really worry about it.
Even though we argued and I complained the whole time, being with him and participating in his crazy, stupid exercise routines seemed to help me.
I slept and didn’t dream, too tired for even that, but Samkiel wasn’t with me all the time.
I watched his light leave and cursed myself as I stayed awake, watching for his return.
Sometimes when he returned late, I’d run to the bed, fake sleep as if I hadn't been waiting, and finally doze off when I heard him downstairs. We no longer shared a bed, but just having him downstairs brought me peace. That swirling, aching void in my chest didn’t scream when he was near. Although, I’d never admit it to him.
I regretted undressing in front of him. It had been wrong, and I’d set him off when I had no right to.
I didn’t want to start what we had again, even if my body happily disagreed.
Sex with Samkiel, even knowing how exciting and amazing it would be, would mean too much, and I didn’t have the will to figure out what that meant.
Of course, Samkiel wasn’t making it easy to resist. On our runs, he would take his shirt off. I knew he wasn’t overheated, even if he was sweating. I had seen him call a breeze when I complained it was too hot one day. No, he was just trying to torture me after the bathroom incident. I knew it.
Not that I looked, stared, or counted how many abs he had, which was too many, by the way. I especially didn’t notice the twin lines that ran on either side of them, disappearing below the waistband of his pants. Or the line of finely-dusted hair that trailed—
A rumble echoed from my midsection, my cheeks flushing.
Samkiel’s head whipped toward me. “Are you hungry?”
I splayed my hand over the damp fabric of my shirt and glared at him. “No.” And I wasn’t. Not for food, at least.
The sound of water had me looking around. “No mountain running today?”
He shook his head. “No, I wanted to show you something.” He offered me his hand, but I just looked at it. “I don’t bite. That’s all you, remember?”
“Funny.” I rolled my eyes and ignored the slight shock that went through me when I put my hand in his.
He smiled, his large hand engulfing mine as he led me down a small slope.
I gasped as he pushed through the foliage. “Wow.”
“Pretty, isn’t it?” He smiled at me.
It was. A waterfall spilled into a deep, wide pool before flowing to the river. Trees that dared to touch the sky surrounded us in every direction.
“Stay here.”
He strode away, and I waited, drinking in the beauty and savoring the cool mist that rolled from the waterfall.
Large rocks pushed from the shallows, and flowers with blooming bushes crowded the shore.
The crash of the water was the only sound, drowning out all noise and leaving peace behind.
A part of me wanted to sit down and never leave.
“Here,” Samkiel said, emerging from the bushes with a handful of berries.
“I’m not hungry.”
He shook his head, smiling softly. “They are not for you.”
Before I could ask, a rustle came from behind me. I turned to see a large, beautiful stag easing his head through the bushes. He took one look at me and shuffled back into the forest.
I frowned. “Well, that was rude.”
“Just wait.”
Samkiel stepped in front of me and let out an odd ululating whistle. Branches rustled again, and I braced for it to run away and leave like everyone else.
“This is stupid.” I huffed, folding my arms across my chest.
“Just wait.” Samkiel held his hand toward me as if I was the doting fawn attempting to flee.
I sighed but stood still, watching.
Samkiel whistled again, a chuff coming from the stag before it finally emerged from the overgrowth.