The door to mycabin is thrown open, and I shriek as I come up to sit in my bed, half-dazed and hair strewn about my face.
“Good morning, Princess.”
“What thefuck?” I pull the blanket up to my chest despite the fact that I am completely decent underneath. “What if I was lying here naked?”
Kai scoffs as he steps up to the foot of the bed, crossing his arms over his chest. The black tattoo that adorns his right arm seems to suck the sunlight right to it, making it stand out evenmore. He’s shaved his face, his golden brown skin smooth and gleaming while the damp strands of his dark brown hair are pushed back. Though his clean scent is subtle, I can still smell him from the head of the bed. “Luckily for us both, you aren’t.”
I’m going to punch him again.The bastard smiles like he can hear my inner thoughts.
“Why are you here?” I ask, pushing the blanket off of me completely and coming up to stand.
I comb my fingers through my hair, moving the curls away from my face in an attempt to tame them. Kai doesn’t answer my question, his gaze lingering on what my hands are doing instead. His body goes rigid, his biceps bulging from the way his hands press into his arms. Yet he stares at my hair as if it’s going to walk off my head and right to him.
“Why do you do that?”
My question knocks him from his stupor, his eyes snapping to mine. They look more amber today, perhaps from the way the sunlight shines on them. “Do what?”
I take a step towards him, my hands fisting at my sides. “Why do you stare at my hair as if it personally offends you?”
His nostrils flare as his eyes drag down my body. I’m wearing a thin night chemise, the silky light blue fabric falling to mid-thigh and clinging to my curves. I take another small step forward, forcing his eyes to meet my own.
“You’re imagining things.”
“Imagining your attention would be a nightmare I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy. No, I think you stare at my hair because youlikeit.” I lean forward, bitterness seeping into my voice. “And youdespisethat you do.”
The tension in the cabin is like a raging firestorm, brutal and burning and growing the longer we glare at each other. His body is full of coiled energy just waiting to strike; I can see it in the way his eyes blaze and in the clench of his jaw, the musclefluttering there. He leans in too, hardly leaving a few inches between our chests as they heave with our strained breaths. “The only thing Ilikeabout you is that you have the capability to fix the blight on our magic with your own. Beyond that, I havezerointerest in any part of you.”
I still, air ripping from my lungs like the oxygen has been sucked out of the room, at the reminder that he expects me to have magic. That he isn’t aware he is bringing someone onto his island who is known for her brain and not her ability to wield magic.Fuck.I jolt back, needing space as I think of how to respond.
Something unreadable flashes quickly in his gaze before he turns on his heel. “Dress and pack quickly. We’ll be on the island within the hour.”
His booted footsteps thud on the wood as he walks out without another word, slamming the door shut behind him.
I close my eyes and tilt my head back, blowing out a slow breath. The tiniest feeling of guilt seeps into my bones as I pace around the cabin. I shouldn’t feel bad. The ancient magic of our worldchose me. King Kai himself chastised Daje for complaining that the magic chose wrong when it settled on me, and yet… I groan, running my hands over my face.
Packing up my belongings is easy considering that I never really unpacked them to begin with. I bring my trunk onto the deck, setting it next to the rest of the crew’s things. My backpack carries not only the mage journals and magnifier, as I’m not willing to risk anything happening to them should anyone decide to mistreat my luggage again, but my spear as well. With nothing else to do but wait, I walk to the edge of the deck and lean against the railing, the island nearly upon us.
Though I have seen it to scale on maps in books, there is something quite different about observing it in person. Already, I can tell that it is much more green than any drawing in a book could depict. The color is so vibrant that it glows like a gem amongst the endless blues of the sky above and the water below.
The ship slowly pulls into the port where a handful of others are already docked. Though it’s just past sunrise, the heat of the sun causes sweat to bead on my brow. I gather my hair up into a ponytail and then check my backpack to make sure it and my spear are still secure. The humidity of the island is sweltering as I wait for the rest of the crew to disembark before making our way over the creaking planks, the glimmer of the Spell ahead of us. Waves crash up the sides of the dock, misting my heated skin. The salty scent of the ocean saturates the air, but another scent is woven into it—one that’s earthier in a different way from back home. It carries with it a zing of citrus and sharply potent floral notes.
Damn it, it smells like the king.
Where the Mage Kingdom is full of verdant green bushes and trees and small sprouting flowers, the shifter isle is lush with long-stemmed plants and leaves of nearly every color. It’s so vivid and electrifying in its intensity that my steps falter as I look around.
The shifters ahead of me pass through the Spell effortlessly, but I pause a foot before it. This is the same Spell that lines my own kingdom, that lines them all, but I still harbor apprehension at the thought of crossing.A throat clears behind me, one of the shifter males staring with a brow drawn up when I look over my shoulder. Gripping the straps of my backpack, I take a deep breath and walk forward. From what I have read, those who pass through the Spell know immediately that their magic—or in the case of the mortals, their youth—is dwindling though it can take days before death arrives. I loose a quiet sigh when I crossover and don’t feel anything other than the soft sensation of the magic.
Continuing down the pier, I look once more over my shoulder at the shifters behind me, and like an arrow finding its target, I lock eyes with King Kai. His granite features seem even more hardened, no emotion pulling on his face at all. He glares at me with his usual malice, so I roll my eyes and turn back around. We descend a short staircase and step right onto the sandy edges of the beach. The granules are finer than those on mage shores, easier to sink into with each step.
The sand finally gives way to a rocky path, the small pebbles clashing together under the steps of our procession. My eyes bounce from each new plant and tree as I categorize it all in my mind, committing them to memory so that I might be able to identify them in a book. Excitement tingles on the tips of my fingers, my heart beating loudly in my ears as I think of all I will be able to see and learn that isn’t related to magic.
We continue walking for another twenty minutes, the humidity so oppressive that, by the time I hear the familiar noises of city life, I’m ready to just walk around nude. Sweat coats every inch of me, my breathing labored even though I’m not exerting myself physically. It’s like I’m trying to breathe underwater.
“We are entering the capital,” one of the shifters shouts from ahead, probably for my benefit.
My knowledge on the Shifter Kingdom’s capital, Molsi, is paltry, only facts like their most popular export and last known populace bounce around uselessly in my mind. Small huts lining either side of our walkway come into view, people surrounding them in small groups. Though “hut” seems like too rudimentary a word to describe the dwellings that are spread out over the landscape. Some are only one story, circular in shape, and made with a mixture of wood, stone, and what looks like dried-out fronds. Others are made of the same materials but stand three stories tall. While the structures back home are whimsical, adorned by the land itself, here they appear more practical. No frill or fanciness, just what is needed to make a sturdy home or business.
The stone used is a brilliant white, and it looks softer than the dragon stone I’m used to, like one could carve into it with a fingernail. Light green ferns dot the ground on either side of what has turned into a central roadway, tiny flowers growing in the spaces between from rich dark brown soil. Plants with wide and glossy leaves in a striated white and green color draw my eye every few feet. The colors of everything here are so crisp that I’m apt to believe they are hues I’ve never seen before. Rolling rocky hills dotted with trees line the horizon in all directions as I turn slowly to take everything in. Larger homes are built right into some of the hilltops, their white stone stark against the dark rock. I always presumed the Mage Kingdom to be the most beautiful of Olymazi, but even I must admit quietly to myself that this kingdom rivals it.
