21. Astraea
Chapter twenty-one
Astraea
Fear and panic battle for dominance in my mind.
I try to force my body to cooperate and just breathe.
It’s never that easy, though. I have to lock my knees in place, urging my leg muscles to keep me standing.
If it were not for Kyros, I likely would have already given into the crippling feeling and toppled to the ground.
This can’t be happening.
I look down at my hands, fingers entwined with Kyros’ and wrapped in a steadily warming magick.
This moment reminds me of the time I saw Kyros in the Creshian forest not long ago, looking at his hands in disbelief.
For very different reasons, though, his eyes now are like an endless chasm of awe as we both inspect our clasped hands with something between fear and a perplexed sort of wonder.
I have lived every day of my life with these hands, but today they are foreign.
A manic laugh breaks free as a nervous sort of hysteria settles over me, and I look to Kyros for guidance.
He doesn't say anything, though. Those dark eyes just anchor themselves to mine as he studies me with an intimate curiosity.
When we first landed in the grass here, I sat rotating both arms out in front of me in shocked fascination, silently questioning everything.
Tattoos just like Kyros’ and Mavros’ were swirling and writhing on the surface of my skin, but this is entirely different.
I swallow hard, and that nagging question that keeps pressing in on me rises again, this time with more urgency.
How is this possible?
I am terrified. My hands tremble with the proof of my fear as my eyes trail from the tattoos to the dark, should-be King who now stands before me.
I was worried before. Scared for Cole and the others.
Troubled over everything that we had yet to face, what I know we still have to face…
but this? Being afraid of a situation I am in?
It feels like nothing compared to being terrified of myself.
None of this makes sense. I can’t have magick. Shadows and fire? How?
Energy flows between both of us. Swirling clouds of darkness cast out and block the morning sun and its warmth that was just starting to become blazingly bright. The air around us feels charged and overheated for more than one reason. My panic rises the longer I stare at the unknown.
“I’ve never seen anything like this.” Kyros says barely above a whisper. I blink in astonishment as his voice snags my attention away from the impossible, and I try to focus on what he’s saying. Our eyes clash, aching souls collide, and my breath is pulled from my lungs.
“Kyros—” His name is a breathless plea. My eyes feel hot as I try to contain the rising and terrifying emotion brimming in my vision.
The dark obsidian of his gaze melts, velvetier, warm and soft as they try to tame the chaos in my soul.
But why? The sheer look of profound adoration.
Why is he looking at me like that? He smiles, shaking his head with disbelief.
“Breathe, Shula.” He pulls me closer, and I close my eyes as I press my sticky forehead to his chest. I can feel—so much.
His heart. My heart. The very air appears to be tangible and pressing in.
He wraps his arms tightly around me, anchoring my body to his.
They are the only thing holding me together when I feel as though nothing will stop me from falling apart. Just like in the new nightmare.
“Breathe.” He draws the word out, almost to coerce the air to fill my lungs. He takes a deep breath, my head rising with the expansion of his chest, and I follow the command. My lungs finally inflate, and the spinning in my head slows along with my panic.
I stay like that, hiding from the world in his arms for a long moment, and only open my eyes when his fingers find my hair.
He tips my head back, taking in my face, which I'm sure is a mess of blotted redness with sweat-soaked black hair clinging to the edges.
Wisps of dark mist float away on a warm breeze, and he smiles.
His gaze is warm black velvet as it reaches his eyes.
“What just happened?” I ask a little breathlessly.
He pulls away from me only enough to bring his hand between us.
Palm up, he moves his fingers, and glittering black smoke clouds out from their tips.
My eyes snap to his, and his smile only grows.
“Your magick?” The wisps of black grow from his hand, reaching up like a climbing snake.
It caresses my face, cool against my skin, and brushes my hair from my cheeks.
A half laugh bubbles up in my chest unabated.
“It seems my magick is restored. I don’t know how it happened or if something about your magick did it, but one minute I barely felt any of its usual energy, just the same stagnant void I’ve been feeling.
And the next, it was like a door that had been locked tight was finally ripped open.
” He searches my face, and I do the same with him.
I don’t understand any of this. Restored his magick?
I didn’t even mean to let my own magick out, so how in the hell could I have possibly restored his?
Panic rises, crawling up my spine like a spider; there is just so much I do not know or understand.
My body trembles with the building terror.
I have no control and know nothing about the power that has laid dormant under my skin for so long.
I know he says that it won’t cause harm unless I intend harm, but what about this?
Did I intend to do this? Is it the same thing?
“I’ve seen your shadows spark and ignite when you have rendered a portal… but the fire that I conjured… it was different.” I shake my head, and a crease forms between his brows. The eerie black flame looked sinister and not of this realm.
“It was different. I’ve seen many types of magick at work, but I’ve not seen anything like that.
” He takes my shaking hand in his, looking between us as he runs the calloused pads of his over the smoothness of mine.
Almost coaxing in his sweeping touches along my skin.
“Do you still feel the power?” He asks with his brows drawn, looking away from our clasped hands and into my eyes.
He must see my confusion because he clarifies, “Magick is like a thread of essence. It’s like your breath most of the time.
You don’t pay attention to its presence, but if you focus, you can feel it, just as you can feel the push and pull of air in your lungs. ”
I nod, steeling my spine, and take a deep breath through my nose and let it out of my mouth. Focusing on that feeling that he described, I close my eyes and go deeper. Warmth greets me like a lover’s embrace. My face slackens as I pull at the sensation of my magick for the first time purposefully.
“That’s it.” Kyros takes my hand in his—palm up, like he was just showing me his shadows—and I open my eyes to see a dark flame licking along my skin.
A choked sob breaks from my throat as I laugh, and tears well in my eyes.
“You’ve got it,” he continues. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Kyros smile so much.
I have magick. Kyros pulls his hand from mine and calls his shadows to his palm too.
They slither from his skin like snakes and pool into his hand like swirling ink and dark mist. Tendrils of the same black smoke lift from the dark flame in my palm. It’s mesmerizing.
I let the flame flicker out. The swirl of smoke left behind curls along my wrist and fades into the markings that now decorate my skin.
Kyros does the same with the closing of his fist. He cups my cheek in his hand, slowly closing the distance between our lips.
Before he kisses me again, his eyes flick between mine reverently.
I lean forward, closing the gap as my heart is finally not beating out of my chest with panic.
Instead, it beats only for him. The kiss is languid as I wrap my arms around his neck and his hands settle on my hips.
I wish we could stay here, in this reverie, where everything else seems small.
But I know that’s selfish and mostly just fear of all of the unknown that’s guiding my thoughts.
“We should get back.” Kyros mutters against my lips, as though he could read where my thoughts were with our connection.
“I’ll teach you how to open a portal. We should go back to Kaeleith’s, check on Colette, and make sure Ruaan hasn't run off. There’s more I—we need to talk to him about.
” Heat gathers in my cheeks at his reconsideration of words.
“I want to know what happened to Cole,” I admit. “If she's not awake, I want Ruaan to recount what happened.” I hope she is awake. I need her to wake up more than ever now.
“Well, that’s where we’ll start. Then we’ll go back to Aithne.
Maybe Rowan can help figure out more about this prophecy and get a read on your magick now that it’s not suppressed.
" Rubbing his hands up and down on my arms, he reluctantly takes a step back.
However, something sparks in his eyes as he regards me.
“Now, lucky for you, I can teach you how to render a portal, and we won't be stuck here for days like I was when I accidentally rendered one here when I was a boy.”
Turns out teaching me to render a portal is a lot harder than teaching me to reach for my magick and bring a dark flame to my palm…
“Take a deep breath and try again. You feel the magick. You can bring it to your hands every time. This isn’t much different.
” He says so matter of factly. I try not to groan with the rising frustration over yet another failed attempt.
It’s just another variation of the same thing he’s been saying for hours, and still I have yet to pull open a portal.
“You keep saying that…” I close my eyes, focusing on that inner magick.
I feel it travel along my arm and curl my wrist. As I open my eyes, I flick it out as he’s instructed.
A midnight flame bursts along my arm, only to be extinguished within seconds by my disappointment.
“It’s not working!” I snap. I’m tired, hungry, and getting more and more frustrated by the second.
If he tells me I can do it one more time, I’m going to throw these damn flames at him.
“You can do it, if you only believe you can,” he declares again, and my eyes turn to daggers.
“UGHHH,” I groan, dropping my head back dramatically. Heat encircles my waist and flutters along my neck, and the fluttering wings return to my stomach as Kyros’ lips trail along the column of my neck I had exposed to him.
“Mmmm, as much as I would love to run my tongue along this beautiful neck every time you throw your head back in a fit, we do need to get back now. Do you want to try one more time?” He asks pointedly, his breath heating the skin beneath my ear and much farther south.
“I don’t want to give up, but I think I am just too tired.” My stomach growls loudly.
“And hungry.” He chuckles into my skin, and I can't hold back my own laugh as I tilt my head and swat at his chest. It’s astonishing to believe how different things were between us just hours ago.
It’s easy to trust someone when you genuinely want to.
I think I am starting to understand Kyros more and the wall he has constructed to keep everyone else at bay.
He’s giving me a glimpse of what is on the other side.
I get it. I’ve built my own walls, and I know because of him they had begun to crumble the moment he stepped into my life.
“And hungry,” I finally agree. “Take us back.” Reaching up, I tentatively brush the hair out of his face. I’ve never been able to appreciate the soft texture of his thick hair. His eyes close as my fingers run all the way through the strands.
“You really like testing my willpower, don’t you?” He says, almost pained.
“I don't know what you’re talking about—” I trail off, my fingers tangling further into his inky hair. He groans in response, taking a deep breath and wrapping one arm around my waist.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Unfortunately, that stomach of yours needs substance. You can finish pawing at me later.” My shocked expression spurs him to a filthy grin. Heat pools at my core.
“Is that a promise?” I let the question slip. I don’t know what has gotten into me. His already dark eyes go completely black as his pupils blow out. I bite down on my lower lip, watching as he eyes the movement.
“You know exactly what you are doing to me, don’t you?
” His hands travel along my back almost shakily as he attempts to control himself.
A trait that I realize is entirely Kyros.
He struggles with feeling out of control.
I run my gaze over him, stopping on his face, and I lift my shoulder shrugging.
“Looks like the list of ways you surprise me just keeps growing.” My toes curl in my boots at the way his eyes dance over my face, my neck, and the throbbing I can feel there.
Then they continue their path, traversing down my body in a slow, methodical sweep, but with that practiced restraint, he steps back and offers me his hand instead. “Come on, we will finish this later.”
As if it were as natural as breathing, Kyros flicks his wrist, and a portal snaps open in front of us. I give him a deadpan look before I roll my eyes and put my hand in his. His rumbling chuckle pulls me into the shadows of his portal.