Chapter 4 #2
I want to answer. I want to say I did not want to be a burden, but I swallow the words and they leave a bitter aftertaste.
“Do you regret it?” he asks.
“Of course I do,” I snap. The hurt on his face breaks my heart.
I jerk up, searching for words to explain that I was the happiest I’d ever been when he offered me mating. But how could I dare to be happy when they all died because of me?
“That is settled then,” he says, venom dripping from his words.
“Are we done then?” I ask, lacking the energy to continue this conversation.
Wow, you are mature as hell, Aidon’s mental voice says.
My power stirs, ready to defend me. I do not want it to act on its own. Knowing I cannot control it fully, I let a small orb of light form in my hand.
Now I have to roll with it, or I will look even more ridiculous.
“I do not recommend taking a step closer, I do not want to hurt you,” I hiss.
I am supposed to be an architect, destined to inherit the ability to create entire cities on a whim, like Gorok, my creator. Instead, my power is a menace. From the first moment it awakened, it twisted into something ugly.
The light is a basic skill for children, but while Arken power is supposed to be a calming breeze, mine is a fucking storm. I don’t know what makes me so defective compared to other Beriganders.
I have zero self-control. If I wield it inside the building, I will destroy something. He must know it better than anyone, but at this moment, letting it act out is easier than having a grown-up conversation.
“What are you going to do? Kill us?” Jestin spits. His mask is slipping.
My power erupts as my non-existent control slips. The windows shatter.
I rush to cover my face, but Jestin is quick. He waves his hand, and the glass turns to sand. The shards freeze in mid-air before falling harmlessly to the ground in granules.
The room becomes instantly hot, and not just because of the desert air.
Aidon’s Fae-form appears between myself and Jestin. He changed shape mid-flight so fast I didn’t even notice the sound of bones snapping.
“I recommend taking a step back, Sunny Boy,” Aidon says, his hands in his pockets — arrogant, but undeniably sexy.
“Jestin is right,” I reply.
Grains of sand gather around us, responding to Jestin’s emotions.
I shrink back, desperately trying to control the storm within me. The magic tastes sour in my mouth, ready to take down anyone who upsets me. I force it back down into the well and summon a wary smile, pretending it was my goal all along.
I know I do not fool him.
“You could have said something. I would have given you space.” Jestin is gritting his teeth. “There is nothing I would not have given you. You just needed to trust me.”
I wince.
I deserve it, but it still hurts. My haunted memories surface without my consent, and Aidon flinches when he sees them.
I only watch as he observes my darkest moments.
I should feel anger, but only resignation seeps in.
My fingers clench into tight fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms, as I focus on schooling my features, refusing to shed a single tear in front of these males.
After a long moment, Aidon nods towards Jestin. Their gazes lock for what feels like an eternity.
They are clearly talking about me.
Judge me.
I glance at my satchel, tempted to reach for my flask, but decide against it. Jestin would throw a fit if I did.
I sit and lower my head, a coward, unworthy of the title I bear.
Finally, Jestin kneels before me and takes my stiff hand. One heartbeat, and I would pull away. I do not. His other hand lifts my chin, drawing me closer, and I have no fight left.
“I should not have said that. I am sorry. My words did not carry the meaning I intended.” His hand traces the line of the brand on my wrist; his touch feels like unworldly acceptance.
Or is it something else? I do not care, as long as it soothes the storm inside me.
“I am sorry too,” I whisper.
Relief softens his face. The anger and the hurt are stalling.
I need to thank Aidon for stepping up. Whatever he said changed Jestin’s course of action.
Before I can muster the courage, Jestin’s familiar smile returns, one side of his lips tilting upward.
Thank you, Gorok.
Though Fae always get even, they also hold grudges. This time, I seem to have gotten away with two tantrums.
“Your friend says you do not regret what we did,” he remarks, raising an eyebrow as if we had not argued mere heartbeats ago.
I blush but don’t protest. I am happy he knows without my needing to say it. Instead, I settle into our familiar teasing banter.
“If you let us use your accommodations, Lord Navatian,” I say, adding extra sass, “maybe we can discuss resuming those activities.”
I am, in fact, shameless.
“Your chambers are ready. I also emptied the blue room for your guest,” Jestin says, winking and pivoting to leave, but lingering by the door.
“Sels, I know Samira has already told you, but Chief Gerald is in the palace.”
My heart races. He studies me, expression solemn.
I do not reply. I do not react.
He sighs. “I thought you should know. He will be gone by morning. Best to avoid the formal wing.”
He lingers, opening the door for me to exit his chambers. The simple gesture feels like a promise. He leans close, whispering in my ear. “Please stay.”
I have no response.
My body is locked in fight or flight. How can I sleep now?
I let him trap me here. Leaving the palace would involve risking a confrontation with Chief Gerald.
I’m not ready for that. Who knows where he’s lurking?
I could bump into him on my way out. The Chief is the only Fae who has witnessed what I’ve done.
His eyes, dark pools of anguish and judgment, threaten to unravel me with a single glance.
I would move mountains to avoid meeting them, to escape even the slightest hint of his attention, knowing that facing him is more terrifying than any punishment I could endure.
At least my room is not far from Jestin’s, so I can sneak out and barricade myself in there.
“Bring me wine,” I order him.
“Of course, My Lady,” Jestin replies, giving me a small bow. His tone is formal, but the subtle shake of his head tells me what he really thinks about that. Still, he’ll fulfil my request, and that’s what matters.