CHAPTER FOURTEEN
That night, I dreamt of Irene. But for the first time in a very long time, it was not a bad dream.
Irene and ten-year-old me were snuggled up in the bed we had always shared, and she was gently ruffling my hair as she told me the story of Larimar the water spirit.
When she finished, I leapt from the bed, reached under the frame, and pulled out the necklace with the larimar stone.
The moonlight streaming through our bedroom window glinted off it, making it look especially spectacular.
And then I was my present day, twenty-year-old self, telling her all about my encounter with the water spirit. How I had given them their name.
Irene was amazed. She hugged me closer and exclaimed, “Look at the adventures you’re having! You have no idea how proud I am of you.”
Then I woke up.
The first thing I felt when I opened my eyes was that all-consuming grief.
The raw kind that only hits first thing upon waking, too quick to steel your mind against. When you remember that your reality is that that special person is gone.
I threw up those familiar mental walls against the storm of sorrow, stamping it down until it was this manageable thing that I could shove back behind its designated door.
As my eyes adjusted to the gray glow of morning, still hours before I needed to meet Brielle to walk to work, I reflected on the dream. I started to feel a new emotion, one that took me by surprise.
Gratitude.
Then I remembered who was sleeping next to me.
Sometime in the night, I had rolled back to my own pillow and was facing the wall. I wondered if Kieran was awake.
I didn’t have to wonder for long. Suddenly his arm snaked around my front, pulling me back into his warmth.
“How’d you sleep?” His voice was a lazy rumble in his throat.
“I slept great.” I couldn’t remember the last time I had slept so soundly. “How about you?”
“Same,” he said with a yawn. His exhale tickled my ear.
I remembered a time, a few years ago, when Brielle overslept and I had to hurry upstairs to her floor and wake her for her work assignment.
She had opened the door groggy and confused.
But the braid that she wore to bed was mussed in the most flattering way, with a few stray wisps here and there that looked like they had been deliberately styled that way.
Her cheeks had an equally flattering flush from waking from a deep sleep.
I was wishing with everything I had that when Kieran had a chance to see me full-on, that that was how I looked this morning.
“I’m glad you slept well,” Kieran said. He sounded more awake now, and a bit like he was looking for something to say.
“I dreamt about my sister,” I replied, surprising myself with the fact that I wanted to share that with him. “I dream about her often, but usually not in a good way. I have nightmares where I replay the day she died over and over. But last night was different. It was a happy dream.”
Kieran was quiet. Listening.
“I think the reason I dreamt about her was because you’re here. Which sounds weird, but we used to share a bed when I was growing up. I haven’t felt this close to someone since she died.”
Kieran was still silent.
Suddenly feeling nervous about everything I had shared, I rolled over to face him.
His eyes were luminous in the morning light.
Was there any lighting that didn’t make his eyes look absolutely spectacular?
His dark hair had the Brielle muss—gently tousled bedhead— that only made him look sexier.
The cuts and scratches on his face from the previous night did nothing to detract from how handsome he was.
“I dream about my family sometimes, too,” he said quietly. “I promise I’ll tell you more about them one day. I just…” He trailed off, then let out a frustrated breath. “I just really fucking hate talking about them.”
“It’s okay.” I wanted to touch his face, but my nerves got the better of me and I touched his arm instead. “You can tell me whenever you’re ready. No rush.”
He watched me for a moment, then inhaled deeply. “They’re from Oryx. My father’s people.”
I stilled. “Where is Oryx?”
“It doesn’t have a physical location.” He looked up as if searching for the right words. “I mean, it does, but it doesn’t. It’s hard to explain.”
It was my turn to be quiet now, waiting patiently for whatever he felt comfortable sharing with me.
“The Oryxians are protectors, in a sense.” He twirled a strand of my hair as he spoke.
“The world that merged with the human world has its own circle of life. But it’s more fragile.
More volatile. The Oryxians keep everything in balance.
And now that ‘everything’ includes the human world, too.
So they not only maintain the balance in their own world, but have to maintain it between the two merged worlds as well. ”
“That’s what The Awakening was, then? Two worlds merging?” I could barely keep the excitement out of my voice.
He chuckled softly. “I’m not an expert on this stuff. You know more about magic than I do. I just know a few things from my parents.”
My excitement twisted into something more akin to dread, as further implications of what he had said dawned on me. “That explorer, Matthew. If an Oryxian interfered…if they killed him and his group…his intentions weren’t good, were they? That’s what you were hinting at before?”
“It was.” He smiled grimly. “It’s probably hard for you to understand, since you’re one of the only people in Cyllene who is allowed to really know details about magic beyond just ‘It’s out there and it’s scary.
’ But your Council pretty much hates magic.
They use it when they have to, like with the wards, but they’re always searching for a way to shift things back to how they were before, Pre-Awakening. ”
“I do understand that,” I said quietly. Like so many things, The Council didn’t state that outright, but they didn’t exactly hide their intentions either.
It’s not like magic was ever talked about in a positive light.
“Magic is a threat to humanity. You know that better than anyone, living Outside.”
“Sure,” Kieran agreed. “But we lose just as many people to starvation and untreated illnesses and injuries as we do to magic-related incidents. Don’t think for a second that all of us in Ersa Estates have something against magic.
Our problem is not being given a fair shot at survival, magic or no magic. ”
A long silence followed. After what he had just said, nothing else felt worth saying. I was imagining he must be feeling the same, when he suddenly spoke again.
“I want you to know that I haven’t been this close to anyone, either.” Then, “I mean, I guess you could say that I’ve been close to women, in a sense…in other ways.”
The reminder that he had had many romantic partners was a physical sting.
It was hypocritical, I knew. But I couldn’t help the emotion that swelled in me.
Images flashed through my mind of the faceless, nameless women who had come before.
Of Xiomara. Of him kissing them. Holding them.
Doing things with them that I probably couldn’t even imagine.
“But not like this,” he said sharply. His fingertips grazed my cheek, my chin, my mouth. “I’ve never shared a bed with someone all night, same as you. Or had these kinds of conversations. Told someone about my family beyond what they figured out on their own. Or…everything else. It’s different.”
“Why is that?” I asked softly. “Why are things different with me?”
His stare took on an intensity then that made me wonder if I had asked something I shouldn’t have.
Then he leaned in and touched his lips to mine.
I didn’t hesitate. I kissed him back. And it was like a hunger that had been building in me since the first night we kissed was finally being satisfied. At the same time, a new and different one was forming.
My palm pressed against his bare chest as his hand caught my leg, pulling me further against him. Only moments later, he was on top of me. His lips, hands, body were everywhere at once.
Last time, there had been a sense of urgency, like we couldn’t wait a single second longer to give in to our feelings for each other.
But this time it was almost frantic. As if one or both of us were about to disappear into thin air, and we were trying desperately to memorize every single thing about each other.
Just like before, he ran his hands over me, exploring, grinding his hips against mine. And just like before, his name escaped my lips. But this time, he didn’t stop. He ground his hips against me again. And again. Over and over until my body was trembling.
“Maila,” he murmured against my lips. “I really don’t think you understand how sexy you are.”
Before I could even think of what to say to that, his tongue was pressing against mine again, hot and full of that taste that was purely him.
Then his tongue found my jaw. My neck. His mouth continued to travel down, trailing soft licks.
It found my breasts over the thin fabric of my nightgown, and I gasped when I felt the graze of his teeth.
Then he was trailing kisses across my stomach, leaving heat and gentle tingling in their wake.
Before I knew it, he was crouched in front of me, hands resting on my thighs, fingertips brushing the edge of my nightgown. He was still, looking up at me expectantly from under hooded eyes.
I realized after a beat that he was seeking permission.
I gave him a quick nod.
Then I raised onto my elbows, lifting my arms overhead. In one movement, he had my nightgown off. I heard the soft swish as it sailed through the air and hit the floor.
Another soft sound of fabric hitting the floor. This time it was my underwear.
Then Kieran backed off the bed, standing to remove his boxers.