But any subversion of that, any sign of instability, worried people.
Now with Zayn and my loves it wasn’t about them seeing me as a danger or anything. It was about my emotional, mental, and physical health, and them worrying about the burden on me straining things. I knew they actually cared aboutme, not the image of what I was to others—or what others thought I was.
But it was still a risk to have even my loves seeing any perceived issues with me.
And that would only change when this Ruxnoth situation did.
Soon.
Just a little more time.
“Ready?” I asked Zayn, shifting my weight and taking aim at the pressure plate.
He got back into it, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Yeah. Give it to me.”
A spark of need rolled through me at his choice of phrasing.
I blinked, and zeroed in on the plate, feeling my amber spheres perfectly synced to my will.
Zayn looked to me.
He wanted me to hit first, and he’d be the balance.
Things had definitely changed there.
I smiled to myself, then fired the right ball, guiding it in a steady trajectory, dragging the speed a little to give him a good opening.
Two inches out, he made his move, firing a bolt of his fuchsia magical flame.
It collided perfectly with my sphere, driving through its center.
“Ungh,” I uttered as his power didn’t just touch slightly, but remained there threaded through it.
“Motherfucker,” he gasped, feeling it, too.
I gritted my teeth as I tried to focus through the sensation. “Thought you were going to hit with attacking force… not… this.”
He smirked. “You mean, not my magic teasing yours?” He lifted a shoulder. “Me too. Guess I got a little carried away.”
“Or this is payback for the text convo earlier. Me messing with you about the cock rub thing?”
“That was the least of it.”
A growl left me, but it ended with a chuckle.
He laughed, too. “Hey, we’re still completing the task at hand, and really damn well. Look at our magic balancing so well together and hitting the plate with perfect pressure and intensity.”
I saw his hand shaking.
And it wasn’t him being unable to hold his power steady. He was getting too worked up. Not the best in this sort of situation,let alone for an Ifrit in magical flux—his new instinctive magic he’d been developing.
“All right. Just relax for me,” I told him.
“Win, not exactly helping with that kind of talk.”
I rolled my eyes. “Not what I meant.”
“As if you’re not enjoying this and seeing me overshoot to mess with you—it’s gonna be a whole other kind of shooting in the next few moments if—”
