His head snapped to her. She had never called him Xee before, it was something only his brothers and friends called him.
“Come on,” he grunted, allowing her to guide him down the hall that he used to run around as a babe.
The room was open when she found the correct door, the bed made up in various shades of purple, the candles lit and flickering. His attention remained on Kyra, her shoulders tightening slightly when she spotted the single bed. She didn’t comment as she sat down on the edge, her eyes scanning the delicate details in the wall until she found another dark stain just left of the dresser.
It wasn’t as big of scar as the one in the hall, but it remained there as a memory, and as a warning of all what had happened. He wasn’t sure if his mother had chosen this room on purpose, or that there were more scars throughout the other bedrooms.
A line appeared between her brows, and then she carefully slipped off the bed to her knees. “It holds an echo,” she said, her voice holding a slight rasp as she reached forward until she was able to touch her fingertips to it.
“You can still feel it?” he asked, gesturing to the manacle.
Kyra glanced down. “It’s muffled, but I can still feel my magic. I could probably call to it if I tried, but I don’t want to give them any more reason to hate me.”
“They have no magic of their own, and detest everyone who can use it. I’m surprised they trusted a merchant who sold such goods.”
“It works, just not to the extent they were probably sold to believe.” She looked up, amber orbs holding sorrow and unshed tears. Her fingers pressed harder against the scar. “What happened?”
“Their culture is to honour the dead, gifts to help spirits find their way into the light. There was a coven of black witches that wanted to use our gifts for their own selfish needs. They wanted to control the dead, use them as a source of power.”
Kyra sucked in a breath, a single tear escaping down her cheek. “And they didn’t take no for an answer?” she whispered. “How many?”
He knew what she asked, found himself reluctant to answer. “They murdered thirty-two including children.”
Her smile was sad, her voice tight when she spoke. “I understand why you hate me.”
Pain twisted his stomach, his hand itching to wipe away that tear that glistened on her cheek. “I don’t hate you,” he said, realising as soon as the words left his lips that it was the truth. “You didn’t do this.”
“No, but others like me did.” She pulled her hand back, cradling it against her chest. “I’m sorry.”
“There’s no one else like you.” Her dark amber orbs snapped to his, an emotion he couldn’t pinpoint flashing across those irises.
“We should shower,” she said, climbing to her feet. “Before they call us for dinner.”
He couldn’t miss the chance to tease her. “Like our last shower?”
A blush burned across her cheeks, drying her eyes. She wasn’t sure how to take the comment, and her uncertainty made him laugh.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed but they live a much simpler life here. There’s no electricity whatever, and only the most basic plumbing.”
Kyra spared a panicked glance to the adjoining bathroom.
Xander grinned. “Don’t worry, I’ll show you how I used to bathe as a boy.”
Chapter20
Kyra
Kyra wasn’t sure what she expected, but this certainty wasn’t it. Xander had guided her through the frozen gardens, towards a large open building just at the edge of the surrounding woodland. Rose and lavender drifted up from the milky water, the heat stinging her cold skin.
“A communal bath?”
Xander chuckled, probably because of her expression. They had passed several people on their way, and not one had acknowledged either of them. Even now, the eight or so who were already enjoying the hot water immediately turned their backs, and then quickly left, leaving them alone.
Xander’s face was smooth as stone, relaxed while she struggled to control her pulse.
“The water’s created by the rivers and lakes that are fed by the mountain springs. The water’s pure, but they’ve added a few homeopathy herbs and minerals.”
Kyra bit her lip, dropping down to touch the water. It was hot, the texture somehow smooth and glistening on her skin. The bath seemed to have been carved from rocks, the cold air from the open front sending goosebumps across her skin.
