Chapter 49 Hakara #2
One of his hands lifted, his claws tangling in my loose hair. His mouth found my forehead, breath stirring the hairs on the top of my head. His chest rumbled as he spoke. “We don’t have to do anything more than this.”
In answer, I reached behind his broad back, undoing the cloth-knot buttons of his shirt, letting my cheek rest against his chest, marking the rhythm of his heart.
I slipped my fingers beneath, sliding the shirt from his shoulders, hearing it pool on the floor behind him.
He kissed a fiery line down my neck, pulling loose the ties at the front of my tunic.
I couldn’t look at him, not directly. It was too much like looking at the sun.
Skin met skin, and I was trailing my fingers across his collarbone, letting my tongue follow in their wake.
He tasted like salt and faintly of berries warmed by the sun.
My other hand clenched, nails lightly scratching his lower back as I pulled him closer.
He let out a low moan and my breathing quickened.
The longer I stayed here, pressed against him, the more I felt things shift between us. There was him, and there was me, and this thing between us unfurling new and tender leaves.
I froze.
Like a plant. A tree. Between the relief I’d seen on the wall and the power I’d accessed when I’d fought the godkillers, I’d just assumed the corestone was a greater form of god gem. Some rare, strange crystal that contained even more magic.
But perhaps that wasn’t all it was. I remembered Utricht teaching me about the god gems, referring to them as something like seeds. Maybe they weren’t actually seeds. But maybe corestones were.
“The corestone isn’t a stone. It’s a seed.”
Thassir’s nose nudged at my hairline, an infinitesimal gesture. He couldn’t confirm or deny what I’d said, but I felt him waiting, his wings tightening around us.
“The Numinars are gone, but there are still seeds. The seeds grant someone great power when combined with aether.” I stopped. “But you don’t want me to use it.”
His hands settled gently at my waist, stroking the skin over my hips, making it hard for me to think. If he didn’t want me to use it, then it was harming me in some way.
“Velenor said I should have been dead. You’ve done something to help protect me from it, but that was all you could do – help.” The burning sensation. “It gives me power, but it takes, too. If I keep using it, I’ll die.”
The softness of lips against the shell of my ear. “Do you understand why I can’t bear to look at you? You will keep using it. You’ve never taken the time to stop, to think about who you are and what you want. The pain you keep putting aside – it’s a part of you.”
No. Pain wasn’t a personality trait. It was a feeling.
“I can shut it out, I can separate it away.” The warmth of a kiss at my ear lobe.
I found myself sinking deeper into his embrace, desperately wanting.
“You say I put aside my pain, but I can’t be like you.
You live in your grief every day, you let it consume you.
And if you can’t see a way past it, to finally stand up and put everything on the line, then what use are you to me? ”
He pulled away, and I couldn’t avoid his gaze, the pain and the desire here in the shadow of his wings.
Without thinking, I tilted my chin up. He kissed me softly, hesitantly.
The gentle press of his lips was enough to undo me.
I wound my fingers into his hair, wanting to bring him closer again, feeling the muscles of his shoulders shift as he tensed.
He gritted his teeth, his expression a grimace.
“Is that all I am? A thing to be useful?”
I swallowed, wishing more than anything for the heat of his mouth against mine again, to take my words away.
I could say that was all he was, and we would both know it wasn’t true.
But it would still hurt him, would force us apart.
I needed that space. I thought he did too.
We had too much to do, too many places we needed to go.
Instead of speaking, for once in my life I paused, thinking, trying to find words that were true.
I pressed my forehead to his, wishing I could convey my thoughts and feelings with a touch.
“Everything you did, everything you didn’t do – it’s led us here.
What do you think the future should be? I don’t know what your hopes are.
They can’t center around me. I’m mortal.
Whatever this thing is that we have, it’s going to end.
It’s pointless. There has to be more. I can’t be your anchor to this world.
” The way I’d once made Rasha my anchor, the only thing that mattered.
His hands tightened once, then let go. His wings settled at his back, leaving me feeling cold and exposed. “Is that it, then? Are you… rejecting me?”
Gods below, why did he have to sound so sad? I didn’t know. There was so much more to figure out than this.
A clash from above. A panicked shout. Alifra’s voice.
“Hakara! Attack!”