Chapter Forty-One
Samara
Boom!
Crack, boom!
Lights exploded in the sky. I pulled back, covering my ears as the sky turned yellow, green, blue with light. Whatever quiet moment we’d had dissipated as the lights burst through the air.
A slight whistle sounded, the barest specks of darkness flying into the sky. Then they erupted again, this time a show of various pinks, purples, and reds in radiant circles.
“What is this? Magic?” I asked, awed. The sound had startled me the first time, but the second wasn’t as bad. The sky lit almost as bright as day with a flurry of more sparks. Beautiful.
“A mix of magic and chemistry. They do this every year. Limanos is famous for their fireworks, though they were actually invented on another continent. They spend months preparing for this every year. It’s half the reason people travel from all over the continent for Skyflame.”
“I’ve never seen anything like this. I can see why you brought us out here.” We were several miles away from the detonation.
“Can you?” was his soft reply.
Our hands were still touching, where I’d pulled his into mine, still warm against the cool night. Whatever courage I’d had a moment ago, however, had faded with the shimmering lights.
I can’t have him. This moment, this night, it would have to be enough.
If I wasn’t a witch… if I wasn’t this witch… if any number of strings of fate had been threaded differently, there could have been a future for us. In Greymere, I’d dreamed of nothing but seeing the sky again, the three moons. I’d dreamed of survival.
Raphael had shown me not just the sky, but that the sky could be more alive than I could’ve conceived. That I could be in a kingdom where humans and vampires and all manner of creatures coexisted. No, not coexisted—celebrated together.
The display grew more complicated. The initial explosions were no more than a brief prelude announcing the beginning of the show.
It started with circles, then stars, then the moons themselves, matching the exact phases of the night—a testament to the skill of the chemists and astronomers.
Other shapes followed, telling entire stories through ephemeral flashes.
We sat there for over half an hour in companionable silence, while I was continuously awed.
A series of cracks shot through the sky. Jagged wings, pointed ears—a bat.
I pointed with my other hand, giddy from the display. “That one’s you.”
He chuckled. “Only sometimes.”
It faded, a unicorn taking its place. Then a dragon, wide mouthed with several red explosions going off in sequence, perfectly timed to illustrate its flame before disappearing.
“How often do you turn?”
“Rarely. It’s a novelty, one ill-suited for a king who spends his time pampered in a palace.”
“Pampered? You?” I chuckled. Raphael might have access to every luxury, but pampered was the furthest thing from him. “More like ill-suited because the maids might swat you with a broom.”
He huffed a laugh. “That might have happened once or twice.”
I slapped a hand over my mouth. “No. Did they know it was you?”
“Thankfully, I was spared that indignity and escaped. I became more careful after that. Until my journey to the Witch Kingdom, I hadn’t taken that shape in more than a dozen years.”
“I think it would be fun,” I said. “Being another creature. Some witches can disguise themselves as animals, but it’s only an illusion. Though there’s shape-changers. They can truly turn into beasts?”
He nodded. “They can. Wolves, panthers, horses. For them, I understand it’s different. A soul split into two forms, each with their own feelings. For me, I’m still me, just with different senses. I retain all my reasoning.”
“Can I see you do it?” I asked impulsively.
He gave me a disbelieving look.
“Sorry. I’m just curious! I didn’t get to look closely when we were in the temple. You don’t have to.”
Raphael shook his head, pulling his hand away and running it through his hair. His eyes were light. “As you wish.”
The transformation was no more than a fraction of a second. One moment, Raphael was sitting beside me. The next, a fuzzy bat was there, flapping its wings.
He moved in loops, the light of the fireworks illuminating his outline. I giggled. The fearsome vampire king, a bat. When I’d learned he could do this, I’d been horrified.
Now, I just thought it was funny. He moved farther from the ledge, and despite my fear of falling, I leaned farther out to see him, kicking my legs in excitement.
I expected Raphael to return after a minute, having satisfied my curiosity, but he began to dive.
“Raphael!” I squealed before I could stop myself. Had he cramped? Were his wings injured? I couldn’t do anything to save him—
But at the last second, he snapped his wings out. Then, a second later, a man stood, feet planted in the sand. The water was only a few feet behind him, tame waves lapping against the shore.
“You scared me!” I yelled down at him. “Jackass.”
He laughed, stretching his arms out the way his wings had been. “There’s nothing to be scared of. Come join me.”
“I’ll break my neck!” It might heal, but it would hurt.
“You can do it,” he assured me. “I just did.”
“I don’t have wings,” I reminded him.
“You can do it.” Even with the eruptions of the fireworks, his voice carried up to my ears. “Trust yourself, Samara. You’re capable of more than you realize.”
I gnawed at my lip, looking back to where I’d left Alphonse tied. “What about the horses?”
“We’ll come back for them,” he assured me. “Jump, Samara.”
I stared at him, at the ground below. I could do several hasty calculations about how far the fall was, about what could happen to me.
Or I could jump.
I stood up on the ledge, sheathing my dagger, then backed up a few feet to give myself a running start. Then I flew.
Air whooshed by me, the second stretching into an age as my feet pushed off the dirt. I felt the very moment my body went to the air with nothing connecting it to the earth. I tucked my legs in, intending to fall into a roll.
But I never hit the ground.
Instead, strong arms snatched me from the air, and I landed against Raphael’s chest.
“Got you.” His voice brushed by my ear.
I looked up, half-annoyed, half-relieved. “You just told me I could do it and to have faith or whatever.”
“You could have,” he insisted. “But I wanted to catch you.”
That was Raphael, defined in an instant.
He wanted to show me I was capable, that I could take care of myself.
To teach me to wield a dagger, to ride a horse.
But he also wanted to protect me. To be the one who fought my enemies so my hands didn’t turn bloody.
To be the one I drank from so I didn’t have to take from another.
“You said you’d never been to the beach.” He set me down. “I figured tonight would be a good opportunity.”
“You planned that whole stunt?” I chided, even as I couldn’t stop myself from marveling at the sight. It was so different up close. Up on the cliff, it had seemed vast, distant darkness. Now I could feel the slight slap of the waves against the shore, feel the breeze rustling the hem of my pants.
“It wasn’t a stunt. It was an opportunity to get down here in a more expedient way.”
“It was absolutely a stunt.” But I couldn’t keep the grin off my face. On a whim, I slipped my shoes off, exploring the sand beneath my feet. It was surprisingly warm, even hours after the sun had set. Soft. I wriggled my toes in it, feeling the grains rise and fall between them.
I eventually remembered Raphael was there. A small smile was etched across his face.
“This is pretty amazing,” I admitted. The sand at my feet, the water in front, with the light still exploding into an unending series of lights. The coast was curved, so the rest of the celebration was out of view. It made the setting even more private than when we’d been sitting on the cliff.
Like the world was me and Raphael.
“Let’s go for a swim,” Raphael said.
I gave him a look. “I don’t know how.” Greymere had offered surprisingly few opportunities to take a jaunt into large bodies of water.
“I’ll show you,” he replied easily. “Don’t you want to?”
I wavered. I did want to. When would I get another opportunity like this?
“You did agree to indulge all your wants while we were here. You want to do this—to feel the sea salt surrounding you, the water relaxing your muscles. To swim with me.”
“Is this about the vow, then?” I asked, brow arched in mock accusation.
“This is about you experiencing a part of the world that’s been denied to you.” He curled his index finger under my chin, tilting my face just slightly toward him, and in turn, the water. “Come on, little viper. You didn’t come all this way to stand at the shore.”
Hadn’t I?
Two more nights. That’s what I had before it had to end.
“Okay. Let’s do it.”
Raphael’s grin widened. “There’s my brave viper.”
He stepped back and kicked off his boots.
Then, without taking his gaze off me, he pulled his shirt over his head.
I was treated to a sight: tightly corded muscle, evidence the king was a warrior.
The barest hint of hair on his chest teased me.
I’d seen it—slept beside it before—but fuck, it was a different sight with the moonlight playing in his hair, the sharp gleam of his red eyes as he watched my reaction.
I was so distracted I missed that his disrobing wasn’t ending there. His thumbs looped around the sides of his breeches.
“Raphael!” I screeched, slapping a palm over my eyes.
“You’re welcome to look,” he drawled, “given you find me decently attractive and all.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I snapped. Then I cracked my fingers, just slightly.
He’d already turned, beginning to wade to the water. Though the view from the back was no less riveting.
“I don’t want to get my clothing wet,” he said. “You wouldn’t want me to catch a chill, would you?” He twisted back, and I slid my fingers shut again, rolling my eyes.
“Of course, I wouldn’t want you to catch a chill either,” he continued.
Fine.