Chapter 42 Concoctions and Confessions #3
“The Gods and the Seelie Court are who separated us by element,” Holden says, pressing his palms against the surface of the pool.
A replica of Mysthaven rises, down to the turrets and shingles on the roof.
“They did it for battle strategies. The singularity became a misconstrued reality over time, and many Elementals fail to realize their full potential.” He pauses, and I try not to take his harsh words personally.
“Water isn’t just in lakes and oceans. It’s in the ground, in the air, in living creatures.
” His fingers barely move, but my body heats and then cools.
A cloud temporarily forms and then dissipates.
“We sculpt water in battles, and in situations where it’s necessary: aiding someone, fishing, getting boats in and out of harbors…
” He shrugs. “As you’ve seen, it also heals, lends to fluidity, and responds to emotions.
“Once you access your elements, you’ll be able to see the influence is vast.”
Griffin’s arm tightens, a silent assurance or maybe a show of support. Then I realize he might simply feel the same base need to be close.
“Ready for that rematch?” Daire asks, looking at Kai.
“I want in on this while Griff’s distracted. The asshole cheats.” Holden moves to stand beside them.
“You wish you had that excuse,” Griffin says.
“Fuck yes. We all do,” Kai admits.
“Come on, Loch. Let’s see if we can push Holden to fourth place,” Daire taunts.
A broad smile spreads across Lochlan’s face, so stunning and rare, it steals my breath.
Bets are announced, lined with threats and promises, all underscored by laughter and jests that reveal yet another angle of the Vestra, one that assures me that if we had the mood-changing drinks right now, all of theirs would be light pink.
“You can join them,” I tell Griffin.
His grip around my waist tightens. “I’m exactly where I want to be.”
“Yeah, except you need to be a few feet higher so you can judge.” Kai flicks his hand, and the barrier we’re on lifts. My heart thunders in my chest in response.
Griffin’s arms are bands around my waist. “I could catch you a thousand ways in a single second,” he assures me.
“I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to this,” I admit, peering down at the space between us and the pool.
His smile is filled with adoration. My mind races to Professor McGuiness’s words: the mistake isn’t a bond. It’s allowing fear of choice to convince one that something meant—destined—for oneself is a mistake.
This certainly doesn’t feel like a mistake.
We stay in the pool for hours. They take turns showing me what the water element can do and how the other elements can manipulate it or be adversely impacted, and when it gets too warm, the air cools slightly, and the trees shift, shading the pool.
I could stay here forever, and I nearly ask them why they don’t when Kai announces he’s starving.
“You’re always starving,” Holden says. It’s true. I’ve never seen anyone eat as much as Kai.
Daire props his arms on our small cloud of air as it lowers to the surface again. “We should eat and then rest in the hot springs for a while.”
Griffin shifts us to the edge of the pool.
“We can try to find that giant one in the maze,” Kai suggests, wading to the edge and pushing himself out in one lithe movement, his body on display.
“We probably won’t find it again for another hundred years,” Holden says, stopping closer to me than he’s been all afternoon.
“How big is it?” I ask.
Kai barks out a surprised laugh. Holden raises a brow, silently taunting me.
Embarrassment creeps over me like ivy, burning my cheeks, growing when I think of the whispers I’ve heard of others referencing the prominent lump in Holden’s dress pants. The whispers I pretend don’t affect me. Don’t make my teeth clench. “The maze,” I clarify. “How big is the maze?”
“We’re not sure,” Lochlan answers.
My brow furrows, but no one clarifies. “Big enough that it will take you a hundred years to find something?”
“You have to experience the maze to understand,” Daire tells me. “We’ll do it tomorrow or Monday. Today, let’s use the hot springs here. The minerals are slightly different, known for their healing properties. We’re hoping they’ll recharge you.”
I carefully scoot to the edge of the barrier in what I’m sure is neither demure nor graceful, especially considering the length of my shorts.
“Someone remind me to give Gwen a raise,” Griffin says.
I roll my eyes as I climb to my feet, dusting off my palms. “Don’t encourage her. She emptied my entire closet.”
“Everything?” Griffin asks, humor dancing in his eyes.
“Even my socks.”
“She’s definitely leveraging for a raise,” Griffin confirms.
The mood remains light, the guys spread between the kitchen and the outdoor space, grilling and cooking.
“Can I help?” I ask, remaining close to the wall, maintaining the wide gap that’s been a constant in my time here.
Holden glances over his shoulder at me, his smile fading fractionally before he shakes his head. “We have it covered.”
“I made you some more coffee, Spitfire,” Daire says over his shoulder. “I put it by the fire pit. Go kick your feet up and relax.”
I pass by the grill where the scent of spices perfumes the air as Kai and Griffin laugh at something, and the sun caresses my skin. I try to soak in every detail, wishing I could pause time to savor it all.
Lochlan steps next to me, setting a handful of glasses with dark liquid on the table before passing one to me.
The mood elixir.
“Ready, Witchling?” Challenge shines in his eyes.
“This game is hardly fair. I don’t remember what all the colors mean.”
The same chart he revealed earlier appears as he takes a glass.
With a soft sigh, I take a drink. It’s pleasant and sweet, tickling my nose and throat. The contents of my glass turn a light shade of yellow, which the chart reveals means content and happy.
“Is it accurate?” he asks.
“In the ballpark.” I nod to his drink. “Your turn.”
He tips his glass back, and we both watch as the contents turn orange: annoyance.
“Is it accurate?” I parrot.
The edges of his lips lift with amusement. “I’ll trade you a present thought for a present thought.”
“How?” We both know I can’t mindwalk.
“Do we have a deal?”
My gaze shifts to his orange glass before I nod, clearly lacking all common sense. Before I can ask any questions, the world blurs, and I’m back in the cozy, orderly room of his mind.
I’m about to tell him it’s not working, but he speaks first. Close your eyes and listen, Witchling.
I do, and suddenly the quiet din of Lochlan’s voice plays like a radio.
I’ve spent countless hours in your head and still rarely understand what you’re thinking or feeling. It’s infuriating and constant.
You should never be allowed to wear anything except those damn pajamas.
Heat flushes my skin.
It terrifies me that you’re going to hurt them. That they’re growing too attached and too intrigued to see reason or sense.
Will Faro be far enough away?
The name of the central territory gives me pause. Far enough away from what? From me?
How can you be this strong and still not use your elements?
My breath hitches. His voice is more intimate like this than if he were to whisper in my ear.
I will kill Ronan Yuri.
The rage and absoluteness shock me. There is no question, just certainty.
I don’t have time to be here.
The connection snaps like a book slammed shut, the absence of his thoughts a jarring emptiness before the sun burns too bright against my closed eyelids.
When I open my eyes, Lochlan’s staring at me, his silver eyes sharp with accusation. “What was that, Witchling? We agreed on a single thought.”
“You were the driver,” I say, voice hoarse.
Lochlan exhales a harsh breath through his nose. “Your thoughts are a disaster,” he says not offering what he heard.
He drains the contents of his glass in a single drink before the others join us, not leaving a drop for me to see what color it turns.