After stopping by the library to find that she had already cleaned up any evidence that they had been there the previous night, Cason found himself alone in the courtyard. No sign of Brela.
Despite the heavy cloud coverage overhead, that dizzying lightness remained over his skin and in his muscles. He should have been sore, for a lot of reasons, but being outside and remembering the sparring he’d done with Brela the other morning only fueled his excitement. He’d never felt so free to use his strength, and though he’d expended most of his sun-blessed perception strength to keep up with her, he’d never lost control over the other magic.
Boelyn was always a decent sparring partner for releasing their lightning magic. Era had once been an average fighter with her fire, but he had never felt comfortable showing her the extent of his power. Maybe one day he’d find someone of comparable fire strength to train with, though that would require him to actually go back to Anfroy and the sun temple.
Not high on his list of places to visit; even more dreaded than traveling to Valisea.
Cason inhaled the salty air blowing in from the inlet, closing his eyes as he focused on his surroundings. In the depths of his perception magic, he could sense everything from the castle behind him to the edges of the perimeter walls. He could stretch further if needed, but this was his normal grounding technique. It wasn’t often he could enter this mind-stilling without the dire need of counting to calm himself. This time, he could appreciate each leaf on the tree to his right. He tasted the air around him and heard the rustle of grass through the courtyard.
Positioned just behind his left shoulder, he knew he’d sense the water feature. It was an elaborate fountain depicting a kygras—the local sea monster—leaping from the center of the water, four fins splayed like wings and scaled tail mounting it to the base of the fountain. One hundred years ago there had been a stone siren clasped in the massive jaws of the creature, but that warrior had been removed after some of the courtiers had complained of the violent depiction.
Those kygras teeth had often been a focal point for Cason, the three rows of ninety-one teeth a perfect counting exercise, but today the image felt off. Perhaps fuzzy was the right word, since every time he attempted to concentrate, he’d feel his mind drifting away from the solidity of the stone. A good drift, in this case, since his thoughts seemed to be filled with all things Brela. Her movements and prowess as they sparred across the lawn, how she had looked in the library before he had thrust her against the bookcase, those eighteen tomes that he’d ignored falling because he was seconds away from tearing her clothes off and taking her against the shelves…
Cason chuckled to himself, and though his eyes remained closed, he called over his shoulder. “Enjoying the view?”
A snort echoed from the fountain. “I’d enjoy it more if you weren’t wearing a shirt.”
That earned a smirk as he darted a glance Brela’s way, not surprised to see her perched on the head of the statue. “I could say the same.”
Not that her outfit left much to the imagination, though he’d memorized every curve of her body last night. She was back in her tight black pants from when she was captured, a loose white tunic with the leather ties unbound at the chest. All cinched with her corset belt that had a terrifying amount of sheaths. Thankfully, all but one were empty. No sign of Night Carver either.
Brela raised her eyebrow, twisting her braid over her shoulder as she leaned forward. “Someone’s in a rare mood this morning. Arms at your sides instead of folded over your chest, flirting, not glaring…” She flashed her teeth. “My, my, Captain, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you had quite the tumble last night. Perhaps evenenjoyedit.”
Cason turned his back to avoid giving her the satisfaction of seeing him blush. Nights like theirs were… rare, and not just because he didn’t make a habit of bedding many women. It was even more rare to be in the woman’s company the next day, let alone be talking about it.
Oh, gods, he should have thought of these consequences. Why did he ever let her keep him from counting? Staying in that library had been such a bad idea, and now he was starting to wish he’d ignored her note for training. Time alone with her was dangerous for his self-control, but now she had power. She had the knife, but she also had the ability to bring his role here into question. He had been lucky in the forest when she threw the knife to save his reputation, but what if she was trying to play some game with him? What if she used this against him?
Except, there was still some part of him that wanted her to use this against him. Wanted her to dangle last night over his head and make him come back for more.
He would. Oh, four hells, he wouldcrawl.
There was a soft thud in the grass as Brela dismounted, but Cason kept his attention forward. Counting once again until she stepped in front of him and crossed her arms.
“Would you please relax?” she grumbled, gesturing toward his hands with a jerk of her chin. He unclenched his fists, unaware he had even done that. Brela let out a sigh. “Just so you know, I have no intention of destroying your reputation by announcing what we did last night.”
He frowned. “How did you—“
Brela cut him off with a pointed look that said she didn’t miss anything. “Did you not think I also slept with my enemy? Farrah and Elias won’t hold me to the same judgement as your people, but I know what it feels like to be looked at in the way they would look at you.”
Cason opened his mouth but whatever he wanted to say fell short. After a moment, he instead mumbled, “I did enjoy it, and maybe that’s what scares me—that Icouldenjoy it because of the way… because of how you looked at me. I have never met anyone who wasn’t afraid of me for that power.”
She sighed. “I’ve spent my entire life surrounded by people who hate me; fighting to survive in a world that despises what I am. Just because we are enemies, just because our power is different, doesn’t mean we aren’t the same, fire wielder.” She let out a soft snort. “It might surprise you that the closest people I can consider trusting, besides Elias and Farrah, are you and Serill. I’d really rather not travel to Valisea with anyone else, nor find myself in the dungeons or dead for exposing where and with whom I slept last night.”
“You trust me?” he asked.
A smirk. “I said I was considering it.” Brela shrugged and lifted the throwing knife, turning her attention to her hands. “I know you’ve been ordered to kill me in Valisea.”
Gods, her brilliance was so attractive. Maybe it should frighten him that he could never hide anything from her. Instead, he only felt… more confident.
“I won’t do it.”
Cason didn’t doubt the words at all, and he realized he’d made that decision long ago, it was just about getting over his own hesitations. After everything Brela had done since he met her—including being a pain in his ass—and everything he’d seen in the last week, he believed those words. He wouldn’t kill her.
Serill had been right. They were two flames of the same fire.
Maybe that’s why it hurt so much when she only pinched her lips and went back to flipping the knife, her expression unreadable. “We’ll see.”
“Brela, I… I know what that money means to you. I’ve seen the bruises. I’ve seen the scars. I’m not going to take away your freedom from Ovir.”
