My stomach swoops, low and deep. “I can’t explain it, before you ask. I didn't even know it was possible to dothat. Whatever that was.”
To bring him back from the edge of death.
This is not Hala’s maegis.
His other hand brushes my cheek. I wonder if he can feel the heat, as I can. “You seem to be rather good at impossible things, Selene.”
Hardly. I feel like a stumbling fawn, naïve and lost in territory I do not know how to navigate. Uncertainty has my feet shifting, but my eyes pin on his chest. Tracking its rise and fall.
“Look at me,” Callan whispers. “Please.”
“Thepretium—,”
“Gone.” My eyes jerk up. There is no trace of the night sky I just saw in his gaze. Only those eyes that threaten to burn my skin with their warmth. “My maegis—it’s full. As if I haven’t touched a single thread for months.”
Gods, his eyeschanged.I’d think I’d imagined it, were it not for Sol’s shock. Even now, I can sense him assessing us silently.
My fingers rise of their own accord to touch a scarlet stain against the rough skin of his cheek. My thundering heart settles. “The bleeding has stopped.”
He doesn’t respond. Callan’s eyes trace my face, as though he’s learning every inch. And my breath leaves my body when hetugs on my hand, stepping closer until we collide. My face finds his neck, my lips against his pulse as I inhale sharply and hesqueezesme.
Callan’s heart still beats. But it matches mine, both of us in perfect synchronicity. I let a little of my fear out, murmuring the words against his skin. It’s easier to speak the truth like this. “I don’t know what this means, Callan. It’s not possible. And if itis, I don’t understand why my sisters would have kept this ability hidden from me.”
It hurts to think that they held so much back.
But at my words, he stiffens. “Selene—do not tell anyone in Asteria about this.”
Callan cups my cheeks, his voice hardening. “Promise me. You must not tell them. They’ll use it. Useyou, if they think you can stop thepretium. They’ll try to use you as it is. Don’t give them a single thing more than you need to.”
“He’s right.” We turn, Callan’s hands slipping from my face. Esme glances between us. Uncertain. “We’re getting closer. But Callan is right. Petyr will use you if he thinks you can halt the effects. None of us will say anything, but we’ll need to explain your sudden recovery, Cal. I don’t think Petyr will accept a blessing from the gods.”
Callan looks over my shoulder, and then down at me. “I think we can make a good enough show, with Matthias’s help.”
When he steps away from me, he takes every bit of warmth with him, leaving me cold.
A hand envelops mine. Callan says nothing, even as he tugs, towing me along with him as we walk past everyone’s staring faces. Callan strides up the steps toward the upper deck, and I’m manoeuvred into the small space between the rudder and the railings. I suck in the cool air, watching as he scans the night sky around us, before looking back at me.
“I need you to stay here,” he says crisply to my obvious confusion. “Right here, where I can keep an eye on you. Please.”
I don’t understand this male. “Why?”
His hands grip the spokes of the rudder as he inhales. “I keep nearly losing you. And if I’m to have any hope of landing us, I need to know you’re not going to throw yourself from the ship while my back is turned, or almost get yourself killed by a wraith. Given our odds so far, I’d prefer to keep you close. At least while I need to concentrate.”
His breathing warms my ear as he leans forward. “So stay here, beside me, for these last few minutes. Please.”
“You’re not responsible for my actions.” I frown. “But if it helps.”
The look he gives me makes me wonder if I’ve missed something. “Yes. Ithelps.”
My heart trips over a beat before correcting itself as his jaw tightens. Perhaps it’s the maegis. I can almost understand his confusion, the warmth that was chased away returning as soon as he took my hand.
I tap my finger against my lips, staring at him. Then at my hand. Back to his face.
His brow furrows as he stares ahead. “Selene.”
“Yes?”
“Stop looking at me like that.” He taps his hand against the rudder. His lips twist upward, as if sharing a joke with himself. “Or I might have to do something about it.”
