Chapter 29 Taera
Taera
“Taera.” Nikolai’s voice is low, controlled.
“What,” I demand, my voice hoarse. I stand as far from him as I can while still holding his desert-damned hand.
My gaze ricochets up the glassy walls that tower above us, across at the stupid statues, down the shimmering paths of the labyrinth that I can see—anywhere but at the magician whose palm is shackled to mine by black-powdered madness.
Realizing we’re just standing there, I start walking, pulling him after me.
“Relax.” Nikolai keeps up with me easily, making me scowl.
Relax? Relax? I’m trapped inside a glass maze, stuck holding hands with the magician who led me into it, the deceiver who changes his face in the blink of an eye. He’s everything I hate about magic. And now I have to keep touching him or itch like I’m stuck in a swarm of gnats.
“Taera.” He halts, jerking me to a stop.
“What?” I glare up at him, ready to unleash every curse I know.
He pinches his eyes shut, a pained crease to his brow.
Fear spikes through me. “What’s wrong?”
“It is taking all my focus,” he mutters, “to keep your magic in check. You’re a force of nature, Taera.”
“What do you mean ‘keep my magic’—”
He drags his free hand across his face. “Sources train to modulate their magic, so they only release a safe amount of it at once. That’s why it hurts when too much power bursts out against your will.”
“Well, what am I supposed to do?” I bite back. “You haven’t taught me anything.”
“I’m modulating it for you, but—” Nikolai’s voice is rougher than usual. He lets out a harsh breath. “Your emotions agitate your magic. If you calmed down, this would be a lot easier.”
I want to laugh and cry at the same time. He wants me to calm down? To make this easier for him?
“This is insane,” I mutter. It’s impossible to ignore the tingling warmth of his palm against mine.
“Just breathe, Taera,” he says.
I want to scream.
Nikolai frowns. “You’re not used to touch, are you?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” I try to turn away, but our arms link us.
“Holding hands,” he says. “It’s a big deal for you.”
How dare he comment on my love life, or lack thereof. I yank my hand out of his and take off down the corridor.
The itching slams back, and I clench my fists, ignoring the urge to ferociously scratch at the nonexistent bugs nibbling on me.
“Taera, wait!” Nikolai catches up with me in a few long strides. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t judging you.”
Huffing, I snatch up his hand again. The itching vanishes. The humiliation does not.
“Breathe, Taera,” he says. “Please.”
I like the way he says my name, and I hate that I like it. His pleading unsettles me. He’s supposed to be the cruel one, the untouchable one. I don’t want to affect him… but I do.
I wish I’d never stepped inside the labyrinth with him.
With soft, green eyes, Nikolai carefully guides my free hand to his chest. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and holding it. Then, slowly, he exhales. I feel the rise and fall of the red blouse—and his chest—under my fingers.
Gritting my teeth, I follow along. I don’t know how long we stand here, breathing in and out together, before the tension dissipates in his posture.
I open my eyes again. My anger and humiliation are still close to the surface, but they’re muted. Under control.
“What do we do now?” I mutter.
He sighs. “I still need to find something here in the labyrinth.”
“The grand prize?” I scowl. Of course he still wants to win.
“Not that.”
I blink. “What, then?”
Nikolai hesitates before meeting my gaze. “Will you help me?” he asks. It’s a request. A plea.
“Fine,” I grumble—because saying yes would feel too much like surrender.