Chapter 1 #2
"Why were you going to jump?" he asks once more, this time with more pleading than curiosity.
I thumb a tear that slips down my cheek. "I'm tired."
"Tired of what?"
"Tired of no one believing me. Tired of no one listening. Tired of … "
He squeezes my hand when I trail off, the last bit more difficult to admit aloud than I anticipated.
"I'm tired of him hurting me," I whisper, biting the inside of my cheek to keep myself from completely breaking down in front of him.
His hand stills. Feeling the need to explain myself, I snap up to meet his gaze but every word, every excuse, falls quiet when I see his eyes. They're not hazel anymore, they're a shade of orange that resembles a raging fire, and suddenly I'm frightened. I swallow hard.
"Your eyes," I can't seem to pull away. "Your eyes are orange."
As if he was unaware of the switch, he blinks, and his eyes return to their natural color.
My brows knit together. Surely my mind isn't playing tricks on me. But then I remember he mentioned not wanting to use his magic against competitors. What kind of magic does he possess that he believes he wouldn't bring honor to his people by competing?
His gaze hasn't departed from mine. He might be waiting to see what I say or do next before he explains himself.
So, I allow myself to give into curiosity and slowly reach up and rest my palm against his cheek.
He's not a fire wielder. Their skin always seems to run a bit hotter than normal.
But Finn's skin is cool to my touch. My eyes search his for answers.
Perhaps if I share more of my own truth, he'll permit me to know his.
"My husband is a cruel man. He's harmed me in more ways than I care to admit. No one in my family will help me. So, I'm going to jump so I don't have to suffer anymore."
He sucks in a sharp breath. A featherlight tick of his jaw ripples as he grinds his back teeth together.
"Where is he?"
His question takes me by surprise.
"If I were to guess, he would be celebrating the closing ceremony with his favorite girl at the brothel."
"Say the word," he says so intensely it heats my entire body. "Say the word, and I will make him disappear."
"Finn – "
"You see," he blinks and his eyes are once again a raging orange, "I wouldn't use my magic on competitors because I do not wish them harm, but for your husband, I would make an exception."
My mouth opens. Words fail me.
He slips his hand in mine and presses my palm against his chest. His heartbeat is steady, though his face is a brewing storm.
"Say the word, Eris, and he will never touch you again."
"What is your affinity?" I ask hoarsely. "I've never seen anyone with eyes like yours before."
"I am a pain inflictor." There's a hint of shame that seeps across his face, but as quickly as it flashes, it disappears.
Anger, rage, vengeance. His body is taut, restricting himself from what I suspect is unleashing hell on my husband.
Crius is used to being the predator. Perhaps it's time he understands how it feels to be prey.
But I can't allow Finn to harm him. If the Tronovian is caught using his magic against a Hydran elite – one of my mother's most decorated allies – there will be nothing I can do to spare him from execution. Hell, I might be beside him, doomed for aiding in his crime.
I think once more of my original plan to jump. Somehow, that no longer appeals to me. Call me foolish, but Finn has sparked something in the darkest parts of my shredded soul. Maybe there's hope for me yet.
I draw my hand from his and plant my palms on either side of his face and smile, despite the tears streaming down my cheeks. "Thank you, Finn Harland, for believing me. You've given me hope."
Confusion flitters across his gaze and the orange fades to hazel. "Let me help you."
"You already have. You talked me off the ledge."
The clock in the Hydran Square chimes. Midnight. I'll need to get home before my husband. I'll be able to barricade my door for when he stumbles inside the foyer drunk and mean.
"I hope we meet again one day, Finn." I release him and backpedal toward the door leading to the stairs.
"Come away with me." He blurts and I stop.
"What?"
"If you want to escape, I can help you get to Tronovia, where you will receive asylum. Our ship leaves at dawn and I can make sure no one knows where you went."
"Why would you risk yourself for me?"
"If I am in a position to help, why wouldn't I?"
A small part aches for me to accept his tempting offer. Even if my mother didn't send her soldiers to find me, my husband would never stop hunting me for the sole purpose of gutting me like a pig the second I stepped foot on our shores.
"Be safe on your journey home," I force myself to say, immediately regretting it.
"If you change your mind," his throat bobs when he swallows, clenching his fists beside his legs, "we will be docked until sunrise."
I nod, granting myself permission to soak him in for a few seconds more before I turn and make my way down the spiral staircase, back to the life I so desperately want to escape. Jumping isn't the answer. I just don't know what is.