“I can help.”
His eyes brighten, the silver glow intensifying until it becomes white. The air around him seems to shimmer like heat rising from pavement in summer, like he’s generating his own atmosphere.
His hands close around my upper arms. They’re enormous. At first, the steel is cool through my sleeves, then warmth seeps through the fabric. It’s not gentle or gradual, it’s a wave of heat that crashes into my system.
I shudder. The contrast between freezing and sudden warmth is painful and shocking, but in the best way possible. Like stepping into a hot bath when you’re frozen through, or pressing your hands against a radiator after coming in from a blizzard. Heat sinks into my muscles and spreads through my bones, radiating from where his hands grip my arms, spreading outward in ripples I can feel moving through my body.
A moan escapes my lips before I can stop it. The sound is embarrassing, but I can’t help it.
“Thank you. That’s... That feels amazing...”
My voice breaks on the last word, and my knees buckle. The strength just goes out of my legs, like someone cut the strings holding me up.
Castien catches me before I hit the ground. One arm slides around my waist, and the other supports my back. He lowers himself to sit on the floor and pulls me with him. I don’t resist. I can’t. I have nothing left.
He sits with his back against the wall and positions me between his thighs, pulling me back against him. My back presses against his chest, and I realize once again just how much larger he is than me, how much space he takes up. I’m completely engulfed by him. Surrounded. His arms wrap around me, crossing over my stomach, his hands resting against my ribs. His chest is solid – a wall of warm steel. His thighs bracket mine on either side, and he brings his wings forward, caging us both in.
It’s like sitting inside a furnace. Heat radiates from every single point of contact. Castien’s warmth is everywhere, inescapable and perfect. It seeps through my clothes and into my skin, sinking deep into my core, where the cold has settled like ice.
My shivering subsides. The violent tremors that have been wracking my body ease into smaller shakes, then fade. Mymuscles unknot one by one, my shoulders drop, and my jaw unclenches. The relief is so intense it’s almost overwhelming. My eyes sting with tears that don’t fall. I feel like I might cry from the sheer relief of not being cold anymore.
I rest my head back against his chest. It feels too heavy to hold up anymore.
“I didn’t know you could do this.” My voice comes out drowsy. “Heat yourself up, I mean.”
Castien squeezes me just a little tighter.
“I can explain how it works,” he says.
“Mhm… I’m curious.”
“I was created in 1502 by Leonardo da Vinci,” he begins. “He didn’t just build a machine. He used forbidden alchemy stolen from the Vatican archives and trapped a spark of life inside a shell of metal. I’m not a robot exactly, I’m an artificial soul housed in steel.”
I blink slowly, trying to process that. What does it mean that he’s not a robot? And how is an artificial soul… a soul at all?
“I have an Aether Core,” Castien continues. “It’s located here.”
One of his hands shifts and presses against his chest behind me. Now I realize the warmth is concentrated in that spot.
“It’s the source of everything. It’s my consciousness and my light. It generates endless energy and perpetual motion. This was da Vinci’s greatest achievement. Creating eternal life without God’s permission.”
“Heresy,” I murmur.
“Yes. The energy manifests as light, and it can be converted to heat. I don’t need warmth for myself. My systems function at any temperature. Neither cold nor heat affects me. But I can produce it if I choose to. I can control my internal temperature and make my body warm from the inside out.”
I’m dozing off. I can’t fight it anymore, can’t keep my eyes open. The warmth, the safety, and the utter exhaustion are pulling me under like a riptide.
“So, you don’t usually warm up like this,” I say.
“No.”
“But you’re doing it now.”
“Yes.”
“For me.”
He doesn’t answer that. The silence stretches out, but it’s not uncomfortable. Maybe he doesn’t need to answer. Maybe the answer is obvious in how he’s holding me, in the heat radiating from every part of him, and the care he’s taking to keep me warm and safe.
