Chapter 23
Morning came entirely too soon, and with it the unappealing task of discussing her divine role with the god of the dead himself.
Elysia stood outside Aidan’s closed office door. Hands gesticulating in the air, mouth moving silently, she froze when the door swung open. Dropping her hands to her sides, she cleared her throat awkwardly. “Hi.”
Aidan dropped one shoulder, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. Black shirt unbuttoned at the neck and vest completely undone, he looked overworked and perfectly rumpled.
“You’ve been standing outside my door for at least five minutes.”
A hot flush spread from the apples of her cheeks to her hairline. “I wanted to talk to you.”
“The floor is yours.”
His face remained impassive, and Elysia’s hand went to her neck, her mouth opening and closing like it was her first day speaking.
Aidan simply waited.
“I wanted to talk to you about something that has been brought to my attention.” Internally, she winced. Per the usual, in her discomfort she ended up sounding stiff and formal, when really, she wanted to climb out of her skin.
His brow lifted like that wasn’t what he had expected to hear. Stepping aside, he gestured for her to enter his office. She hurried past him, pacing on the rug in front of his desk. Hands in front of her stomach, she stopped and looked at him where he rested against the edge of his desk.
“I promise I’ve been trying. I took the Reyez mark.
I had a terribly honest conversation with Topp in hopes of passing the fates’ first instructions.
I completed the initiation for the Reyezes.
I killed a man for them! And all I keep hearing is how obvious it is to everyone else that I’m going through the motions.
” Her fingers gripped the chair in front of her until her knuckles turned white.
“I will do whatever it is I need to do, but the fates haven’t delivered any further instructions. It’s like they’re torturing me.”
Slipping his hands into his pockets, Aidan’s mouth turned up as he listened, nodding almost imperceptibly at her frustration. When she was quiet, he looked at her intently. “Are you wanting empathy or ideas? I can do either.”
Elysia stopped, thrown off by his question and open face. She hunted for a microexpression, a tensing, anything that would indicate judgement, but she found none. Deflating ever so slightly, she leaned forward, elbows resting on top of the chair. “Both?”
“You’re doing your best with an impossible task.
Matters of the heart or spirit rarely cooperate with timelines no matter how much we try to force or cajole ourselves into feeling a certain way.
But you did what you could with the prince—you laid it all out there, so it has a chance of healing rather than festering.
And sometimes it appears we’re going through the motions when really, we’re too overwhelmed to feel anything at all. Numb is never just numb.”
She’d been studiously staring at the pattern on the armchair when her head shot up at his final words. A sense of resonance spread like light within her as she nodded emphatically. She hadn’t expected Aidan of all people to be the one to reflect exactly what was happening inside her.
The words for thank you were stuck and unwilling to come out, so instead she asked another question with a scratchy voice. “The fates are being quiet. What do we do?”
Pushing off the desk, with a smile that made her battered heart go weak, Aidan strode past her, snagging her by the wrist as he went. “We train.”
Dressed in loose pants and a soft long-sleeve shirt, Elysia bounced on her feet in the sparring room.
Today it was quiet. There wasn’t the swell of music or of two gods crashing against each other.
There was only the nervous racing of her pulse and the soft patter of her feet against the black cushioned mat.
Aidan watched her bounce for a moment, appraising her with a short nod, and then began to unbutton his shirt. Her eyes went to how his fingers slowly and methodically undid each button, before darting to his face.
“What are you doing?” she asked sharply. She might be new to magical training, but she was positive it didn’t require a striptease.
He shrugged out of the button-up shirt and tossed it to the side, pulling his undershirt free from his black fitted trousers and stretching his chest. A partial grin curled up his face as he released the stretch and rolled his shoulders out.
“You look wired, so I’m going to wear you out.”
Her mouth dried. Wear her out. She was slow to answer, studying the smirk on his face and trying to decide if he knew what he was saying. No, this was a desert, and he was a cactus that looked like water.
“You want to spar?”
He nodded, taking a weighted step that had her moving back two. His grin widened as he paused. “What do you normally do when you feel like this?”
“Make Gage spar with me until I can’t think, or run until my legs and brain give up.” Have sex with Topp until I pass out. She heated—she probably didn’t need to mention that one.
He tipped his head at her in reply and removed his belt. The metal buckle made a clank against the hardwood floor outside the mats.
Oh. He was giving her an outlet before they practiced using her magic. She reassessed him silently. “I told you before that I’ll do my job—you don’t need to baby me or whatever it is you’re doing.”
Aidan gave a short laugh. He didn’t move an inch as his intense blue eyes scanned her from her long brown ponytail to her feet and back up again.
“Noticing your discomfort and addressing it is babying you?”
She folded her arms. “Feels like it.” She itched to do exactly what he was offering—to spar and train until she couldn’t breathe—but the way this man noticed everything was too unsettling. Her entire life had revolved around and counted on people not noticing.
Aidan nodded and walked loosely to the center of the mat.
“Me paying attention feels unsafe.” He looked up, his face clear of any mocking or condescension.
“That I try to understand you.” His low, rich tones cascaded over her, both alleviating and exacerbating the high pitch of anxiety strumming through her.
“It’s unnecessary.” Her gaze went to the door. She could just go for a run outside. She’d barely seen a quarter of the estate grounds.
“Elysia, I don’t need you to trust me with your life right now. I just need you to spar with me and let a little steam off before you have a panic attack.”
His matter-of-fact tone had her almost smiling. She was a little worked up. Taking a step closer to the center of the mat, she tightened her ponytail.
“Okay, let’s go,” she muttered.
Aidan didn’t wait for more permission than that. He kicked her feet into a better stance, and Elysia responded just like she would have if Gage had done so, moving into her fighting posture. Adjusting her arms, he looked her over and nodded at what he saw.
“Good,” he murmured, stepping back, but catching her chin so she looked up at him. “How about this? You don’t have to trust me. It’s not a requirement or expectation. Just keep talking to me. Keep coming to me when things are good, when they’re bad, all of it. Use me to win your freedom.”
Something in her loosened at his words. The idea that she didn’t have to trust him.
She didn’t have to suddenly be a healthy, well-functioning sort of person, when the truth was, she might never be.
Going to his office and explaining what was going on had been difficult, but Gage’s words were in her mind—maybe if she just kept taking steps, she’d wake up one day and be surprised at where she was and who she’d become.
Elysia nodded, and instead of making a big deal about it, Aidan simply settled back into his own stance before looking at her evenly. “For the record, I like your thorns. All the most beautiful flowers have them.”
Stunned, warmth bloomed in her stomach, but she deflected. “Ready?”
He nodded and they began. His easy movements and ability to dodge every punch and kick reminded her once again of training with Gage. And even more so how he seemed to be studying her, taking notes on what she was doing all the while, never so much as catching the edge of a blow.
Muscles finally warm, she pretended to grow frustrated, making her movements appear tired, choppy, and ill-formed.
It was juvenile, but as expected, Aidan relaxed, slowing his responses to hers.
His mistake. Darting in, she landed a kick behind his knees, grinning as his legs buckled while her foot was already slamming into his back.
He crashed face first down to the mat, and she dropped as fast as she could, ripping one arm behind his back and squishing his face to the floor.
Hot, sweet victory flooded through her as she dominated him. Breath heavy, she laughed openly only for Aidan to twist his head so he could look at her.
“Oh, you think that’s funny, do you?”
Faster than she could blink, Aidan rolled, pinning his knees around her hips and gripping her wrists above her head. Leaning forward, the heat of him settled against her, and she damn near moaned at the sensations that shot through her.
Blue fiery eyes set on hers, and Aidan rolled his hips once more as he brought his face closer to hers. “Are you feeling better, Thorn, or do we need to go again?”
Flushed and sweaty, she squirmed, but his grip and knees only tightened, keeping her firmly pressed against both him and the mat. Eyes narrowed, she spat her reply.
“Again.”
Releasing her, he smoothly pulled her to her feet and gave one sharp tug on her ponytail. “Good. Now, set your feet.”