Thirty-Two
Kallie
“Rise and shine, Princess.” Callum’s voice lulls me awake right before the curtains are drawn back, and the rising sun penetrates through the balcony door. I groan, frustrated that morning is already here, and pull the blankets over my head and turn the other direction. “The day is wasting away while you rot in that bed. Get up. We’re leaving in five,” Callum continues, footsteps sounding near the closet, possibly even leaving. Silly me, I could never be that lucky.
He yanks the blanket off me in one swoop, and a chill races over me, the warmth the blanket provided gone, and goosebumps immediately rise at the loss. “Was that really necessary?” I huff, gazing out the glass ceiling. The newly panned ceiling that must have been restored after I fell asleep, along with the rest of the carnage from last night’s events.
“Seeing as though you’re still in bed, I think I need to try harder.” His statement falls on deaf ears as I close my eyes, the feeling of sleep just out of my grasp. The warmth of the fire immediately dissipates, and my eyes shoot open in annoyance. Sitting up, I glare at the smirking bastard, his arms crossed over his broad chest, the cords on his forearms bulging with the tension.
Against my will, my eyes roam over his body. He’s dressed casually, a black t-shirt hugging his torso and his biceps that are bigger than my head. His tattoo pokes out of his collar, starting just behind his ear and snaking down underneath, and I involuntarily like my lips as I imagine where it goes and where it ends. Tracking down farther, the gray sweatpants don’t leave anything to the imagination. Goddess, why is it always the gray sweatpants?
A low chuckle derails my thoughts, the train racing off the tracks and crash landing into the side of a mountain, pulling me back to the present.
“You have a little something right here,” Callum comments, a finger scratching down at the corner of his lip. And just like that, I’m back to shooting lasers at the fucker, and if looks could kill, he would be plastered on the floor, and I would be back in dreamland. Unfortunately, I haven’t learned that superpower yet, so he’s still kicking, and I’m still awake.
“I don’t know what you have planned today, but something tells me that you’re severely underdressed for the occasion.”
“I can say the same for you,” he retorts, eyes quickly dipping down and back up. It’s then it dawns on me that my blanket is still haphazardly thrown on the ground, and my jammies aren’t exactly the most conservative. My face heats, and instinctively, my hands shoot up, covering my already pebbled nipples that there’s no chance in hell he didn’t see.
“Can you pass me that blanket, actually?” My head ticks to the right, my lips sitting in a firm line.
“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. Besides, we both know if I hand that over, you’ll go right back to bed, and we don’t have time for that. Get up and get dressed,” he says, heading toward the door. With one last look over his shoulder, he adds, “Or don’t,” and then he’s gone with a click of the door.
I eyeball the blanket, debating if it’s worth it to catch a few more Zs before he storms back in. Before I can think better of it, his voice echoes in my mind, Don’t even think about it. I shriek in surprise before the shock turns into rage, and I’m rolling off the bed and stomping out the door.
“Tell me right now. What the fuck is going on?” I seethe, anger radiating off me. A playful smile dances on his lips, my question going unanswered. He makes no move toward me as I stand there, still in my jammies and not giving a fuck that he can make out every dip and curve of my body.
“You have a little something right here,” I say, my tone mocking while mimicking the motion he made before. Crossing my arms over my chest, the swell of my breasts is more pronounced, and I don’t miss the way his eyes bounce between them and my face.
“Get dressed.”
“No.”
“No?”
“Did I stutter? I’m not doing anything until you tell me how you keep doing that.”
“And I’m not saying anything until you get dressed.” Real fucking mature.
“Then I guess we’re at an impasse.” I remain there, under his scrutiny, refusing to back down.
“If you change, I’ll answer three questions,” he offers.
I tilt my head to the side, one of my eyebrows hiking to my hairline. “I don’t remember saying this was a negotiation.”
“It’s a compromise.” I consider it, moving my head side to side, contemplating my response. “Make it five questions, and you have a deal.”
“I thought this wasn’t a negotiation.”
“I didn’t say it wasn’t. I said I didn’t remember it being one.”
“Fine,” he concedes, seemingly done with this bullshit. With a victorious grin, I turn back around, going to the bedroom to get changed.
He never said what I was getting ready for, and he was still in his lounge wear when I went out there. Belladonna lent me a few changes of clothes to wear during our training sessions, but from the looks of it, today is Callum’s day.
Fuck it. I guess it’s better to be safe than sorry. I should see if we can go shopping at some point. Everything I own is graphic tees and leggings, and if there was an occasion I needed something different, I would just raid Kate’s closet. Kate. Goddess, I miss her. The way she laughed, the way she always made me feel better, the way she held me after one of my episodes and cried with me while saying everything was going to be alright.
With that thought, all the events from last night flood to the front of my mind. My body begins to tremble, air just out of my grasp. Bracing my back against the wall, I close my eyes and take deep breaths.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale…
…exhale.
The nightmare comes in waves, bits and pieces coming through to make a horrifying patchwork of despair. Everything after that is clear as day. Obliterated glass, the blood-stained sheets. The rainstorm whispering promises to drown out my sorrow.
Then there was Callum.
Embracing the storm like it was a long-lost friend and he too had wished for its promises. When he climbed into bed, there was a part of me that screamed to run, thrash and fight to get him away. But the other part of me wanted to welcome him. His touch, his smell. The feather-like touches that made me feel like I was safe. Like I could finally breathe again. That part of me grew the longer we lay there. The desire to seek the heat radiating from his body as the downpour chilled me to the bone, craving comfort.
Slowly, my eyes open, and I’m sitting on the floor of the closet, my lungs finally able to fill with air again.
My legs scream in protest while I try to stand, the ache in my shins almost too much to bear. Every inch of me burns with vengeance, not letting me forget the trials and tribulations from the day before.
Once I’m dressed, I begrudgingly make my way to the bathroom, doing my skin care and debating on what to do with my hair. Raising my arms above my head, I attempt to braid the left side, but after only three braids my arms give out, and it’s tumbling in my face again. My hands brace on the counter, my head hanging low between them as I beg the pain to subside. Just when I decide to throw it in a messy bun, there’s a knock on the door. Callum stands in the doorway, probably coming to tell me that he’s going to take a question away for every minute I’m late. I don’t even have the energy to look at him. Only the sound of his boots hitting the tile indicates that he’s beside me.
“Can you just give me a minute?” I ask. Seconds pass without him making a sound. I’m about to lift my head up when I suddenly feel fingers lacing in my hair. My head snaps up, and if it wasn’t for our height difference, I definitely would’ve headbutted him. “What are you doing?” The question comes out with caution. Without answering, he begins weaving the strands together.
Callum continues down my left side, pulling the strands taut and with precision. My eyes roll in the back of my head, lost in the feel of his fingers gliding over my scalp, collecting a section at a time. I get lost in his touch as each piece he adds sends an electric current through me. All my senses are heightened, making me all too aware how close he is. The heat from his body warms my back, his breath fanning over the nape of my neck, and the caress of his fingertips has goosebumps rising over my arms like featherlike kisses.
I’m still in disbelief, barely registering that he needs something as he gestures his hand out for a hair tie, and I wordlessly hand it over. I’m still trying to understand what the fuck is happening as he begins the other side, and before I know it, I’m handing him the second band. My body is completely relaxed and also wary of the sentiment.
I stare at myself in the mirror, analyzing the perfectly sectioned braids going down both sides. My gaze flicks to Callum, who’s standing behind me, staring at me through the reflection. Our eyes meet, unspoken words being translated through a single look. The moment is broken when he clears his throat and turns toward the door, indicating I should follow. And now I’m wishing I would have bargained for more than the five questions.
The weather is consistently gloomy. Clouds cover the sun the majority of the time, the sun only able to surface at first light. Birds sound in the trees around us, the stones shifting under my feet as we walk along the pathway outside Callum’s home. The lack of light doesn’t seem to hinder the growth of nature as lush trees blanket the area, and flowers of all species and colors litter the soil. Insects and creatures roam that I’ve never seen before. I’m in a constant state of awe every time I step outside, seeing that the world is a much bigger place than I could have ever imagined.
“Where are we going?” The question falls from my lips as I follow Callum off the rocks and onto the uneven ground of the forest.
“Be careful. Now you only have four questions,” he states. His smartass replies are getting on my last nerve.
“Oh, come on,” I complain. “How is that fair?”
“All’s fair in love and war, Princess. Now you’re at three.”
“Okay, this is bullshit.” I rage, my skin heating with every word. Minutes pass without a reply, and he never told me where we’re going.
Suddenly, it’s like time stills, everything around me slowly vanishing. The birds chirping, the rustling of the wind, the crunch beneath my feet, is all replaced by a grumble. A growl so loud it rattles within my bones and settles there, making it its new home. The tug within my chest pulls, just like it did when I was training with Donni, a deep sense calling to me, begging me to find it.
My mouth opens to ask if he heard it too, but I snap it closed, knowing it will count against my allotted questions. His chuckle beside me reminds me what sparked this debate to begin with.
“Can you read my mind?” I’m unsure if he’ll answer. He’s made it clear that I am apparently allowed to ask questions, but he’s not obligated to answer them. The work-around loopholes that he finds is infuriating, to say the least.
“Yes,” is all he says. No explanation, no reason why he does it. More questions race through my mind, but I think better than to ask them. Needing to choose my words wisely, I ponder the next one, knowing I can’t ask anything that could result in a yes or no answer.
“How can I hear you in my head?”
His lips quirk up at the corner, just enough that I can see the smallest indent of his dimple. “We’re connected.” I give him a sideways glare out the corner of my eye, and he chuckles before continuing, “We’re connected in a way that is hard to describe. Think of it as an invisible link that tethers us together. I follow that line, pushing my thoughts down it, and it transfers to you.”
I consider his response. Knowing he has unlimited access to my brain is unsettling. I wonder if I can do the same thing to him—talk to him down this link, read his mind, and see how much he likes it. Next to me, Callum shakes his head, using his fist as a bite block to try to contain his laughter.
“You’re listening to my thoughts again.” A statement, not a question.
“It’s kind of hard not to when they’re so loud.” Great, now I have to be self-conscious of what I’m thinking too.
We continue walking for what seems like forever. Sweat trickles down my face, and I know that I chose the wrong outfit. I would do unholy things for a tall glass of water and a nap. Up ahead, Callum strides right on along, not looking the least bit tired.
Well, there’s a tall glass of water. The thought is there before I even knew it was coming, and I force it away instantly before he hears it too.
The ground has been nothing short of unforgiving, my muscles still tense after the training session with Donni. Does he not understand that water is a basic need for survival? And snacks! Snacks are a crucial part of a hiking trip. I didn’t even grab a granola bar before we left. My stomach growls at the thought, and I do my best to tell it to shut up, but alas, there’s only so much I can do.
Something about the scenery of this place puts me at ease, like my mind knew something was wrong my whole life, and now that I’m finally here, it feels content. Despite the growing aches and pains, the constant fear of not knowing the full story, I feel…at home, and I can finally breathe.
My thoughts are interrupted by my face meeting Callum’s back. “Thanks for the warning, asshole,” I snark, rubbing my nose.
“For someone so on edge, you don’t pay much attention to your surroundings,” he comments.
“And why would I have to worry about my surroundings when I have a big mean, shadow-wielding machine to protect me,” I mock, batting my eyelashes.
“I thought you might want a reprieve from all the walking, but clearly you got a second wind.”
“Wait!” I yell desperately. Raising an eyebrow, he stands there, waiting for me to continue. But the cat literally has my tongue, because I’ll be damned if I waste another question. So instead, I hold my ground, popping my hip out and crossing my arms defiantly.
“There’s another way to get there. I don’t know if you’re up for it, but for my own sanity, I would rather risk it than listen to you bitch for the remainder of the trip.”
Freeing one of my hands, I gesture for him to continue, indifference warring with excitement on my face. A heartbeat passes, then another, and just when I think he is full of shit, the most out-of-this-world thing happens right in front of my eyes.
Inky black smoke appears just behind him, and like a curtain being pulled open, the most beautiful set of raven-black wings juts out of his back. My arms drop to my sides, my jaw goes completely slack, opening so wide I’m convinced it’s actually touching the floor. They give a flutter, stirring up dust and debris, like they’ve been confined for too long, and they’re whimpering with the feel of being set free.
I thought there was no way he could look more beautiful. He looks like art, like somebody sculpted him from stone. Defined features, tones muscles, unnaturally tall. Then add in this new development, and it’s…otherworldly.
I stand there, unmoving, gawking at his wings—at him— all while his stance never changes other than the shit-eating grin plastered on his face, dimples in full effect.
“Please, Princess, tell me again how ‘otherworldly beautiful’ I am.”
“You have wings,” I state, all other words disappearing from my vocabulary.
“And here I thought you weren’t observant,” he says, stalking toward me. I can’t peel my eyes away. They’re magnificent.
“Thank you.”
“Stay out of my head!”
“Just shut me out, Princess. Mine’s locked up like Fort Knox.” There it is, a small piece of information I didn’t ask for. Whether he meant to or not, it doesn’t matter. I school my features, not letting the victorious smile break free.
“We can’t fly the whole way, but you can reserve some energy for the real hike.”
“The real hike?” I realize my mistake too late, not necessarily a question, but stated as one.
Dismissing it, he continues, “I’m going to carry you like the princess you are, doing all the hard work while you lounge in my arms and feel that fresh breeze fan across your cheeks.” And then he fucking boops my nose.
“Careful, Princess, wouldn’t want to start a forest fire.”
“Keep it up, and I just might,” I bite.
He chuckles, “Don’t tempt me with a good time.” Without asking, he takes me in his arms, cradling me against his chest. Wrapping my arms loosely around his neck, I fight the urge to lean into the safety of his touch.
“You’re going to want to hold on tighter than that, Princess.”
“I think I can manage, thank you.”
A sinister smile spreads across his face. “Whatever you say.” Then my heart plummets out of my ass.
Burying my face in the crook of his neck, my arms cling around him like a lifeline, and I squeeze my eyes so tight dots appear behind my eyelids. I breathe him in, letting the scent of eucalyptus envelop my senses, willing my heart to calm.
Eventually we even out, and the steady cool breeze brushes against my cheek. I lift my head slowly, opening my eyes, and audibly gasp at the sight. The tops of trees are so close, and the darkened clouds look just out of reach. I see the lights from the city as I slightly turn my head to the right.
“This is incredible.” I’m completely transfixed, hypnotized from the beauty holding me captive.
“It’s the second most beautiful thing this world has to offer.”
“What’s the first?” He doesn’t answer, and I search my mind for the connection he described, a tether to let me into his mind.
I watch the movement of his wings. He has fucking wings. Those would have come in handy when I was climbing that damn mountain with Donni. They teeter side to side, trying to stay balanced.
They’re magnificent. The setting daylight creates a gleam throughout them, a shimmering mirage of black with the slightest hues of blue. My gaze roams over them. They look soft and yet so incredibly strong, and I have the intrusive thought to reach out and touch them.
Carefully unclasping one of my hands from his neck, I hold out my pointer finger, and just when I’m about to make contact, Callum interrupts.
“Don’t.” It doesn’t come out harsh, more like a plea.
“Sorry, I just thought—”
“I know what you thought.” Right. I understand boundaries. No means no. I wish I would have been granted the same understanding.
Callum stiffens his hold, pulling me impossibly closer.
“That’s not what I meant.” The tone is soft, softer than I’ve ever heard him speak. Unease settles in my gut, understanding that he has access to the deepest darkest parts of me, even if I don’t want him to.
“It’s fine. I heard you loud and clear.”
“You’re not understanding. It’s not that I don’t want you to touch them. I actually think about you touching them quite often,” he admits, his head tilting to the side as if trying to indicate what he’s meaning. But I don’t know what he means. So instead of arguing about it, I decide it’s best to let it go. He is holding me up in the air, after all, and the last thing I need is to piss him off just the right amount and plummet to my death.
The rest of the flight is short. I have no clue how long it would have taken us to walk, but I’m thanking all the stars in the sky we didn’t.
Callum sets me down on shaky legs. They feel like Jell-O when I try to stand, and I lose my balance, having nothing else but him to hold onto for support.
“This looks just like the trees outside your house,” I remark.
“Yes, well, we can’t fly any farther than this. Safety hazard.” His comment leaves me puzzled, but he doesn’t elaborate.
Trudging along, I block out the sting spreading from my shins and focus on making it to the break in the trees. Callum, being the gentleman that he is, doesn’t wait for me to catch up. He just keeps on going, and my legs are only willing to go so fast.
Finally, I catch up to him. “Would it have killed you to wait a sec—” My words die on the tip of my tongue, getting lost as I stare up and up at the iridescent wall touching the sky.
“Come on. We don’t have all day.” Callum’s comment snaps me out of my trance, and when I look in his direction, he steps through the barrier.
Cautiously, I step forward until my nose is just a centimeter away. You just walk through it? Seems a bit contradictory. Why put it up at all? Callum sighs loudly on the other side, and I make a mental note to add impatience to the growing list of things he needs to work on.
Hesitantly, I poke a finger through it, little tingles spreading over it when I do. Quickly, I pull it back and inspect it.
“It doesn’t bite,” he says, clearly annoyed.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and brace for impact. Working up the courage, I jump in place, trying to shake out the nerves. A hand grips the front of my shirt, and I don’t even have time to protest before I’m pulled through the barrier. Just like my finger, the tingles spread all over my body like tiny sparklers. I expected it to look different on the other side. Brighter, more full of life, but it looks the exact same.
Callum doesn’t waste any time, and I wordlessly follow him through the thin trees over a small hill. Once we reach the other side, utter fear takes hold of me, stopping me in my tracks. I’m paralyzed, rooted in place, with every instinct inside of me screaming to run.
That pull in my chest, the tugging from somewhere deep inside me, beckons me to go farther, like a rope is cemented inside, and the other end is attached to a cinder block being thrown in the deepest part of the ocean.
The ground shakes as a rumble comes from afar. I don’t notice when Callum moves closer to me, but his hand gently touches my arm, and I jolt.
“We have to keep moving,” he says, nodding his head in the direction of the beasts.
The beasts I’ve only read about in fairy tales. The things that the knight in shining armor slays to rescue the princess. “Dragons.”