Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The risk
sapphire
Hot pain seared through my back, working its way through my shoulders and down my arms. It pulsed slow and deep, but I didn’t mind it.
A small part of me relished the way it gave life to my muscles.
I’d been still for so long, and I wasn’t used to it.
Back in The Grey I would walk to town everyday, but since dying, I’d spent a lot of time in bed.
I stood facing the tree line that stretched beyond the flower fields.
Tangerine sunlight spilt across the valley like a citrus liquid.
With fists clenched by my sides, I huffed out a breath.
I’d been out here for hours trying to figure out how to use the giant black appendages that stood between me and the ocean.
Yet I’d failed. The most I’d managed to do was make my wings twitch.
“You can do it,” Nik said behind me.
He’d been more than patient with me. Showing me ways to get my feet off the ground, but it was no use. The stupid wings had a mind of their own and didn’t want to budge.
“They’re useless. I’m useless,” I snapped.
The sway of boots in long grass sounded behind me as Nik sauntered closer. “That’s not true, Sapphire. You’re just learning. Everyone falls first.”
I glanced over my shoulder. He’d stopped a few paces away.
Always close but not close enough to be a threat.
I’d noticed the way he did that. Even back in his home.
He’d sit opposite me at the table, never next to me.
Or he’d take a wider path around the room if he needed to walk past. Always giving me the space I needed.
I didn’t know whether I loved or loathed it.
He’d made good on one thing: Never entering my room without my permission. But keeping one promise didn’t mean he’d keep all of them. It was only a matter of time.
I turned to face him, then ran a hand through my hair in defeat. “I don’t know how to get them to do what I want them to.”
His eyes searched mine. Always searching.
Observing. Lingering. I used to hate it, but in the last few days each time I caught him looking, I looked back.
It was becoming this unspoken language between us, where he silently asked if I was okay, and I’d reply in that same subtle way, reassuring him I was fine.
A gentle breeze played with his hair, messing the relaxed copper waves over his forehead and the tips of his ears. His broad frame sent a sprawling shadow towards me that swallowed my shoes.
He took a small step forwards, holding out his hand. “May I?”
My throat worked. I could say no to him . . . I was allowed to. Yet I knew the only way I was going to see the ocean before I left this place for good was if I could fly.
So I nodded softly.
He ambled towards me, resting gentle hands on either shoulder.
His touch was firm, burning through the thin fabric of my cream blouse I wore with brown trousers that clung to my legs like a second skin.
I wasn’t used to wearing such tight clothing but I figured it was the better choice for learning to fly.
I didn’t need to embarrass myself by ending up head first in the flowers with my ass on show.
I’d had enough of that already.
This was the closest we’d been since he carried me out of Oscuro, and I remembered his scent all too well.
I looked up into his face as he adjusted my posture, pushing my shoulders back before one hand reached to tilt my chin higher. “They’re not weights—they’re part of you. Stop fighting them,” his voice was firm, but soft.
If I could’ve stopped the tears pooling in my eyes, I would have. One managed to escape and tumble down my cheek. Nik’s gaze fixed on it, catching it with the pad of his thumb before brushing it away. “Breathe, then tell your mind to move them, just like you would your arms and legs.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, anything to keep me from falling apart under his gentle hand, and then I nodded.
He took a few steps back, giving me space. It shocked me that I almost missed him. With a shake of my head to clear my thoughts, I took a deep breath. I could do this. I had too.
I planted my feet in the grass, inhaling until my ribs ached and my throat felt dry. “Again,” I muttered to myself. “Just try again.”
Gentle winds danced through the fields, rustling my feathers as I closed my eyes. I pushed the way Nik had taught me, focusing on the pull in my core, the shift of my mind. Telling myself that my wings were a part of me.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
With gritted teeth, I pushed harder imagining being lifted off the ground. Picturing the freedom I would feel if I could take to the skies. Relishing in the way the wind would feel rushing over my skin.
Then—
A sudden flutter. Wings black as ink spread either side of me with a snap. I shot my gaze to Nik, who was grinning ear to ear, then I bent my knees and pushed. My toes left the ground. I threw my arms out to balance myself, but I didn’t fall.
I hovered barely two feet off the ground—air beneath me, wings humming like they finally remembered what they were made for.
A startled sound broke out of me—half laugh, half disbelieving choke.
But there was no denying the sound.
A real, unguarded laugh I hadn’t heard from myself in years.
Nik clapped his hands. “You’re flying!”
I dropped back to the ground a moment later, knees bending to catch me. Before I could stop, I leapt for Nik, throwing my arms around his neck in an excited hug. His broad hands steadied on my hips, sending a thrill to my core. Heat bloomed up my throat once I’d realised what I was doing.
Quickly, I stepped back, shoving my hands behind my back. “Sorry.”
He chuckled as he shook his head. “You’re allowed to be excited, Sapphire.”
I winced internally at the way he said my name. Sapphire was The Night Jewel. But here in Lucius, or anywhere else, I wanted to be Blythe. I wanted people to know my real name. I just didn’t know how to tell them, and besides I wouldn’t be staying long enough for my name to matter.
Nik looked up towards the skies, then back to me. “Let’s do it again.”
I lost track of how long we stayed in that field.
Minutes, maybe hours—I couldn’t tell. The only sign of time passing was the sun dipping lower.
Every attempt to fly blurred into the next.
Each pull of will power speared down my spine, the sharp snap of my wings, the jolt of air when I lifted higher and higher.
I flew, circling the field in shaky, uneven bursts that left my heart racing and my muscles trembling. I hadn’t felt alive like that in . . . ever.
But exhilaration only carried me so far.
My wings burned, my legs wobbled, and the last landing nearly sent me sprawling. I collapsed onto the ground, bracing my hand on my knees as I caught my breath.
Nik moved to a shady patch of the field and laid down on his back. He patted the earth beside him. “Come rest, you’ve well and truly earned it.”
I hesitated for a moment. Lying next to him in the grass seemed so intimate, so close, but I was too exhausted to fight with my own mind. I crawled towards him before flipping to sprawl on my back.
The sky was tinted pink, with billowing clouds of orange and gold. I sighed, letting the quiet wash over me. Flower heads bobbed with the breeze, nodding at me with sun kissed faces. I knew it wouldn’t always feel this way so I enjoyed it while I could.
Nik was silent beside me, and I found myself glancing at him, wanting to know what he was thinking.
Wanting to know more about him. The rush from earlier still buzzed beneath my skin, light and unsteady, like I hadn’t quite come back down yet.
Everything felt a little looser, a little less guarded, and before I could stop myself, the question slipped out. “What was your childhood like?”
He moved his head to look at me. “It was wonderful until it wasn’t. My mother died when I was young. Father grieved her for many years, and most of the farm responsibilities became mine.”
“And Adalia? What was it like growing up with her?”
He chuckled softly, returning his gaze to the sky. “Bossy. She always told me what to do, and she was usually right.”
“She seems strong, like not a lot rocks her,” I said
“She had to be. We both did—for father.” Nik brought his eyes back to me. “Something died in my father the day Mother left us. He was never the same again. Adalia, being the eldest, did her best to keep us together.”
Hearing Nik talk about his family stirred something in me. I know I wasn’t the only one to have family trauma, but knowing someone else had been through struggles lessened the ache inside my chest.
We lay side by side, shoulders almost touching, that tiny spark low in my stomach growing bigger with every passing second. “Why did you join the Light King's army?”
Silence passed for a brief moment before he shrugged. “I suppose protecting folk grew from watching the world as I aged. When I came through the Veil, I wanted to do something good.”
He huffed a quiet breath, gaze drifting somewhere beyond the clouds.
“I saw what happens when no one steps in,” he added.
“People who didn’t need saving from monsters or war—just someone to hold back the dark.
A kid getting shoved around because no one thought he’d fight back.
A woman too afraid to speak because no one would listen. ”
He moved his arm to place it under the back of his head. “I got tired of watching it happen,” he said simply. “Figured I’d rather be the one who steps in than the one who looks away.”
I hadn’t known anyone besides Meeka who held that kind of goodness in their heart.
“How long have you been here in Lucius?” I asked.
“Ten years.”
“So how old does that make you?”
“Are you going to tease me if I tell you?”
I huffed softly. “I’d tease you about other things, but not your age.”
He grinned, brows lifted in intrigue. “I’m one hundred and four.”