“I’m fine,” I said.
His stoic expression remained unchanged and the melodic sounds of a beautiful piece sounded through the glass as the pianist returned to his instrument of choice. I glanced inside, shivering at the warmth contained within the ballroom.
"Are you cold?"
"No," I lied.
He responded by slipping off his jacket and placing it around my shoulders. It was soft and immediately transferred hiswarmth to my skin. His hand grazed my arm as he put it on and I was acutely reminded of the moments our blades would strike during our sparring match. It was there between us, a connection that felt alive.
"I can feel it?the energy in the air. All the time. Especially around you. I still have no idea what it is but I can tell there’s something about you that’s different from the others. Even the others that are already different,” I said.
His expression yielded nothing. I shifted and faced him, studying him carefully. I couldn’t figure it out. I was simultaneously at ease and utterly uncomfortable around him. It was like I’d known him all my life but I didn’t know his last name. What was it that I was missing?
“Who are you?” I whispered, desperate for someone to answer me.
He stared out at the snow-laden gardens. "Does being in my presence give you pause?"
A hint of discomfort forced me to shift. I didn’t like the distance in his tone, the doubt.
“Pause regarding what?”
He commanded such a presence that, when he turned, it immobilized me. He moved forward, closing the space between us, close enough that I could smell the sweet wine on his breath.
I stayed my ground but his proximity immediately increased my heart rate and caused my muscles to tighten, reducing the vibrating tension throughout. He was so close that if I took a deep breath our chests would have touched. He inclined his head as he lowered his lips to my ear.
“In being close to me,” he murmured, a tingle trailed down my ear to my neck making me shudder.
The air around us felt as if it had stopped moving. He withdrew, but only enough that I could look into his eyes.
“No. Being in your presence puts everything in motion,” I said quietly. "Do you think I should stay away from you?"
Blake let out a low chuckle with a slight one-sided grin. "Almost certainly."
His amusement at my answer was fraught with mirthless irony. But that wasn’t all there was in his revealing statement. There was sorrow in his words, just like Roslyn. And, like her, sorrow felt like an understatement.
“Why did you go home after that night in the tower?” I asked.
Blake closed his eyes. “It was the anniversary of my mother’s death. I went back to pay my respects.”
My heart dropped. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago,” he said.
Laced in his carefully veiled words was something more than grief though—something I understood all too well.
Self-loathing.
I could feel it as if it were my own, like a familiar memory dredged up by a scent I hadn’t noticed for a long time. It pierced me at my core and while it did make him dangerous, I was too smitten to feel fear. Evil men didn’t offer cold, confused women their coats to stay warm. Still, there was a warning in his words, too. There was something in his life to fear but it wasn’t him.
There was something far more sinister at work within the minds of those I found most intriguing. It was powerful and concerning but I couldn’t decipher if the substance of my interactions with the Aurkai, unique though they were to each of them, was made from the same material. The hum, the energy, the odd occurrences, the overwhelming and all-consuming power that took hold of me on a level I didn’t know existed—yes, there was something here, or perhaps deep within, that both terrified and exhilarated me, depending on who I was with.
The only thing I was sure about was that I didn’t trust Blake; however, I was also sure that he wasn’t a threat to me.
"Why almost?” I asked. “When I asked if I should stay away from you, you saidalmostcertainly. Which means you don’t really think I should stay away—which is funny because there’s almost no chance that will happen.”
Blake smiled, his gaze unwavering.
“You certainly do not heed warnings well,” he said.
