Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
Dazar
I watched Leo leave, a bit stunned at how easily he’d seen right through me.
He was… very odd indeed.
His colors lingered where he’d stood. I don’t know what he’d been feeling, but it had been intense and had left a bit of an after-image once he’d departed. His deep purple hue wafted around me, the intensity intoxicating. Blues and violets were already fading, but they had remained a moment as well.
I blinked, bringing myself back to reality. Though, even as I regained myself, his words rang through me.
… you love her, don’t you?
It’s plain as day… to everyone but her, apparently.
She’s not with anyone now, is she?
…you need to tell her how you feel.
…before it’s too late.
…Tisera is in a dangerous line of work. If she were to die without you having told her…
Don’t let her slip away.
I’d never really thought about it. Yes, Dizzy was a warrior, but she’d always returned from her missions. She was that good. But then I recalled something our father had once said to me, about his time as a mercenary:
“Skill and experience will keep you alive on the battlefield… most of the time. But I’ve seen men more skilled than I felled by a lucky shot from an untrained clod when they weren’t looking. Skill will get you most of the way, but the rest is up to Tawandi.”
I recalled the conversation clearly because I’d been impressed that he’d known the name of a Dathi god: Tawandi of wind and storm… as well as chance and fate.
Suddenly I was terrified. Dizzy had two new jobs, protecting some noblewoman and training this nobleman, and either of those might result in some unlucky incident and…
Gods, no!
I had to tell her.
I couldn’t wait. Leo was right.
I rushed inside the cottage and barged into her room. She never locked her door, she didn’t need to… but that meant I arrived to find her barely-dressed.
I froze, my eyes going wide and jaw dropping as I stared at her… mostly naked.
She had one leg lifted, drawing buckskin leggings up over it, but wore… nothing else. Her posture, leaning forward, emphasized her breasts, which were usually not so prominent, but now they hung, full, below her. I couldn’t help but admire the shapely curve of her buttocks and the long, strong line of her legs.
“Ah… hey Daz. What’s up?” She didn’t even try to cover up. Neither did she continue dressing. She must have been a bit stunned as well. Yet, it spoke to how comfortable she was around me, that she didn’t think she needed to cover up.
But that didn’t help. My cock went hard in an instant. I couldn’t stop staring at her. She stayed bent over, with a confused, bemused smile.
Tell her! Now! My mind screamed at me. Tell her you love her, then go in there and…
The image was very vivid: I imagined saying the words with confidence and passion, then I stripped and went to her. She remained as she was, slightly bent over, as I took her from behind and we both screamed out our bliss as a heady, mutual orgasm swept through us.
“Daz?” she said again. This time she started moving. She slid on the buckskin pants, finishing with her one leg and stepping in with the other to pull them up. Yet, she remained topless. Her lean, athletic physique called to me: taut stomach, narrow waist, the high soft swells of her breasts. Strong muscles covered her shoulders and lengthened down her arms. She was… amazing!
Though I didn’t work my body nearly as often, nor as aggressively as she did, I was naturally tall and well built. Controlling the colors meant having control of one’s body as well and my time at The White Tower had included some physical training. We were a perfect match. I wanted — no, needed — to tell her I love her.
But the sight of her naked before me had befuddled me thoroughly. Lust raged through me, sending all my blood flowing out of my brain and into my cock and I just couldn’t form words. I stammered out something completely incoherent, even more embarrassed by that. How had this gone so wrong?
I couldn’t do it, not here, not now, not with her half-dressed. So I backed out and closed the door.
And when that door clicked shut, my cowardice crushed me like a tidal wave. I’d had my chance to tell her, but I’d failed. And a part of me didn’t know if I could ever face her again!
So, I ran. I infused red and orange into my muscles and bones to sprint faster than any man could. I bolted, out of the cottage and away: down the lane and out into the city. I didn’t stop until I hit the river, at the end of a dock with several fishing boats tied to it.
I could go no farther, so I screamed out my frustration.
I hadn’t been able to do it. Even with all the urgency and impetus that Leo had instilled in me, I’d frozen then ran.
I told myself it had been because she’d been half naked, but the truth was, I didn’t know. Perhaps, even if she’d been dressed, I’d have run away, a true coward, unable to express my feelings to the woman I loved.
I screamed again and slammed my fist into a tall post at the end of the pier. But I still had my body infused with strength and vitality, so I shattered the eight-inch-thick post, sending splinters and wood fragments flying in all directions.
Several fishermen around me shouted and called out in alarm, though, luckily none were hurt.
I shook my head, letting the colors seep out of me, my shoulders slumping. This was who I was: a coward with strength he didn’t deserve.
How could I ever face Dizzy again?
She was perfect: strong and sure and beautiful, even if she didn’t see it. I’d thought, after my last breakdown — after she’d asked me to warm her bath — that I’d come to terms with just being her “brother.” I’d be there for her in every way she needed me to be, cooking and doing all things domestic. I liked doing those things for her, but now…
I just…
How could I go back after I’d run off like that?
Sighing heavily, I turned and slunk back through the city. I’d find some inn and stay the night. Tomorrow I’d sneak back to the cottage while Dizzy was out and gather my things. I couldn’t be around her anymore.
She wouldn’t want me.
She was fearless.
And I was a craven fool. I didn’t deserve her.
For all my power… I was a wretch of a man.
I wept then, hot bitter tears as I made my way through the city in shame.