“Ash!” Race yelled as he took form inside his massive quarters, for the first time he’d set foot in them. Her scent had led him straight there. Smoke, ozone, and her tears hit him all at once.
She sat on the floor, near the wall, her knees drawn up, face buried, lightning still crackling around her in wild, dizzying arcs. The only light came from the fire in the hearth, casting a warm glow in the darkened room.
“Ash.” He crouched in front of her, reaching through the static to smooth back her tangled hair. The energy snapped against his skin like fiery barbs. Good thing hewasfire. “What happened?” he demanded. “Are you okay?”
She lifted her head, her eyes red-rimmed, lashes wet. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. “I’m fine. Just…overwhelmed. My powers are a little erratic.”
A little?The damn room was saturated with her energy. He could taste it in the air, bright with electric grief.
She pushed away from him. Back on her feet, she crossed to the bed and started shoving things into her backpack. Her chestrose and fell. The crackle eased, the current seeping back into her.
Calm again—too damn calm for the grief he still tasted in the air. Every instinct in him roared in warning.
He rose, his gaze tracking her every movement. “When you’re scared, it rains,” he said softly, moving closer. “And when you’re angry…or hurt, it’s lightning.”
She didn’t look at him. “I’d really appreciate it if you could retrieve my luggage from Khetra House.”
“I’ll get them for you when we go back to the abbey.”
“No, I’m not going to the abbey. Send them here.” She dropped the lavender soap, grabbed some shirts. “I’d fetch them myself if I could, but I can’t travel.”
“Ash…” He firmed his voice because softness wasn’t working. “I said I’ll get your things. Want to tell me what’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing.” She cast him a perplexed look that didn’t fool him. “I just need my passport, is all.”
He stilled, eyes narrowing. While Ash could be a tempest, this wasn’t her—this was sheer ice. “What’s a passport?”
“Oh, it’s an annoying little book proving you’re a citizen of a country.” She removed her clothes from the backpack again and folded each one with precision. “It’s the only way I can go home. I’m leaving the moment you return with my things.”
He didn’t bother to tell her that the psionics, especially ones like her, couldn’t live a normal life amongst the humans—she was shutting down too hard to hear him.
“This is yours.” He took themorvaenstone from his pocket and held it out.
She didn’t even glance at it. “Keep it. I don’t need it.”
His jaw clenched, his fingers fisting the gem. “What’s going on, Ash?”
“Nothing.” She started folding a shirt. “I live in England. There’s no reason for me to keep searching for Janika.Obviously, she wouldn’t know the truth beyond my birth mother dying and my parents adopting me.” Another fold. Another wall between them. “I’ll wait till you get back with my bags, then book my ticket home.”
Ire swept through him that she retreated behind this stoic mask, one he fucking hated.
HisAsh was warmth and fire, not this frostbitten stranger.
He grasped her wrist before she could pack the shirt. “You left me downstairs in one frame of mind, and now this. You suddenly want to leave? What the hell happened?”
“Nothing happened.” Her voice stayed perfectly composed, like he was the volatile one—and he was fucking close. “I just realized some lessons take longer to learn than others, that’s all.”
His eyes narrowed. “Explain.”
She pulled free, shoved the shirt in, and buckled her pack. Only the slight tremor in her fingers betrayed her emotions. “Look, I like you, but we both want different things. Back on Earth, I see that clearly now. I suppose all that insane danger I faced had my adrenaline working overtime, and I sort of agreed to you and me…being together, but?—”
Her words hit harder than the gates of Tartarus slamming shut.
Dragging in lungfuls of air, he turned to the glass wall, his fists curling and uncurling. After everything they’d faced, after finally breaking through walls to be together, she suddenly decided this wasn’t what she wanted?
He spun back. “So, you’re leaving, without giving me a chance to prove I’m not like the bastard who hurt you?” What the fuck else could it be?
“Prove?” she flung back, her composure finally cracking. Her eyes blazed with barely contained power. “Provewhat, Race?”
