I want to answer. I want to say I did not want to be a burden, but I swallow the words and they leave a bitter aftertaste.
“Do you regret it?” he asks.
“Of course I do,” I snap. The hurt on his face breaks my heart.
I jerk up, searching for words to explain that I was the happiest I’d ever been when he offered me mating. But how could I dare to be happy when they all died because of me?
“That is settled then,” he says, venom dripping from his words.
“Are we done then?” I ask, lacking the energy to continue this conversation.
Wow, you are mature as hell,Aidon’s mental voice says.
My power stirs, ready to defend me. I do not want it to act on its own. Knowing I cannot control it fully, I let a small orb of light form in my hand.
Now I have to roll with it, or I will look even more ridiculous.
“I do not recommend taking a step closer, I do not want to hurt you,” I hiss.
I am supposed to be an architect, destined to inherit the ability to create entire cities on a whim, like Gorok, my creator. Instead, my power is a menace. From the first moment it awakened, it twisted into something ugly.
The light is a basic skill for children, but while Arken power is supposed to be a calming breeze, mine is a fucking storm. I don’t know what makes me so defective compared to other Beriganders.
I have zero self-control. If I wield it inside the building, I will destroy something. He must know it better than anyone, but at this moment, letting it act out is easier than having a grown-up conversation.
“What are you going to do? Kill us?” Jestin spits. His mask is slipping.
My power erupts as my non-existent control slips. The windows shatter.
I rush to cover my face, but Jestin is quick. He waves his hand, and the glass turns to sand. The shards freeze in mid-air before falling harmlessly to the ground in granules.
The room becomes instantly hot, and not just because of the desert air.
Aidon’s Fae-form appears between myself and Jestin. He changed shape mid-flight so fast I didn’t even notice the sound of bones snapping.
“I recommend taking a step back, Sunny Boy,” Aidon says, his hands in his pockets — arrogant, but undeniably sexy.
“Jestin is right,” I reply.
Grains of sand gather around us, responding to Jestin’s emotions.
I shrink back, desperately trying to control the storm within me. The magic tastes sour in my mouth, ready to take down anyone who upsets me. I force it back down into the well and summon a wary smile, pretending it was my goal all along.
I know I do not fool him.
“You could have said something. I would have given you space.” Jestin is gritting his teeth. “There is nothing I would not have given you. You just needed to trust me.”
I wince.
I deserve it, but it still hurts. My haunted memories surface without my consent, and Aidon flinches when he sees them. I only watch as he observes my darkest moments. I should feel anger, but only resignation seeps in. My fingers clench into tight fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms, as I focus on schooling my features, refusing to shed a single tear in front of these males.
After a long moment, Aidon nods towards Jestin. Their gazes lock for what feels like an eternity.
They are clearly talking about me.
Judge me.
I glance at my satchel, tempted to reach for my flask, but decide against it. Jestin would throw a fit if I did.
