Shock ripped through my system; I knew little about fae magic, but a healer shouldn’t be capable of hurting people, right?
“I’ll go under one condition,” he said, ignoring my question, which made it obvious what the answer was. The bastard made my brain feel like it had liquified out my nose. Some healer! He’d tried to kill me.
“What?” I growled as he handed back my dagger. I shamefully slipped it back into my boot, aware now that he was more powerful than I was, and it had been useless to even pull it on him in the first place.
“Come back with me tomorrow and see Headmaster Clarke at The Academy.”
My head reeled back in shock. “Why the Nightling would I do that?”
He looked me up and down again, slowly, and my stomach warmed. “Because you have more magic than anyone I’ve ever met. I can smell it on you, like a sharp, aged whiskey. You belonghere.”
His statement knocked the wind right out of my chest and the words from my throat. He’d rendered me speechless.
THREE
Ariyon was apparently from some well-known family, because he’d brought his horse right up to The Gilded City main gate and told the guards he had Academy business to tend to outside. They’d simply nodded and let us pass right through without question.
Who was this guy?
I knew nothing of the magical world. I didn’t know if healers were common, or if he was some kind of rare creature among the fae. For most of the ride to Isa I clung to his abdomen with my gloved hands, balancing my body to keep my face and hair away from his exposed neck and my ankles away from the horse. Thank the Light he didn’t have long hair.
I was holding my body in such a rigid way that everything burned and ached. So as the ride drew on longer, I grew weary and began to lean my chest against his back, hugging him from behind. His muscular back moved with the motion of the horse and flexed against me as I kept my chest pressed to his back, swallowing hard while I processed the fact that I was holding on to a guy, with sustained contact, for the longest time in my life.
It felt so good that by the time I saw my village come into view, I didn’t want to let go of him.
For someone who was never touched, this horseback ride had made me feel something in my chest, like a puzzle piece knocking into place.
I realized in that moment that I was lonely. That holding on to a warm, breathing body like this filled some deep need inside of me that I hadn’t known was there. I was honestly shocked I hadn’t been zapped yet. One of my hairs had slipped free of my tight bun and I swore it grazed his neck before I could pull it back, but I was able to snatch it in time.
The entire ride, I couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d said about me talking to the headmaster and that I belonged at The Academy.
If he thought magic pumped through my veins, he was sorely mistaken. I’d never done magic in my entire life.
“Where are the stables?” he asked as we trotted his mare through my village in the dead of night. I felt sleep pull at my limbs and noticed that no one was out. It was bedtime. I prayed Sorrel was keeping my father alive with her herbs until we got there.
“We don’t have any. You can tie your horse outside my hut, and I’ll give her water and oats.”
If he thought that was scandalous, he didn’t mention it. Just guided the mare as I pointed the way to the back right quadrant where my father and I lived.
When we reached the hut, I was relieved to see the fire still going inside. I had worried that maybe Sorrel had fallen asleep. Ariyon pulled his horse up to the opening of my hut and stopped her there.
“Let me get off first,” I told him and then released my hands from his waist, jumping down onto the hard packed dirt. I hissed at the painful slap the jump caused my feet.
Ariyon dismounted next, with a grace I hadn’t had, and looked at me with curiosity. “I would have helped you down.”
“I’m fine,” I urged him as he tied up his mare to a nearby tree, and then I moved to open the flap of our hut.
Ariyon’s eyes flitted around the village, the muddy stream that ran behind our hut, and the sagging leather roof. He wasn’t being rude, but I could tell he was out of his element.
“Never left The Gilded City?” I asked.
He swallowed hard and shook his head.
“Ever been to the West Side?” I didn’t know what the West Side looked like, but I had a feeling it wasn’t a clean and colorful floral explosion like the East Side.
He shook his head again.
“Well, we can sightsee later. My dad is in rough shape.” I stepped into the hut as he strode behind me.
