Chapter 30
THIRTY
W arm sunlight bathes my face. Slowly, I creep my eyes open, rubbing them gently with my hands to chase the sleep away. But as I turn on my back, I have to blink twice to make sure I'm seeing right. That's when I notice that I'm lying down on a soft material. Ze's sitting with his legs crossed, holding his hands by his side so he won't touch me. But that doesn't change the fact that I've been sleeping on his lap.
"Ze?" I get up, sleepy confusion still clinging to my lashes.
"You're awake?" He looks at me and nods, getting to his feet to stretch.
I gape at him.
"Did I... Did I sleep on your lap the whole night?" I clear my throat.
He nods.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry! Did you get any sleep?" I burst out, ashamed of myself.
"No. I kept watch," he answers tersely.
"Are you tired? Do you want to take a quick nap while I keep watch? Damn it, you should have woken me up sooner to change places."
He stops, slowly turning toward me.
"Change places?" he asks in a low voice. "Would you allow me to use you as a pillow?"
I'm taken aback by his question, and for a moment, I consider saying no. But it's my fault he didn't get any sleep. It's also imperative that he is rested since I'm relying on his strength in case there's any danger as we continue our journey.
"All right," I eventually answer.
"I suppose a few minutes would not hurt," he mumbles, coming to my side. He plops himself on the floor and places his head on my lap. Everything happens so quickly that I can only stare at him as he makes himself comfortable in my lap, closing his eyes and releasing a deep breath.
I hold myself still even as he relaxes.
Damn it, why did I agree to this? It somehow feels too intimate, not only him sleeping on my lap, but also me sleeping on his.
He doesn't sleep long. In fact, he's up in a matter of minutes, dusting his clothes and looking entirely unbothered.
"Okay, so what's next now? Where are we going?" I ask as I get to my feet.
He scans the ground for a twig, which he uses to draw in the sand the map he memorized.
"We're here. We need to go north and then farther west to reach the forest," he explains. "You will need to be more vigilant as we get closer to the forest. We won't be the only ones searching for that plant."
"Do you think the others already got there?" I ask as I nibble my lip.
"Yesterday at the convocation, I studied some of the competition," he says as he uses his foot to wipe the map. "There are people who I am sure will not make it. But there are also plenty of dangerous species in the competition—even some that have powers to rival those of a god."
My eyes widen.
"What does that mean for us?"
"We will need to be more careful. I am not at my full potential in this realm," he adds as he clears his throat. "Otherwise, of course, I could take each and every one of them," he amends. He straightens his back, his hand going to the hilt of his sword as he caresses the dark handle.
"Of course." I nod, a smile pulling at my lips. His pride would never allow him to admit anything less.
"As I am limited, however, we shall have to avoid a direct confrontation," he continues. "We will also have to avoid drawing too much attention to ourselves, although I suppose killing the foxes did not help," he muses to himself.
"Why would someone so powerful join this competition then? If they are so strong, why would they need a wish from the game?"
"Not all desire a wish," he says, his lips flattening in displeasure.
"What?" I frown.
"There are some that make a sport out of this competition, training in between editions to get greater results."
Realization dawns on me. If they've trained in between editions, they must be hundreds of years old.
"You mean there are some who've participated in the game before? And won?"
"Participated, yes. Won? A few might have. The ones who did not were smart enough to quit at the right time."
"But why? Why would anyone do this?"
"Recognition. Ambition. Pride," he answers glibly. "There is one resolute rule in this competition that has been around for thousands of years. No god or demon can participate. This is all to make the game fair to participants, but that doesn't mean that distant relatives of gods are not competing. And if they are hybrids of another powerful species, that is all it takes for someone to have powers to equal those of a god."
"Oh. Wow. I didn't realize this was more than just a game of wishes." I force a wobbly smile.
"The gods are watching this game closely," he explains in a tight voice. "Those who will make it to the last trial may even gain the favor of one. The opportunities are endless."
"Is that why you're here? To gain recognition? Or is it to gain the approval of a god?" I ask, tilting my head to study him. How is it that until now I haven't even questioned his reasons for participating in the game.
A sardonic smile takes possession of his lips, and he stares at me for a moment.
"I am here to gain...something."
"Something?"
"There is something of interest to me in this competition," he amends, but his vague reply suggests he doesn't want me to probe further.
I nod slowly.
"Well, I hope you'll get what you wish for. I promise I'll try not to die," I joke, since we're all aware I'm the weakest link of our team.
"You will not die," he grits out, his expression icy.
"Of course. We'll win this game. You'll get your thing and I'll get my husband back, and everything will be perfect." I beam at him. Except my words don't seem to warm him up. If anything, his features are taut, his hands clenched into fists by his side. He stares at me, his nostrils flaring. Before I know what's happening, he stalks toward me, his body rippling with unreleased tension.
My eyes widen, and I flinch just as he stops in front of me, instinctively closing my eyes and waiting for an imaginary blow.
Nothing happens.
He doesn't come closer.
I count to ten in my mind before I creep my eyes open. He's staring at me with an odd expression on his face, his arm hanging midair as if reaching for me but never quite making it.
"We're leaving," he states in a rough tone, his arm dropping to his side.
Grabbing the bag off the floor, he swings it over his shoulder. And with that, the conversation is over. He turns his back and marches forward. Silence descends as he continues to walk, with me trailing a few steps behind him.
His broad back fills my vision as I wonder if I said or did something wrong.
We walk for about an hour before I decide that I don't like this awkward silence. Hopping to his side, I grab onto his arm, looking up at him and playfully batting my lashes.
"Want me to tell you another story?"
He gives me a sharp look, but the subtle wiggle of his brows denotes his interest.
He releases a noncommittal grunt, but I don't know if that's a yes or a no.
"Yes? No?" I ask hopefully. When he doesn't reply, I continue. "If you don't want a story, we can talk about something else," I offer. I hate awkward silences, just as I hate feeling I said something wrong and upset him.
His gaze dips to me, his lips twitching.
"Why don't you tell me more about that new palace of yours? Did you decorate it? How many rooms does it have?" The questions are out of my mouth before I can help myself. But going by the slight smile I detect on his lips, he's not too bothered.
"Are you bored, human?" he suddenly asks, raising a brow at me.
"Are you mad at me for something, Sir Sparkles?" Although I meant for it to be a playful question, I fear that my insecurities must have bled through.
"I am not mad at you." He shakes his head.
"Promise?" I insist.
He purses his lips, giving me a long look.
"I am mad at myself," he reluctantly admits.
I frown.
"Why? You did nothing wrong."
"I scared you," he states in a low voice.
My brows shoot up in surprise.
"You thought I was going to hit you," he continues stiffly.
"I-I..."
Reaching down, he catches my hand in his, holding it tight.
"What happened to you?" His voice is soft, entirely belying his previous countenance.
I swallow hard, directing my gaze to the ground.
When I don't answer, he comes to a halt—and me with him. He moves in front of me, tipping my chin up with his thumb.
"I have witnessed this type of behavior before in the people we rescue from abusive situations. They recoil at sudden close contact in fear of being hurt. You thought I was going to hurt you."
I bite my lip as I look at him and the concern I spot in his gaze.
"What happened to you, Luce?" he murmurs in the softest, most comforting tone.
"What happens to most slaves, I guess," I say, forcing a smile.
"You were beaten," he states.
I nod.
"Were you...raped?" It's almost as if it hurts him physically to ask the question.
I slowly shake my head.
"I was lucky," I whisper. "It never got that far."
"But you were hurt."
Another nod.
He closes his eyes, releasing a deep breath.
"I apologize," he finally says.
My eyes widen in surprise.
"I shall attempt to be more careful around you. I do not wish to cause you any distress."
"Thank you..." I murmur, utterly shocked at his words.
He nods awkwardly, silence descending between us.
I'm staring straight at his face. He's looking anywhere but at me.
Clearing his throat, he tugs me along as he continues walking.
"So about that palace of yours." I smile as I switch the topic to something more pleasant.
He snorts.
"You seem very interested in my palace."
"Of course. Who doesn't like palaces?"
He regards me for a moment before he nods to himself.
"How many rooms does it have?" I ask.
"Some fifty rooms, I believe. I have never counted them."
"Wow. It must have been expensive to decorate fifty rooms," I breathe out.
He gives me a side glance, his lips twitching.
"Indeed." He straightens his back. " Very expensive. It is one of the most ostentatious palaces in the realm."
"And you live there alone?" I blink. "Don't you get... lonely?"
Fifty rooms is a lot for a single person.
His brows furrow.
"Lonely? What is that?"
I stare at him. At first, I think he's joking, but his expression of confusion is genuine.
"You know... alone?"
"I am used to being alone." He frowns.
"But you shouldn't be. Don't Cer and Thea visit you?"
"I prefer to be alone," he replies smoothly. "Cerenios and Erithea know better than to show up unannounced. I have wards all around the premises, and if an intruder thought to enter, he would be turned to dust."
"No one prefers to be alone," I remark softly, my heart clenching at the certainty I hear in his voice. "Have you never invited anyone to your palace?"
"Why should I? It is my home. I do not like strangers in my home."
"You're telling me you're completely alone in a fifty-room palace?"
"A very expensive palace," he interjects.
"Right. You're the only person in a fifty-room very expensive palace?"
"Indeed." He nods, pride emanating from his voice.
I thought talking about a mundane subject like his palace would lift up our spirits, but instead, this is even more depressing. What's worse is that he doesn't even realize how strange this is.
"Okay, got it. You live alone in your very expensive fifty-room palace. But who cleans? Who cooks? Who keeps the palace in shape?" Something of that size is usually maintained by a crew of tens if not hundreds of people.
"Me, of course," he answers in indignation. "I would never trust a stranger with my belongings."
Well, at least he's self-sufficient. I guess that's something...?
Although Nikki had a similar outlook, at least he had me. We were never lonely because we were together.
"You don't have to live like that, you know?" I add softly. "You're not a bad guy. I'm sure you'd have more friends if you tried."
He slowly turns to me, his eyes pinning me to the spot.
"Does that mean you think I am nice?" he asks, his lips twitching.
"Yes. You are quite nice." I smile. "You're a good friend, Ze." I pat his arm.
He preens at my praise. "You can't take it back," he warns.
I chuckle. But my laughter is cut off as Ze moves with shocking swiftness. I don't even have time to react as he engulfs me in his arms, tackling me to the ground and rolling with us so that he cushions our fall with his body.
As we come to a stop, I'm flat on my back with Ze looming over me, his body draped over mine. His arms are around my waist, holding me tight but making sure he's not overwhelming me with his weight. His face is a razor's edge away from mine. Up close, I can see his features better—the almond shape of his eyes and the swirling darkness of his irises, his high cheekbones and his strong, masculine jaw. I rectify my assessment of him from earlier. He is a very handsome man. It's odd that I've never quite realized that before.
I study his features at leisure, my eyes dipping lower to his straight nose and full lips—he has very full lips for a man. If he weren't such a peculiar man, I'm sure he'd have women falling all over him—of course, I don't believe his claims that he's sought-after. The man can barely string together two sentences without offending someone—that someone being me in particular. I fail to see how any woman would find that attractive. Maybe it's cute in a maladroit way, but mostly rude.
Still deep in thought, I feel tendrils of hot air bathe my face. I lift my gaze back to his. I blink slowly. His eyes... Are they...purple?
My lips part in wonder. Bringing my hand to his face, I brush away a few rebel curls from his cheek before I mold my palm to his skin, tracing the area around his eyes. Wow... I've never seen eyes this color before. But...how?
As my thumb brushes against his skin, he inhales sharply, his muscles tightening. Thinking I must have offended him somehow, I pull my hand back. At the same time, his hand shoots out, holding mine in place.
His eyes close, his chest rumbling with a rough and wild sound.
My heart thumps in my chest, adrenaline pumping through my veins.
"Ze?" I whisper.
He doesn't answer, taking another deep breath as he presses my hand tighter against his skin, slowly moving it around until his lips brush against the inside of my wrist. A strangled noise erupts in the stillness of the forest—one that I'm not sure whether it's coming from him or from an unknown foe.
I try to wiggle under him.
"Don't," he barks the command, his eyes snapping open.
He stares at me with those swirling purple eyes, his black pupils fading into a mix of silver and purple, as if the starry sky met aurora borealis.
"Don't move," he grits out.
"What?" I whisper.
His lips compress into a thin line, his expression changing as he glares at me. One moment we're on the ground, the next he's up, helping me to my feet too.
"Why did you..." I start to ask but stop when I see him march toward a tree in the back. He removes an arrow stuck in the bark and studies it closely.
"Traps," he states. "Someone was here before us," he says as he directs his gaze to the path we were supposed to take. "We need to be more careful."
"But it's just an arrow, no?" I ask as I go to his side.
His mouth curls in a lopsided smile.
"Not just an arrow," he notes, swiping some yellow residue with his finger from the arrowhead. Bringing it to his nose, he sniffs it.
"Venom."
"What?"
"Naga venom. Deadly to almost any species. A painful death, too."
"We'll need to be more careful then. Can you spot the traps? You were pretty fast there."
He nods, but his expression is grave.
"You need to stick by my side at all times," he tells me in a strict voice as he throws the arrow to the ground and destroys it with his powers.
"All right," I say softly. "Thank you for saving me. You were awesome!" I exclaim enthusiastically as I give him two thumbs-up. Of course, he doesn't know what that symbolizes, so he merely shrugs.
Yet as he gazes at me, I note that his eyes are still the same swirling purple. It wasn't a play of lights or my erroneous perception.
"Ze... Why are your eyes a different color?"
He blinks, shock enveloping his features.
"They...are?" he asks in a low voice.
I nod, worried.
"What color?" he demands.
"Purple."
He frowns.
"My eyes? You are sure?" he adds, confused.
"Yes. They're very purple, Ze. Has this never happened before?"
"Never," he rasps. His brows crease in confusion, and for a moment, he looks so lost, I get an overwhelming urge to give him a hug and tell him we'll work it out—that regardless of what's happening to him, it's all going to be all right.
"Do your eyes hurt? Can you see fine?" Now I am getting worried. If it's never happened before... Oh my God! What if he got hit and this is a side effect? What if...
Before I know what I'm doing, I'm circling around him, my hands on his back and chest as I look for an entry point from the arrow. Panic bubbles in my chest. What if he's dying? What if he got hit by the venom and he's going to die?
Tears prick at my eyes, and oddly enough, my first thought is about him, not about the competition or my chances of getting Nikki back. I just...don't want him to die.
"Human, cease!" His voice echoes.
I'm a sniffling mess as he grabs my hands, stopping me.
"Why are you crying? Answer me!" he demands in a strict voice.
"You..." Tears roll down my face in rivulets. "You're dying," I sob aloud.
"What nonsense are you spouting?" He frowns.
"You got hit," I sniffle, using the back of my hand to wipe the moisture from my cheeks. "That's why your eyes are purple. You got hit and...now you're dying. I don't want you to die!" My throat closes up as fear engulfs me.
He simply stares at me. He removes my hands from my face, placing them by my side. Without a word, he uses his own sleeve to dab at my face. His touch is much gentler than I would have expected as he brushes my tears away.
"I am not dying, human," he finally says with a sigh. "I do not know why my eyes have changed color, but it might be a side effect of this realm."
"Oh," I whisper, feeling extremely silly for my outburst. "Sorry," I murmur.
"Were you worried about me?" He clears his throat, pushing his chin up.
I nod as I swallow painfully.
He gazes down at me, pensive.
"No one has worried about me before," he muses quietly.
"No one?" I ask in a low, wobbly voice.
"You are the first." He nods, his lips twitching.
I mirror his smile, and we're gazing at each other like two fools.
My runny nose, however, breaks the spell.
"Do you mind if I use that..." I tug at his already wet sleeve.
He takes one look at my runny nose, then another at his sleeve before he pulls his hand from my grasp, wrinkling his nose.
"Do not push your luck, human," he mutters under his breath.