Chapter 13
Anja
Cethin's timer goes off again, though at least it's not interrupting anything fun this time. Maybe I should be more disappointed about that.
"Okay, it should be ready," he says, grabbing the mug he must have got from the store and ladling some of the potion into it. "Drink up."
I eye it warily and pick up the mug. "Just like that?"
He nods. "Maybe sit down first."
Ah, right. That's a good idea considering I probably need to be asleep for this to work properly. I sink to the floor and lean against the bench. "I'm scared," I admit.
He comes to join me and puts an arm around me. "I know. But I won't let anything happen to you," he promises.
I don't know why, but that's all I need to hear. I lift the mug to my lips, almost overwhelmed by the scent of lavender. I wrinkle my nose. It's not exactly the most pleasant thing to drink, and I haven't even started yet.
But this mug might hold the answers to my nightmares. And if I can find that, maybe I can finally have a peaceful night's sleep.
I focus everything I can on the warmth and security of Cethin's arm around me and down the potion in one go, barely tasting it.
My eyes flutter closed, and I lean my head against his shoulder, all sense of reality being chased away by the encroaching mist. It swirls around me in an almost comforting way. Maybe because I've been dreaming of it so often that it's become familiar.
The wailing begins, but it feels different from last time. Like it's coming from multiple people and not just one. I turn around slowly, trying to make out what's going on beyond the mists. I can make out several figures through the fog, but none of them come close enough for me to see clearly.
Not knowing what else to do, I make my way to the river and to the woman who looks like me, but isn't me.
"Hello?" I call as I get there and realise she isn't around.
"You were not expected, child."
I whip around to find the woman behind me. "This isn't a dream, is it?"
"It is, and it is not," she responds. "You must accept the part of you that you are running from."
"How can I run from something I don't understand?" I ask, trying not to be too frustrated about the crypticness. "It's not that I don't want to. It's that I can't."
"Find a way, child. You know the way. I know that you feel the call."
"The call?"
She reaches out and touches my chest. Everything tightens within me, and I can feel the tension of a scream building. I want to tell her that I don't want this, and that the screaming is too much when I don't understand it, but she's already gone.
My mouth is forced open by invisible magic, and the scream rips from me, filling the air around me with a strange sense of foreboding.
My vision begins to blur, going black, but even then the scream continues.
If I thought this part of my nightmares was bad, then this is even worse.
Especially because I seem even more aware of it than normal.
I stop screaming, and then there is only darkness and the echo of my own screams in my ears.
Warm arms tighten around me, only causing confusion. This has never happened as part of my dreams before. I force my eyes open, surprised to find Cethin looking down at me, his eyes glowing a deep shade of purple and a low growl coming from his throat.
I reach out and touch his face. "I'm okay." My voice is croaky from the screaming, but I manage to get the words out.
It takes him a moment to realise what's happening, and he shakes his head, his eyes returning to their normal colour.
"What happened?" I ask.
"I thought I was supposed to be asking you that," his voice is raspy, as if he's been shouting.
"That was before I woke up with you growling over me." I shuffle so I'm sitting up, and lean back into him, half expecting him to pull his arms away.
But he only wraps them around me tighter.
I let out a small sigh and settled back into him.
"You screamed."
"I told you that happened when I have the dream," I point out, though I'm surprised he heard it. Maybe it's because of the potion. "That shouldn't have made you growl, and your eyes glow."
He clears his throat. "It's nothing."
"No, it's not."
He swallows hard.
I break his hold on me, but only so I can go onto my knees and look at him. "Cethin..." I reach out and touch his cheek, drawing his gaze back to mine. "Tell me," I whisper softly.
"You don't want to know."
"Why would I ask if I didn't?" I can tell that whatever is bothering him is important, even if he doesn't want to say.
"You're my mate, Anja," he says.
"What?"
"My mate."
"I heard, I just don't really know what that means or why it's making you all growly and glowy. I mean I know what mate bonds are, everyone knows. But witches don't have them."
"You're not a witch," he whispers.
"Well, yes. I noticed that. I mean that I'm not aware of all the details because I didn't hear about it growing up."
He takes a deep breath. "It means that we're a good match for each other, and that we can form a mate bond that brings us closer together. It's...I guess a little bit more intense than just a relationship."
I wait for a sense of panic to set in, but it doesn't. Something about his words feels right. "I'm your mate," I murmur.
"You can say no," he blurts out. "You can reject it."
I put a hand on his arm. "I know. I've heard enough talk around the academy. When did you realise?"
"The moment we met, but it took me a little while to work out what the feeling was."
"What is the feeling?" I move closer to him as if drawn in by something I can't see.
His eyes meet mine, and I see a burning passion in them that I haven't seen before. "A need to be with you, to touch you, to protect you."
My breathing hitches. This is different from our conversation before I drank the potion. But it also makes everything slot into place and gives me a real understanding of the way I've been feeling.
"That's why my eyes were glowing, and I was growling. Hearing you scream like that made me want to summon every shred of magic I could so I could tear the world apart and make it all better."
I swallow hard. "There's nothing to protect me from. I'm right here."
"I know."
I bite my bottom lip, drawing his gaze right to it.
"You shouldn't do that," he murmurs, his voice low and inviting.
"Why not?" I resist the urge to repeat the action, though it's harder than I expect it to be.
"Because I will have to kiss you if you continue."
"Why would that be bad? We've already kissed. Several times," I point out.
"This is different," he says.
"So we can't do this?" I lean forward and briefly press my lips against his, pulling back ever so slightly to wait for how he'll respond.
He reaches forward and pulls me to him, crushing his lips against mine with barely restrained passion.
I press myself against him, barely aware of the classroom around us, or the lingering effects of my dream. None of it matters, the only thing I'm aware of is how good it feels to have Cethin's lips against mine.
His hand rests on my lower back, pulling me even tighter to him. I smooth my fingers over his shirt, wanting to feel his skin more than I ever have before.
He pulls back. "We should stop."
"Why?" I murmur. "If we want this, then why stop?"
He groans. "Anja..."
"I'm serious."
"I know you are. But we shouldn't. We're in the middle of a classroom."
"No one knows we're here. And we'll already get in trouble if they find us here," I point out, my fingers toying with the buttons of his shirt as I do.
"No, we can't." The way he says the words makes it seem as if it's paining him. "You've only just found out that you're my mate, and your dream. Don't ask me to do this."
"Because you will?"
He groans. "My restraint is holding on by a thread. Please don't test it."
A small part of me is tempted to. Especially because of what he's implying will happen if I push him further.
But I shouldn't do that to him. It isn't fair when he's said he doesn't want to, and while I'm disappointed by that, I have to respect his choice.
If what he's saying about us being meant for each other is true, then there'll be plenty of time to explore what I want.
"Tell me about your dream," he says.
I sigh and lean my head against his shoulder.
Thistle hops down from where she's watching from one of the benches and comes to sit by me, clearly called by my magic. Cethin must be right about her being my familiar, she's responding far too often when I've had my dreams for there to be another explanation.
"The woman from the river talked to me," I say. "It's the first time that's happened."
"What did she say?"
"A load of cryptic stuff about me having to accept what I can do before I can stop the dreams. Which I get, but at the same time, I have no idea what I can do. If I could accept it, then I would."
"Hmm."
"What?"
"It's just that there must be more clues than that. You said she looked like you?"
"Yes. Long silver-white hair, deathly pale skin, sometimes she looks really old, other times she looks my age.
She washes things in the river in some of the dreams. Oh, and the wailing was different this time.
It sounded like it was coming from more than one place.
I don't know, it all seems as if it's raised more questions than it's answered. "
He frowns. "Maybe. But it's also given us a lot of information to work with." He leans in and kisses the top of my head. "We'll work it out."
I sigh and lean into him. "I hope so." Because I really can't keep waking up in the middle of the night screaming, even if I no longer have to shoulder the knowledge of that alone.