Chapter 14 Rhianelle #4
“The locking mechanism engages too quickly. When she tried to flap, it threw off her balance because the joints couldn’t adjust fast enough.” He sketches a second hinge beside the first. “I need to add some kind of dampener. Something that allows for minor adjustments mid-flight.”
I nod like I understand half of what he just said. “Can I help?”
Now he looks up, surprise clear on his face. “You want to help?”
“If you’ll let me.” I move to stand beside him, close enough that I can see the designs he’s sketching. “I want to understand how it works.”
I feel my face go warm and I look down at the parchment instead of at him. “I want to help her fly.”
Something softens in his expression. “All right. Metalwork is hot and dangerous. One careless movement can cost you a finger.”
I’ve sneaked around Hellios’s volcano once or twice in Astefar.
“I’ll try not to lose any fingers.” I hold his gaze until he looks away first. “I promise I’ll be careful.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” Amusement warms his voice.
He gestures me closer to the anvil, where a small piece of metal is heating in the coals. “First lesson, never touch anything without checking if it’s hot first.”
I laugh despite myself. “Noted.”
“Second lesson, listen to instructions.”
“Also noted.”
“Third lesson…” He pulls the glowing metal from the coals and sets it on the anvil. “Metalwork is all about rhythm and patience. Watch.”
Arescaine picks up the hammer and begins to work. I watch the hammer rise and fall, mesmerized despite myself. Nothing about his movements is wasted. The metal slowly changes shape under his hands, bending to his will.
“Now you try,” he says, offering me the hammer.
I take it, surprised by its weight. “Just... hit it?”
“Just hit it.” A quiet warmth touches his face. “Aim for where you want the metal to move.”
I raise the hammer and bring it down. The clang echoes through the forge, and the metal barely dents.
“Harder,” Arescaine says with a smirk.
I try again. This time, the metal moves slightly, flattening where I struck it.
“Better.” He moves behind me, and suddenly his hand is on mine, guiding my grip. “Hold it here. Let the weight carry the strike and focus on where you want it to land.”
His body is close. I can feel the heat of him against my back. His hand wraps around mine, large and strong. Together we lift the hammer.
“Now,” he murmurs, his voice low and close to my ear.
We bring the hammer down together and the metal flattens perfectly.
“Like that,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “See? You’re a natural.”
His hand remains wrapped around mine, keeping me close against him. Suddenly, I cannot breathe.
This feels familiar. We’ve stood like this before, his hand on mine, his breath warm against my neck. This is something we’ve done a thousand times.
For one impossible heartbeat, his arms feel like the place where I belong.
I turn my head slightly.
Arescaine is right there. Close enough that I can see the faint gold hidden within his dark eyes. His gaze drops to my mouth.
Neither of us moves away.
The forge seems to quiet around us. Even the fire fades to a distant crackle. His grip loosens, but his hand remains around mine. He lowers his face by the smallest degree.
A few inches. That is all that separates us.
If I leaned forward, our mouths would meet.
My lips part. His breath ghosts across them, warm and impossibly close. A soft gasp catches in my throat.
Stop. I can’t do this.
I jerk away like I’ve been burned. The hammer clatters to the ground. My heart slams against my ribs. I can’t stop shaking.
“I’m sorry,” I stammer.
I do not know what else to say. I only know that I need to put distance between us before I do something unforgivable.
Something like kissing a vampire who isn’t my mate.
This pull between us feels too strong to be simple attraction. But I will never betray Landon.
“Rhianelle—” Arescaine starts, but I’m already backing toward the door.
“Thank you. For the lesson and for Coral. For everything.” The words tumble out too fast. “I should go. I have… things. Important things.”
I see the hurt flicker through his eyes before he locks it away. I hate that I put it there. “Of course. Your Highness.”
The title stings more than it should, but perhaps the distance is necessary. I need walls between us before this feeling becomes something neither of us can undo.
I grab the sword, Hrolf’s beautiful and precious gift, and I go.
Out of the forge, into the evening light.
I walk quickly at first, pretending I am not fleeing. By the time I reach the end of the street, my steps have become a run. I race through the narrow roads of Volundr, past startled merchants.
I do not slow until the forge is far behind me and the palace rises ahead. Only then do I stop, breathless and shaking beneath the fading sky.
I enter the gates and press my back against the stone wall. It scares me, the sense of familiarity that comes alive inside my chest whenever I look at him.
I press my fingers against my mouth.
We did not kiss. I stopped it before anything happened.
So I do not understand why my lips still tingle with the phantom memory of a kiss that never came.