Brakes squeal, and they both flinch. Maybe she should have warned Cerian first.
When the train slows, Cerian darts for the door, and Arisanna follows. The last thing she wants is to be left behind in the dark forest.
Just outside, Cerian stops, and Arisanna bumps into him.
“Sorry,” she murmurs. “What’s wrong?”
He glances back at her before taking a step down the stairs, and she gasps.
It’s not a forest this time.
It’s a snowy tundra.
Cerian’snotdressedforwintery weather, but he’s burning so hot right now it hardly matters. The icy air offers him a hint of relief, and he’s about to bury his flaming palms in the snow when Arisanna stops him.
“Careful. Don’t give yourself frostbite.”
“I need to let some of this heat out.”
Especially if she’s going to stand so near him.
“We could build a snowman.”
“A what?”
She gapes at him. “You’ve never built a snowman?”
“If I say no, you will insist on making me experience this...snowman-building, won’t you?”
“Come on, Cerian. It will be fun.” When she smiles up at him, his fire magic flares, and he groans.
This is ridiculous. At least he didn’t scare her off earlier. With a grunt, he lobs his balls of fire high into the air, and Arisanna gasps.
Perhaps he should have warned her first.
“Did that help?” she asks.
He shakes out his hands and then studies his palms. “It did.”
“Do it again.”
He looks back at her. “Why?”
“Maybe if you drain your magic more, you’ll feel better. Unless that will bring out the bear.”
He should never have told her that.
“My fire magic is...different.”
She steps toward him. “Not drained as easily?”
He shakes his head, and when he doesn’t speak, she steps closer.
He can barely hold his feet in place. She’s right in front of him now. Slowly, she reaches for his hand, trailing her fingers over his palm as his heart speeds up. Or hers does.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“I’m...not sure. Testing your magic? Your hand is still hot. Wouldn’t you be able to relax easier if you let out more of this fire that burns inside you?”
