“Fuck,” he bellowed in frustration. Taking a step away, he ransacked his hair with his hands as if taking it out on himself.
I didn’t dare say a word, heat still radiating off of him at an ungodly temperature.
He whirled and faced me, looking slightly crazed with wide eyes and disheveled hair. I was too shocked at his reaction to muster any of my own thoughts.
No sooner had his eyes locked back on mine than they formed into slits, the temperature now plummeting, and I held my breath, knowing that somehow this side of him was more dangerous.Shivers rippled across my skin, his presence feeling eerily close to Amos’.
“Artton,” I choked out.
“Fuck,” he said again, only this time it was lower as he scrubbed a hand across his face. Now looking more stressed than angry, he turned the full weight of his gaze on me. “So, the mercenary didn’t catch you by surprise.”
I shook my head, knowing where his train of thought had gone.
“Whatcanyou do?”
I looked down at my feet, suddenly ashamed.
“Nyleeria.”
Swallowing, I forced my gaze back to his and raised my hand, releasing a festival of colored embers that I’d been able to do even as a human.
His eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as his face turned red, anger stirring again. I closed my palm.
Taking another pace toward me, he took in a deep breath, jaw now set. “I could have sworn it was your magic that damaged the hallway that day, not Endymion’s.”
“It was,” I admitted, voice low.
“Well, whatever you just showed me is a far cry from what it would take to create that kind of damage.”
I nodded in agreement.
“Why do Endymion and Caius think you need to dispel if you can’t muster more than a tiny light show, then?”
“Honestly, I don’t know, Artton. Sometimes, like with Endymion, it just builds up and I can’t keep hold of it.”
“And do you feel that now?”
I took a moment to feel for it, but like it had when I was facing a bolt to the chest, the spark was nowhere to be found.
Feeling deflated, I shook my head.
“What are you feeling right now?” Artton asked, voice low and kinder than I’d heard from him so far.
“Nothing,” I said. “It just won’t answer me.”
“No, Nyleeria. I meant what emotions are you feeling?”
I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly very aware of how much I was loath to answer his question. Swallowing I said, “I’m afraid and—” I cut myself off, not wanting to offer him so much, to be vulnerable with him.
“And…” he coaxed.
My eyes darted down to the ground. “Ashamed,” I whispered. Feeling like such a failure. The Fates had made a mistake in giving me this power.
“And in the hallway, with Endymion. What were you feeling then?”
Again, the kindness in his words shook me. Raising my focus back to him, I thought back, focusing on the emotions. “Anger. He’d pissed me off.”
Artton smirked for a split second before his face turned serious again. “And when he helped you dispel, how was that different?”
