“You have a plan?” he asked.
“Not even slightly. But I’m not going to let that stop me this time.” Her face glowed with quiet anticipation as she closed the drapes against the cold night outside. “How can I plan for anything when the world keeps throwing curveballs at me?”
“That doesn’t terrify you?”
“Not anymore. I’ve got something else to be scared of, instead.” She took his hands, staring up at him with such warmth and love that he felt as though the sun was rising in his heart. “I didn’t want to turn my mom’s life upside down, so I never told her about Tomás. She never told me what was happening to her, because she was afraid it would do the same to me. And you didn’t want to hurt me, so you never told me I was your mate. We all keep closing ourselves off, never even making the attempt in case it goes off anything less than perfectly.” Shestepped towards him. “You’re so sure your duskfire will hurt me, you’ve never even let it touch me.”
“Hurt is all it does.” His tongue felt thick. Maya’s shining confidence was too much. He couldn’t bear the thought of all that joy crumbling.
She frowned. “We’ve been wrong about everything else so far. Why not risk it?”
“I would risk myself. I would never risk you.”
“Then letmerisk myself.”
He shook his head. “Generations of my family can’t have been wrong about this. And even if they were—no other Blackburn has the problem I have. No other Blackburn’s fire burns high when they think of claiming their mate.” His shoulders sagged as he admitted what he should have told her from the start. “There’s something wrong with me, Maya. I’m sorry.”
She lifted her chin, still trusting, but challenging, too. “Show me.”
He let his wings spread. Carefully. Not touching her or anything of hers.
She caught her breath, eyes shining with curiosity and something more as she inspected his duskfire. “Now, the temptation is strong to just plunge my hands in and see what happens, but—”
He reeled back. “No!”
“No,” she agreed. “I wouldn’t do that to you. Let’s do a test.” She raised one hand.
“Maya, if I hurt you—”
“Then I’ll forgive you.” She gave a crooked smile. “And at least we’ll know. Instead of dancing around, assuming the worst, and never finding out for sure.”
Every bad thing his magic had done to this town spun around in his head. The broken window. The Dans sporting thesame blackened eyes and limps they had so many times in his memory.
His younger cousins’ stricken faces after they flew in their miserable magic. Every competitor he’d ever threatened with the looming weight of his power behind him.
His grandfather’s words.
Our magic is NEVER a part of the claiming ritual.
This wasn’t going to work.
“Corin.” Maya’s gentle voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said helplessly.
“I know. But we can’t let fear of whatmighthappen dictate what we do with our lives. Any more than we already have. I’m your queen. Let me give a few orders. Let’s start with one hand.” She turned it around. “It’s had a few scrapes in its time. Grazed knuckles. I burned my thumb on a hot stove, years ago. But nothing permanent.”
“Those injuries will come back.”
“Sure. And they’ll heal again. That’s why we’re starting our experiment with this hand, not the other one, so I don’t have to explain to you how I managed to sew a line straight through my middle finger in elementary school. Ready?”
He wasn’t ready. But she was. He nodded.
She would see there was nothing good to the duskfire. If this was where it ended between them—perhaps he deserved that.
Lips pressed together, a thin line of concentration between her eyebrows, Maya rested her palm against his shadowy wing and slowly pushed it into the fire.
It was the most intimate thing he’d ever felt. His mate willingly touching a part of him that he’d thought was a weapon—touching it gently, as though she might hurt it, not the other way around.
