THIRTY-SIX #2
“You do.” His voice was rough. “You’ve proven it. The rain. What you do with your salt magick. And the truth compulsion. I believe your magick is just different. The Claiming doesn’t act on you, it acts through you. It recognizes the magick in your blood and has somehow bound itself to you and me.”
She clutched her throat. “So it’s been affecting me—us—since when?”
He shrugged.
“I deserve an answer, Zarek.”
“I can’t give you one, because I don’t know.
But I’m thinking… Your scream was the trigger for it.
I heard you, no—” He thumped his fist against his chest to fight the frustration of this entire situation.
“I felt your scream, like something had gripped my heart with icy fingers, when I was forty miles away from you. On the other side of your city.”
“That’s how—”
“I showed up. And I kept showing up.” He sighed, raking fingers through his hair.
“At first, I justified it with protocols to check on you because I couldn’t remove the memories.
I’d feel your nightmares, even when I was out on patrol in your realm and would come check on you.
Yes,” he said, glaring at her, “I was stalking you, and I hated myself for it.”
“When did you know what it was? And are any of these emotions real?”
And there lay the biggest question of all. What they were feeling, was it real or a result of the Claiming’s power over their magick?
“When I left you, after you’d healed my wounds from the Poison Blade.
” He pressed his hands to the place that didn’t even have a scar, but he still felt the scars of what this conversation was going to do to their future.
But she had a right to know. “That was when they—” He dropped his head, hands on hips, the weight making him pause.
“They, who?”
“My brothers. The Sworn Exarchs wanted to know who you were. I couldn’t even say your name. I just couldn’t, because I didn’t want to share you with anyone.” He shook his head, eyes closed. “Martar said your name, and…”
“You proclaimed Mine.”
“No, it wasn’t me. It was this dragon inside.” His lip curled into a snarl against this thing inside him. “It woke up and roared. Just like before, because you were angry, I wanted to tear heads off. But that time, my brothers wanted to know who helped me, and I didn’t want them to know.”
“Because you were worried what they’d do to me?”
“I was worried they’d take you away. Before that, I thought I was losing my mind, because I wanted to kill my brothers, but it was the Claiming that had sent a warning…”
He sighed, wiping a rough hand over his face. “Bellus and the ancestors found a long-forgotten passage in the Hidden Hall of Histories that explained the Claiming. I just hoped like hell it wasn’t affecting you.”
“So they brought me here for you?”
“No.” He frowned at her. “I brought you here for your protection. Orders.”
“By whose orders?” She took a step closer.
“Gellar. The Commander.”
“After they’d realized that you were being affected by this Claiming.” She narrowed her eyes at him, arms crossed. “Let me guess, it was Gellar who said to keep it a secret from me because of…”
“Your rejection.” The look she gave him was a kick to the heart that he felt all the way to his soul, as if they’d both been played by the Commander.
“I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say.
“But you knew it was affecting me.”
“I suspected. But I didn’t know for sure until—” He stopped, his hands curling into fists. “I’m sorry. I should have told you.”
“Why didn’t you? Forget it being orders for a second, why didn’t you tell me? Especially when it’s affecting us. Not them out there.” She pointed at the space between them that felt like a chasm made of carpet.
“Because I hoped I was wrong, and that you were immune and somehow safe from this.”
“But I’m not.”
Those words hit so hard that they paused, just looking at each other for answers he wished he could give. She was the last person he wanted to hurt.
“My mother used to say things happen for a reason. It’s what I’d tell myself whenever I lacked belief in so many other things.
Like I never believed in magic, and here we are…
” Angela moved away from him to the door.
“I don’t think your magick will ever hurt me.
I believe that, maybe, there’s a reason I can touch you and not get burned like the others.
It’s your actions as a person, on the other hand… ”
She looked at him with such sadness softening her features. Then she leveled him with that glare that he shouldn’t have found sexy.
Helviti. He was in trouble.
“The thing is, this feeling—Claiming, or whatever it is—that you’re feeling?
” Her voice dropped to a new level of pure vulnerability that tore at his soul.
“I feel it too. Where I want to rip off other women’s heads full of raging jealousy.
And I’ve never been a jealous person ever.
” She shook her head as if in pain. “I’ve never been this attracted to anyone either, like I am with you.
” She shrugged. “But, I guess we’re both adult enough to know what’s real and what isn’t, by now.
Don’t you think?” She didn’t wait for an answer, only shook her head, and reached for the door.
“So if you see it as a curse, so be it.” With her hand on the doorknob, she paused to give him a side glance.
“I guess that’s why I like my own company; it stops me from getting hurt.
I’m used to people ghosting me, all those dinner dates where I learned to eat alone, or those friends who made plans, only to never show up again, that I stopped trying.
” She opened the door and peered at him over her shoulder.
“It’s easier than being rejected, right?
Just like you’re doing with me right now. ”
She stepped into the doorway.
What! He was the one rejecting her?
Zarek moved.
In the blink of an eye, he vaulted across the room, pulled her back inside, and slammed the door shut.
“Screw the rules,” he growled.
And he kissed her.
All the want, the hunger, and centuries of isolation and discipline—gone.
He crushed his mouth to hers, his tongue sweeping into her mouth as power rippled between them.
Desire. Lust. Need. It made the Claiming roar to life, but beneath it was him.
Just him. Wanting her. She was right, he could tell that it was his own emotions, and not the Claiming’s at all.
The staves on his armor flared—not gold, but white—in a blinding flash of heat that seared through the air.
And then they vanished.
Zarek broke the kiss, breathing hard, his chest heaving as he held her by the arms.
The staves were as silent as the dragon inside. And for the first time in over three centuries, his magick wasn’t fighting him. It wasn’t straining against control or prowling along the edges, poking holes to break free.
The magick inside simply settled. Like it had gotten what it had been waiting for.
And for the first time, he understood.
His magick had known before he did. It had recognized her in the space between heartbeats, from the moment she’d walked into his world and said… There you are.
While he was the fool who’d taken this long to catch up.
Now it was her turn.
Angela stared up at him, lips parted, eyes wide.
He waited for her to pull away. To slap him. Or run.
But this wasn’t the Claiming. The Claiming would have taken and consumed without waiting for consent.
No, this was him. Choosing her. And praying she chose him back.