Chapter 19 #3
Glitters of light fall out of the leathery brown book as I open it.
I sit cross legged with the heavy book opened on my legs.
The tingle dances through me and a ball of light appears above the book, so that I don’t have to turn the big light on.
My eyes scan the pages, and I dive deep into the theories about dark and old use of magic.
I look up from my book, feeling him coming closer. Braxton did not decide to stay the whole night away.
Ha! I was right. The doors open and a tattooed body appears behind it.
“Hi.” I smile. He gives me a nod, takes off his clothes, showing off his goddess, toned artwork, what others would call a ripped body with ugly scars, and steps under the shower.
He is grumpy. My eyes track every trace of ink and muscle—every scar.
Every single one of them must tell a story.
A story I am excited to hear about once, if he will tell me.
He looks over his shoulders and without acknowledging I was definitely staring, he uses his signet to close the door with a stud.
My eyes focus on my book again.
Reading it is.
Braxton opens the door again and I don’t give him the opportunity to dress because I interrupt him with a speech bubble. The book woke something in me, and I need answers.
“Did you know the only sun wielder before me existed hundreds of years ago? She was never to be seen again? And what about that spirit animal everybody talked about around that time? What about them?” I rattle out in one breath.
He lifts one eyebrow and tilts his head.
Before he can answer, I am rattling again.
“Have you ever used your signet with your emotions as a source?” My eyes look up at him as he stands close to the bed.
His body glows in the light of the moon that is shimmering through the windows.
Out of the sudden a breeze blows, and a shiver stretches over my spine.
The droplets of water on him look like sparkles and his wet hair drips on the bed.
His muscles are formed perfectly and, again, a blush rises to my cheeks realizing how dumb I must look.
“Sorry, you probably don’t want to hear my questions,” I stutter, looking down at the book nervously and tapping my fingers on the mattress.
He narrows his eyes as I stutter and keep my gaze away from his.
“I have,” he answers. “But it is dangerous. In comparison to your signet, with mine not much can go wrong. I don’t do it often, only when I need to teleport something heavy.
” Surprise flickers in my eyes and my gaze finds his again.
“And no, I didn’t know about the other sun wielder, and I also did not know she disappeared at the same time as the manes,” he continues.
He rubs his fingers over his soft stubbles on his chin.
Dear god, I would love to know how those stubbles feel when they rub my skin raw.
No, Eliane, keep your head straight. You were talking about signets. And besides, what gods am I praying to? As far as I know, we have none.
“So you think I shouldn’t try it? You think I will lose control?” I quiz him, eyes tingling, but somewhere I feel kind of disappointed because of the fact he thinks I can’t do it. Just like he can read my mind, what he probably can and is doing at this moment, he responds.
“No, you should definitely try,” he answers, rubbing his temples as he walks to his side of the bed. “But I do think you should ask Fintan for help.” I nod my head in agreement. I shift so I face the door of the bathroom, my back pointing towards Braxton.
“Scared to see me change at once? Like you haven’t seen a man change before,” he huffs out, a low and raspy chuckle escaping his throat. Apparently, he keeps forgetting I have been locked away my whole life.
“I definitely have, duh,” I answer way too quickly. My voice is high and pitched and my ears must be as red as a tomato. I can feel his gaze scan me.
“Hmm,” he breathes out in a confused sound, like he found something very funny but doesn’t want to share the joke with me.
I give him a small peek over my shoulder.
His dimples are on the display, and he pulls the boxer up, his V lines still visible.
His eyes meet mine and he has the courage to smirk at me.
I turn my head as fast as I can, feeling like a kid who was caught taking candy out of the candy shop without paying first. I put the books away and crawl under the blankets in the warm bed.
Even after living with my da for over 16 years, he is kind of hard to find when you need him.
After brooding over the thing Braxton told me, I thought it was smart to finally ask Da about it.
I spot his broad shoulders in the sparring room, and the brown skin and tattoos visible beneath his shirt confirm it’s him.
I take a shaky breath. What if he thinks it’s too dangerous?
The one thing he fears most is me losing control.
But when he sees me walking toward him, his expression softens like rainbows and unicorns.
“Hi, Goldie, what’s up?” He smiles, opening his arms inviting me for one of those tight, warm, and cozy hugs he gives.
I can feel my face radiating worry. He narrows his eyes at me, waiting for me to speak up. “Da,” I start.
“I need you to teach me how to use my signet with my emotions as source and fierce.” He gives me a comforting squeeze in my shoulders.
“I thought you would never ask.” He smiles weakly.
“Wait,” I start, stepping out of his grip, looking up at him. “You’re not mad or going into defense why I shouldn’t do it?” My mouth opens, and my jaw hangs to the floor.
“No, silly,” he smiles, “I am scared, but you’re eighteen years old and if you come to me about it, it means you thought about it carefully.
Doing dangerous things isn’t bad, you just need to see the possible consequences first. And I think you do,” he explains, his voice softer than normal.
His eyes shine glossy and his expression changes to something he doesn’t show on a daily basis.
“I am really proud of you, Goldie,” he whispers.
He is proud of me.
I always know he is, but hearing those words does some crazy things to my guts. He wraps his arm around me, making me feel more confident by the second. “Let the training begin,” he announces, swallowing hard like he isn’t sure the correct words are leaving his lips.
“Let’s finally make you the fierce and weapon you’re meant to be.”