Chapter 70 Taera
Taera
“We’re both staying in this room?” I make myself ask.
“If you’re okay with that.” He turns around and faces me.
I’m flustered, and—to my horror—excited.
I chastise myself for it. But I can’t deny that part of me wants to share the too-small bed with Nikolai, even if I know I shouldn’t.
Everything between us is supposed to be over.
Not that I’m good at sticking to my own rules.
Nikolai watches me, noticing my hesitation.
“If this is too… intimate, I’m sure Hazel wouldn’t mind if you asked to cuddle up with her. I’d offer, but her bed is so short I hit my head.”
I would rather cuddle with her brother, my traitorous mind offers unprompted. I tell it to shut up.
“I don’t mind,” I say, too high-pitched to sound natural. He smirks, and I wonder whether he’s flustering me on purpose. Does it make me a terrible person if I like it?
Despite discovering his soft side with his sister, I’m still frightened of what Nikolai might do to me.
Not that I think he would hurt me physically.
But he’s still a magician, as well as the perfect liar.
Wanting him has always been a bad idea. And now, I can’t deny my nagging worry that for him, none of this is real. Some of it must be, but which parts?
But I’m caught in his emerald gaze, struck by the urge to do something for him. I swallow, suddenly nervous.
“Maybe my magic could help Hazel,” I say.
Nikolai’s expression flickers with sadness, something I don’t expect.
“You’ve already done so much for your sister,” I continue. “I’d like to help.”
“Taera,” he says, then clears his throat. His features are carefully neutral, shielding any emotions. “Thank you.”
Smiling, I step closer. Then, in a burst of bravery, I slip my arms around his waist, rest my head against his shoulder. I’m sure he can feel my admiration, my sorrow, my compassion. He makes a small, appreciative sound. Then, his arms wrap around me, and he buries his face in my hair.
I’m moved that he’s willing to just hold me and be held by me like this. Nikolai is always striving for something, always wearing a facade. Always wielding his blade of a mind and carrying the burden of protecting me. And his sister. For once, he’s letting himself rest.
When we finally part, his eyes are distant. He clears his throat. “Are you going to change?”
“I, um, don’t have much to change into.” I look down at my traveling clothes, my only clothes, self-conscious. My body looks rather blockish.
“Here.” He touches my arm, eliciting a pulse of magic, and a ribbon of blue flows like a waterfall from his fingertips, stretching down to the floor. It solidifies into magicians’ robes. My eyes widen.
“I can’t wear those. They’re nothing but magic,” I say.
“That didn’t stop you from wearing those dresses I made you.” He smirks, and my cheeks burn.
“Those were for a special occasion. What if you forget to keep it illusioned, or you fall asleep, or get distracted?”
He smirks. “Are you planning to distract me?”
“Of course not—” I glower, trying to conceal how fast my heart is beating at the prospect.
“Taera.” His amused gaze bears down on me. “Have you ever seen my illusions slip?”
I swallow. “No.”
I’m embarrassed for doubting him. I know how powerful he is. But his question reminds me of what his mom said.
“Do you ever take them off?” I ask.
“My clothes?” He raises his brows, smirk returning.
“The illusions.”
His smile falls away. “No.”
“Why—”
His expression turns icy, and I stop myself. After a moment of silence, however, his features soften again.
“Magicians’ robes are just an illusion.” He shifts the topic seamlessly. “You think the others are any different?”
“You’re not wearing anything?” My eyes bulge, and my thoughts grind to a halt. I glance down at the blue fabric covering his body, then jerk my gaze away. This whole situation is suddenly indecent.
He shrugs. “It’s easiest to roll out of bed naked every morning and conjure whatever I’m going to wear. It’s also a show of power.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I try to wrap my head around the implications, horror dawning on me. “I wore those.”
“The Halls reflect your reality. If you’d stopped believing in your robes, it would have become very awkward.”
I gawk, too scandalized to be grateful. I’m forced to admit, very quietly, and only to myself, that I’m glad he withheld this particular truth.
To my tremendous relief, Nikolai excuses himself to brush his teeth, leaving me alone to recover from the thought of him never wearing clothes.
I debate whether to change into the blue robes.
They’re no different from before, I tell myself.
I wore these at the Halls. And he’s right: I’ve never seen his illusions so much as flicker.
The idea of wearing that soft blue fabric outside the Halls feels indulgent.
But I’ll have to wear them again when I return, so I’d better get used to the idea of wearing an illusion all the time—and believing it.
My heart skitters as I change, ruthlessly steering my thoughts strictly away from the tangibility of my garment. Then I perch on the edge of the bed.
When he returns, my breathing quickens. Am I really about to snuggle up with him in this too-small bed? He’ll know everything I feel toward him as soon as we touch. Panicking, I delay.
“I heard a rumor,” I blurt, then rack my brain for one. “You skipped a year at the Halls of Glass?”
“You did, did you?” He smiles.
“Is that one true?”
“Yes.”
“Was it because of Hazel?”
He hesitates. “Yes.”
When Nikolai doesn’t explain further, I ask another question. “How difficult is it to get the amulets for her?”
“Expensive,” he replies slowly. “But I’ll do anything for Hazel, even if I have to sleep with the whole Halls of Glass.”
“That must be horrible,” I whisper. I don’t know how to put it nicely. “Your body in exchange for magic.”
He tilts his head. “That’s not quite it. I hardly need any contact with a source to conjure whatever they want. It’s intimate, but it’s a fantasy. I don’t have to touch them unless I want to.”
My stomach tightens with forbidden excitement.
I should feel compassion, or shock, at his nonchalant attitude.
But I’m fixed on how Nikolai can bring pleasure to someone while barely even touching them.
I experienced it myself a few nights ago.
I swallow. I hope I wasn’t just another source to him. That would break my heart.
“Anything they can imagine,” I repeat. My shallow breaths must be noticeable, because his lips part into a wolfish grin.
“Anything.” His mischievous gaze studies me, threatening to uncover a myriad of inappropriate thoughts flitting around inside my head.
“You never wish it were different? That you didn’t have to… do that with so many people?”
“It’s what made me powerful.” His emerald stare is hard to hold. “And Hazel lives the life she deserves.”
When I can’t bear the intensity of looking at him, I shift, still not lying down. Nikolai takes a seat next to me.
“We can just sleep, you know,” he says.
“I know.”
But I don’t want to sleep. And instead of doing the smart thing—snuffing my desire before he notices—I daringly pull back the covers and wriggle under.
After a moment, he slips in beside me, taking the more precarious outside edge.
It’s clear there isn’t room for both of us to lie on our backs, so I shift onto my side, facing the wall.
He mimics me, the heat of his body only an inch or two away, mirroring my shape.
I could stop now. I could try to sleep. Like a sensible person. I know Nikolai won’t push me to do more, even if I want him to—even if it frustrates me.
But I crave another night with him. And I can tell him with the slightest touch.
My magic hums, tugging me to close the gap between us.
When it comes to Nikolai, I’m selfish and I’m reckless.
I’ve tried my damnedest not to, but I love the way he makes me feel—fully alive.
Something I haven’t let myself experience since my mother passed.
If I can brave the desert, I can brave Nikolai. And if he doesn’t feel the same way, I’m strong enough to piece myself back together.
Eventually.
It only takes a subtle shift for my shoulder blades to brush his chest, both still covered in the blue fabric of his magic. But I don’t fully believe in that fabric anymore.
His intake of breath is audible.
We both lay perfectly still, excruciatingly aware of each other. I know he can feel my nervous excitement, the way my heart pounds at his proximity. And he knows I’m showing this to him. I arch against him in the tiniest motion, and both of our exhales come out shuddered.
“Taera.” Nikolai’s voice is husky, tightly controlled.
“Yes?” I say.
“I can’t,” he whispers, and I freeze.
He doesn’t want me.
“I’m sorry.” I curl in on myself, pulling away, but this bed is too damned small.
“Taera, please, look at me.”
I shake my head, afraid my voice will betray my embarrassment.
“I need to tell you something.”
When I finally come to terms with the fact that I can’t disappear into the mattress, I roll over to face him, having to rearrange the blanket in the process. Very smooth. Fortunately, my eyes are only in line with his chin, so I don’t have to meet the gaze of the magician who rejected me.
“I’m not what you need. You deserve someone who can give you everything.”
“You don’t have to explain.” My throat closes, and I try to swallow.
“Yes, I do.” I pinch my eyes shut, wishing he would stop, but he doesn’t. “Being close to me isn’t safe, especially for you. Nothing about my world is safe for you.”
“I know that.” I want this conversation to be over, and anger flares in me at how he wants to drag this out.
“Which is why I’m going to bring you home.”
Everything drops away. I stare, uncomprehending.
“We’ll depart tomorrow, and I’ll take you back to your village. You don’t have to return to the Halls of Glass, Taera.”
I can hardly breathe. My world topples.
“Why?” I whisper.
He’s silent for a long moment.
“Because I care about you.”