Chapter 7 Keira #2
The rawness in his voice catches me off-guard. I turn to look at him properly, seeing past the careful composure to the grief he carries. The helplessness of watching someone die slowly and being unable to stop it despite all his knowledge and power.
"You're doing everything you can," I say softly.
"It's not enough." His jaw tightens. "It's never enough."
"No." The word is gentle, understanding. "It never is. But it still matters. You being here, trying, not giving up—it matters to Daryn. To Amisra." I pause, something honest escaping before I can stop it. "To me."
He turns then, violet eyes finding mine with an intensity that steals my breath. "Does it?"
"Yes." The admission costs me something. Pride, maybe. Or the safety of pretending I don't feel the pull between us. "You're... you're good to them. Good with her. That's not nothing."
"I want to be good to you too." He says it simply, like offering me water when I'm thirsty. Not demanding or presumptuous, just stating a truth. "If you'll let me."
My heart does something complicated in my chest. A flutter and clench that feels dangerously close to hope. "Valas—"
"I know." He shifts slightly closer, not crowding but reducing the distance. "I know you don't trust easily. That you have every reason not to trust me specifically. I'm not asking for anything except—" He pauses, seeming to weigh his words. "Except maybe a chance. To be your friend. To know you."
Someone I'd very much like to know. That's what he'd said in the kitchen, words that have lived in my head ever since. And now he's saying it again, rephrasing, making it clear he meant it.
"We're already friends." The words escape before I can examine them too closely. "Aren't we? Sort of?"
His expression brightens, something relieved and warm transforming his features. "I'd like to think so. Though I wasn't sure you agreed."
"I didn't. At first." I look back toward where Amisra is showing Daryn a leaf, her voice carrying on the breeze. Easier to admit this without those violet eyes on me. "But you're... different than I expected. Different than—"
"Than other dark elves?" He finishes when I trail off.
"Yes." It sounds prejudiced when said aloud. But also honest. "You don't act like you own everything around you. Don't treat people like possessions."
"Because I don't." His knee presses against mine again, and this time there's no question of it being accidental. "You're not a possession, Keira. Not to me."
"No?" I turn back to him, searching his face. "Then what am I?"
"Someone sitting next to me in sunshine," he says quietly. "Someone who makes terrible jokes seem funny because she laughs at them. Someone who's brave and kind and makes Amisra feel safe." His expression softens further. "Someone I think about more than I probably should."
The confession lands between us like something fragile. Precious. And terrifying.
"Valas—"
"Uncle Val!" Amisra's voice interrupts, saving me from having to respond. "Come do magic! Show Keira the light thing!"
"The light thing?" I manage, grateful for the distraction even as disappointment flickers through me.
"You'll see." He pushes to his feet in one fluid motion, offering me his hand. "Come on. Can't disappoint our audience."
I stare at his outstretched hand for a heartbeat too long. Then I take it, letting him pull me up. His grip is warm and sure, and he doesn't let go immediately. Just holds on for a moment longer than necessary, thumb brushing across my knuckles in a touch that's definitely deliberate.
"Is this going to be impressive?" I ask, trying to ignore how my pulse races.
"Depends." His smile turns playful, teasing in a way I haven't seen before. "What impresses you?"
"I'm not easily impressed."
"Challenge accepted." He finally releases my hand, moving toward where Amisra is bouncing impatiently. "Watch carefully, starlight. I wouldn't want you to miss anything."
Starlight. The endearment catches me off-guard, settles somewhere warm beneath my ribs. I hadn't expected him to use it again. I follow him across the grass, aware of Daryn watching us with a small smile that knows too much.
Valas crouches down near Amisra, hands held out in front of him. "Ready?"
"Ready!" She claps her hands together.
Magic gathers in the air—I can feel it even without the ability to use it myself, a change in pressure that makes my skin tingle. Light blooms between his palms, starting as a soft glow and then growing, shifting, taking shape.
A bird. He's creating a bird made entirely of luminescence, wings spread in flight. It hovers above his hands, moving as though alive, and Amisra gasps with pure delight.
"More!" she demands.
He glances back at me, something challenging and warm in his eyes. Then he creates another bird. And another. Until the air around us is filled with them, dozens of light-birds wheeling and diving in an intricate dance.
It's beautiful. More than beautiful—it's magic used not for power or control but for joy. For making a little girl laugh and her father smile and—
And for impressing me, I realize as Valas meets my eyes again. This whole display is as much for me as it is for Amisra.
"Well?" He's still crouched but somehow manages to look infuriatingly confident. "Impressed yet?"
"Maybe a little," I admit, fighting my own smile.
"Only a little?" He makes a gesture and the birds swoop toward me, circling before dispersing into sparkles of fading light. "I'll have to try harder."
"Is that what you're doing?" The words come out more flirtatious than intended. "Trying to impress me?"
"Is it working?"
Daryn laughs from where he's sitting, the sound knowing and amused. I glance over and catch him watching us with that same small smile, satisfaction written in every line of his face.
Heat floods my cheeks. I turn away, suddenly aware of how this must look. Aware of how much I want it to look exactly like it does—like something blooming between us despite every reason not to let it.
My heart flutters traitorously, and I realize with startling clarity that I'm in trouble. The kind of trouble that starts with brushing knees and shared glances and ends with being completely, hopelessly undone.