57. Ryker
Ryker
I wake to Raea’s skin burning through mine—and through the shirt she’s wearing—realizing with a jolt that she’s still asleep. With all the talk about her magic, I can’t help but think she’s dreaming about it. I try to wake her, but she doesn’t respond.
I used to be able to cool her down, but this magic isn’t the same as the energy she channeled from Sgya. Still, I wrap my arms around her, frantic to keep her from burning through the sheets.
I still have little control over my own magic, but rain and wind will do less damage than her burning everything to the ground.
I call upon the blue strands, visualizing a cool torrent to wash over her, but the moment the water hits her skin, the room erupts in a wall of white steam.
It hisses like a thousand snakes, scalding my throat and blinding me.
“Fuck,” I hiss, waving through the hot fog. “Soraea, love, wake up!”
I pull her from the bed and lay her on the cool stone floors.
She doesn’t even stir. I reach for the bridge between our souls, but I slam into a shimmering, shifting Veil.
It is clear like water but as solid as diamond.
It’s as if her magic has built a fortress around her mind to keep the dream from escaping—or to keep the world from getting in.
I hammer against it, but the surface only ripples, cold and indifferent to my panic.
My flesh burns, and she’s almost too hot to touch. I hate the idea of hurting her, but I tap her face a little harder than normal. “Stop, Soraea. You need to wake up!”
When she still doesn’t respond, I pull on the cord of white, filling the room with a cool breeze. It’s enough to keep the room from becoming stifling, but not enough to cool her down.
I need to get her out of here. I need to get to the ocean. I stifle a groan as I heave her into my arms. The smell of singed cotton and scorched flesh fills the small room, but I don't let go. Her skin brands me, leaving white-hot welts along my forearms and chest.
My own magic surges in response, a frantic hum beneath my skin trying to knit me back together even as she unmakes me. I am a walking contradiction of fire and healing, running through the silent halls toward the scent of salt.
If I had still been human, this wouldn’t have worked despite always having quicker-than-normal healing abilities.
Right now, I have a little extra time before the pain causes me to black out.
I don’t stop running when I reach the gardens.
It’s too close, and I need water. Water to cool her down and water to help me heal faster.
Carys had told me that water helps us regenerate our magic faster, and there’s a whole ocean of it ahead. I take the alternate route that leads to the private beach and away from the soldiers still encamped here.
By tomorrow, they should all be gone. There are only a few tents left, but once our friends return after their awakening, the soldiers will be dismissed to return to their families.
“Wake up, love. I need you to wake up, Soraea.”
I don’t have to look to know I have burns covering my arms and chest. I know she could never live with herself if she hurt anyone. She won’t be happy that she hurt me, but hopefully I can heal before she notices.
After she hurt Sienna, she had thought herself a monster.
I don’t know what this would do to her, and I don’t plan to find out.
With another step, my feet meet water as the rising tide pushes further in.
I keep walking until I’m waist-deep and then sink below, careful to keep her head above the waves.
The ocean rises into steam around us. I let her go, instead resting her head on my chest so that the water can cool her down. She still hasn’t woken.
After an hour of holding her in the water, her magic finally ebbs. It’s terrifying how deep her magic runs. I’m terrified for anyone to find out. Maybe I shouldn’t be, but I don’t want her to be at risk, and I don’t want her to be used as a weapon.
Not by the gods. Not by kings. Not by anyone.
When the last of her magic seems to seep from her body, I cradle her to my chest, thankful that I’ve mostly healed. My skin is angry and red, but the burns and welts that covered my torso and arms are gone.
As we leave the water, she shivers and it’s not long before her eyes flutter open. “What…what are you doing?” she asks, still half asleep.
I don’t want her to worry. “Go back to sleep, Soraea. I’ve got you.”
She hums, burying her face into my neck as I wrap my arms around her, sending a warm breeze to keep her cocooned.
I nearly laugh when what sounds like a purr leaves her. Dawn is still a few hours away when I settle her back in bed, quickly cleaning up the evidence of what happened. I know I will need to talk to her about it tomorrow, but right now, she needs to sleep.
Once the shirt is in the trash and my flesh is mostly healed, I crawl into bed behind her, kissing her shoulder.
Loving her has never been dangerous. The danger is what lengths I’m willing to go to keep her safe.
As my eyes close, finally ready for sleep to find me again, I feel another burn on my forearm.
My eyes snap open to a low, rhythmic thrumming, like a distant drumbeat beneath my skin.
On my forearm, a new rune blooms in silver fire.
It glows with a fierce, lunar light, the parallel lines and hooked ends bisected by waves that move if I look too closely.
I pull back the blankets to find Raea’s back shimmering in response—her gold meeting my silver.
So we’ve completed another sadistic rune trial.
How many are there?
Raea’s eyes won’t stop watering every time she looks at the rune on my arm. Her guilt feels like my own, flooding me with the same intensity. We’re meeting Finn and Carys to train in a few minutes. Brynna will be ushering our friends to the field once they’ve had a moment to bathe and change.
We still haven’t seen them, and I know Soraea is as anxious as I am to make sure they’re okay, but also to find out which race they belong to. While Raea and I had known, our friends were not given any indication.
I’m surprised when several warriors, both Fae and Elven, stand in a group when we exit the gateway with Carys. She leads us to the group, introducing us. There are a few familiar faces we’ve seen over the past few weeks.
Before I’m pulled away to the opposite side of the field, I ask Carys to give Raea and me a minute. The group of warriors disperses with a plan in place as I pull Raea to the side, behind a shed used to store some of the weapons and weights for training.
The sky is stormy and overcast, mirroring Raea’s mood. She doesn’t fight me when I lift her into my arms, locking her ankles behind me.
“Raea,” I say softly. “I told you it was nothing. I made sure you were cooled down.”
Maybe it's wrong to keep the full truth from her, but she doesn’t need to know how badly I was hurt. Telling her the basics was enough.
Her white hair ripples in the breeze, flowing across her green eyes. “I didn’t know, and my dream—” She shakes her head, blowing out a long breath. “What would have happened if I had hurt you? Or hurt anyone else?”
“You didn’t.” I sigh, knowing it’s going to take time. “That’s what today is about. You just need to practice and get control, okay?”
She nods as I press a long kiss to her forehead before letting her body slide to the ground.
She heads off to where Finn is speaking with a group of Elven warriors clad in leather armor.
Their cuirass is stamped with a symbol I don’t recognize, their bracers tied with more leather.
Finn hands Raea her own set before introducing her to the others gathered.
I head to where Carys and Riven are waiting with Vaeric and the others.
“I thought we might as well test out what you’re capable of and then work from there,” Carys says.
When I nod, one of the Fae warriors throws a type of forcefield around us. It’s a large dome that covers the air high above the trees, all the way into the field of grass.
Riven steps toward me. “Kahtesh, here—” He gestures to the male behind him with the pinched features. “—can sense the power of your magic and whether you’ve reached full capacity.”
I shove my hands into my pockets. “So what exactly am I doing?” I look around taking in each of their features, cataloging them. “Am I supposed to summon a specific type of storm? I’ve never done that.”
Riven shakes his head. “We just want you to do whatever you’re able to do.”
Blowing out a long sigh, I take a few steps back and one of the females snorts. Whatever. Honestly, I don’t give a shit about anyone else’s opinions. I’m secure enough to not need their validation. I already have enough from my mate and best friend.
I close my eyes, and like every single time since I met with the village elders in the Ancestor Isles, I look for those strands of light that connect me to my magic.
I open my eyes as I pull on the blue strand for water.
Rain feels like a safe bet to start with.
I look to the skies, to the dome overhead, and watch as rain falls at the same time clouds form.
It would seem that the clouds don’t need to be fully formed before the water falls.
“More,” Kahtesh says.
I pull hard, and then reach for the white strand for wind. The two resemble a hurricane. The Fae who created the forcefield quickly throws another one up around their group, leaving me alone in the downpour.
Through the wind and rain, I hear Kahtesh. “More. You’re holding back.”
I grit my teeth, tugging harder, not understanding what else he wants. Another strand shimmers, but before I can reach it, it disappears. Exhaustion settles in as I release my hold and the storm stops in an instant.
Kahtesh steps out from the group. “You had more.” He has the audacity to get in my face as if he can scare me into a different outcome.
“I suggest you take a step back,” I respond cooly.
Kahtesh steps so close I can taste the stale air on his breath.
He is looking for a crack in the 'human' prince, but he’ll never find one.
I don't pull my hands from my pockets. Instead, I let the air around us grow heavy and static, the hair on his arms stand as the sharp scent of ozone thickens. I offer him a slow, jagged grin.
The male before me looks seconds away from attempting to pummel me. Let him. I could use a good fight. It’s been too long and gods know I have enough things to work out.
“Stand down, Kahtesh,” Vaeric barks, stepping forward. His grumpy face turns to me. “Let’s go again.”