Chapter 19 #2
Head bent, I catch sight of a lock of my hair. The dull tawny shade is now a bright bronze. Tiny beads of moisture, leftover from bathing in the creek, glisten throughout my curls. I wrap a strand around my pointer finger, marveling at the glossy reflections.
When I draw my gaze up, my knees tremble.
Gone is the expansive dull landscape. Along the horizon, fiery sand dunes and the glittering teal depths of the ocean in the distance embrace a brilliant blue sky.
The narrow leaves on the scattered trees I’d once known to be a near-black shade of green are now a vivid olive.
Nothing is untouched by the sun’s generosity, by its magic. It bathes the earth in life.
My refusal to blink brings tears cascading down my face. A deep ache takes root in my chest, realizing I’ve been robbed of this. All this time, I’d thought the world to be a hazy palette of muted tones. In reality, the saturated vibrancy had simply been dormant, waiting to be awoken.
I set my sights directly on the source of it all—and flinch.
Warm, gloved fingers wipe away the wetness on my cheeks before gripping beneath my chin, twisting it to the side.
“First lesson about the sun: don’t look directly at it.”
Floating white spots glimmer across my vision, along with flashes of a green-tinted inverse image of the landscape. I blink, and the optical illusions fade enough for me to really see Kalden.
Streaks of gold shimmer along the veins of his face, framing his cheeks, trailing into his lustrous curls and down his neck. My hand lifts, fingertips longing to trace the sparkling patterns. But I halt when my eyes meet his.
Molten irises shine like twin suns. The effect amplifies his already intimidating, mesmerizing presence into something entirely otherworldly.
My pulse trips over itself as I openly ogle his face, yet I can’t bring myself to turn away from this beaming, unrestrained version of him.
His gaze is a scalding, tangible touch, burning through me directly to the core of my being, and I have never felt so laid bare while fully clothed.
His smile grows crooked. “You’re staring.”
There’s no use in denying it, so I shrug and share a sheepish smirk in return. “You . . . Your face is . . .”
The foundation of our beliefs rests on the irrefutable fact that the sun is the source of all our problems, that Sols are a result of direct exposure to its vile, corrupting light.
Caligo wouldn’t exist—wouldn’t be needed—if humans hadn’t been driven to seek shelter from the sun and its murderous abominations.
Yet in this moment, I struggle to align those beliefs with what’s in front of me.
There’s nothing vile about the radiant landscape.
No corruption to be found in Kalden’s disarming eyes.
“Yours, too,” he says simply, brushing a thumb up across my jawline before releasing his grip.
My hands fly to my cheeks, as if I can feel the warm markings of my exposure.
And I can, but not through my gloved fingers.
Energy floods my veins, chasing away the lingering chill on my neck from my damp hair.
A part of me acknowledges that the heady tingle racing beneath my skin should be a cause for concern, but it feels so damn good.
I feel good. Powerful, even. Perhaps a little reckless, too, because I make no move to retreat to the shade, unwilling to part with the intoxicating sunrise.
“You’ve truly never seen it before, have you?” Kalden asks, what could be seconds or minutes later.
“Never.” I shake my head. “And you have?”
He nods, lips quirking up the smallest fraction.
“Is it always this bright?” I squint, immediately forgetting his advice to not look directly at it.
Kalden chuckles, and the sound of it is so unexpected, it draws my attention back to him.
For the first time since we met in the tunnel, he looks . . . lighter. The near-permanent crease between his stern brows has softened. His shoulders are rolled back. Even the shadows beneath his eyes seem to disappear.
He takes a long and slow inhale, like he’s savoring the charged morning air. “The sun shines brighter for those who’ve seen the night.”
“Huh,” I say, considering the poetic words that don’t align with what I know of this stoic, pedantic man. “I’m not sure whether to take that literally or metaphorically.”
“I’d say it’s more of an allegory,” Kalden corrects with a teasing smile, transforming his usually hard features into something dangerously alluring and quickening my already restless pulse. “The sun has a way of revealing things that the shadows would prefer to hide. Like you.”
He takes a step closer.
“What about me?” I ask, voice a mere whisper.
“You’ve seen more darkness than most. Its shadows clung to you, convinced you the only safety you’d find was within their grasp,” he observes, and I think of how certain I was that leaving the shelter of Caligo would lead to my imminent death.
If I were relying on the shadows alone to get me through this, perhaps that would prove true.
The only reason I stand a chance is thanks to the very thing I’ve been taught to fear, to hate.
I turn my face towards the gold-drenched landscape below, feeling neither of those emotions within me as Kalden continues, “Right now, the sunlight illuminates more than just your skin and vision. It exposes your character. Your adaptability. Your willingness to keep an open mind and be proven wrong.”
Trying not to squirm beneath the fervor of his attention, I lift my chin, stealing some of the sunlight’s brazenness.
“You know, I’m not the only one exposed here.” Kalden’s smile falls, but he allows me to go on. “I hear the way you talk about the sun. See the way you look at it. Like it’s your anchor. Like you’d sooner worship its light than stand in reverence to the shadows.”
He lifts a brow. “Does that frighten you?”
“It should. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you sound like a Sol, if Sols could actually talk.”
“But?”
“But you don’t look like a monster,” I say, echoing words he once said to me. “You don’t look fully human right now, but I’m not frightened by you. Should I be?”
Yes, answers a distant voice in my brain.
If I were thinking rationally, I should walk away from this strange man’s too-keen eyes and his measured words with hidden meanings. If I were thinking rationally, I shouldn’t have run up this hill to begin with.
Unfortunately, rationality left me the moment I spotted the streak of dawn on the horizon, which is why I hold my ground while he leans in closer to ask, “The better question is: should I fear you?”
I blink. “Why would you fear me?”
“Because you’re . . .” He pauses, pupils dilating as they search my own for the right words. “ . . . an unexpected distraction.”
The way he grimaces as he says distraction makes it seem like it’s one of the worst possible things I could be. To him, maybe it is. What was it he said to me at the selection ceremony?
“Soldiers can’t afford to feel. We are one distraction away from death.”
Something flutters in my stomach as I process the implication. “If I’m a distraction, does that mean you feel things for me?”
I regret the words as soon as they’re out. They’re too bold, too vulnerable.
And yet, Kalden answers anyway. “Unfortunately, yes.”
Before I can ask for clarification on why that’s unfortunate, he lifts a hand to brush a few rogue curls from my face, tucking them behind my ear. Silencing my mind. Stilling my breaths and body.
“You make me feel . . . too many things.” His fingertips trail a line from my ear to my chin
“Like what?” I dare to ask.
“Frustration,” he breathes while tugging on my bottom lip, and I gasp at the hungry flames erupting beneath his touch.
“Curiosity.” His thumb travels back and forth across my lip, the twin suns of his irises flashing brighter as he toys with me.
His thumb presses harder. “Desire.”
Lifting onto my tiptoes, I lower my gaze to his full, crooked mouth in a silent plea.
He pulls his hand away, and I fear the moment is over before it’s truly begun.
But then he wraps his fingers into my hair, gently tugging my head back while lowering his face to mine. His lips are tender as they press tentatively into my own, testing me.
Stoking the flames, I pull him closer, my hands roving along the bare skin of his neck. Like mine, it’s pebbled. The knowledge that my kiss elicits the same response in him as his does in me emboldens me to press further into him.
A guttural vibration emanates from his throat, nearly stopping my heart from beating. Yet Kalden still restrains himself, and I’ve had enough. I nip at his lower lip, pulling his mouth further open, commanding him without having to say a word. And he obeys.
There’s nothing tender about the way he claims my mouth, then the sensitive area at the base of my neck.
Nothing cautious about the way I groan into his ear, or the way his fingers dig into my hips as I hook my legs around his waist. The energy beneath my skin rises and rises until it erupts, enveloping us both in an invisible inferno.
I pull away, making sure I’m not actually causing him harm, but he tugs me back to reclaim my mouth.
The contact of his lips against mine ignites another hot, pulsing wave that consumes my senses.
And it’s like I can feel his innermost essence exploring my own.
Kissing Kalden is like being devoured by the sun itself, and delighting in every second of it, while needing more. More heat. More skin. More everything.
I pull back to glare at his leather bodysuit, wishing there was a better way to rip it off him without ruining his only attire. I suppose we could make do with loosening the buttons securing the thin removable strip of leather between our legs, but that’s hardly ideal.
“You really are a distraction,” Kalden says, noting where my focus has drifted. He chuckles into my lips before sliding me back down to my feet. “As much as I’m intrigued by the direction of your thoughts, we should retrieve our helmets before the others wake, if they haven’t already.”
It takes several seconds for the lust-induced ringing in my ears to settle down enough for me to comprehend Kalden’s words.
“Oh,” I say, inwardly flinching at the disappointment in my tone. I release my clenched fingers from around his neck and clear my throat. “Good point. Gem will probably freak if I’m not there when she wakes up.”
Gabe, too, though I don’t mention his name aloud.
Come to think of it, this is the first I’ve thought of my ex-husband since .
. . Well, since I left him behind an hour or so ago.
But now that I have, the last embers of lust extinguish as I consider how Gabe might feel if he discovers I threw myself at another man less than twelve hours after denying him and spending the night sleeping beneath his arm.
I remind myself that I don’t owe Gabe anything. I made that boundary abundantly clear. Friends only—that’s all I can give him.
But maybe there’s a chance I could be more with Kalden. The physical tension is certainly there. And he has this way of stripping my facade bare, seeing straight into the core of my flaws and hopes. If only he’d allow me to do the same.
Kalden peers over my shoulder, getting one last look at the unobstructed sunrise.
“You know, I forgot to ask earlier about when you’d gotten a chance to see the sun before.” I comb my fingers through my mussed hair, attempting to tame it. “Was it when you were a guard back in Scuros?”
The hint of a smile fades from Kalden’s lips, and a haunted coldness flickers behind his blazing irises.
Shoulders slumping forward, I wish I could take back the question. I should’ve known this is a sensitive topic for him, especially if I’m right in my assumption that those scars along his torso and back are from his time in service.
“I’m sorry.” I dip my flushed face. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
Kalden shakes his head, then sighs. “I wasn’t—”
Screams interrupt whatever he’s about to say.