“Yes, much like the wild rose.” He’s unapologetic about the way his silver gaze trails over the exposed, thorny vines tattooed on my hand and up my covered arm, as if he knows what’s hidden under my shirt. I shrug my shoulders to dissuade him from his perusal, but it doesn’t. My skin crawls, sending shivers of gooseflesh down my back. Philip once told me that feeling comes from someone walking over your grave, but I never believed him…until now.
“Are you well enough to walk?” he asks, and his lingering attention takes on a new meaning. He’s assessing to see if I’m feeble. Instead of feeling relief, the bitter tang of embarrassmenthas me questioning why I would assume it was for any other reason.
“Yes,” I agree eagerly, already swinging my legs off the side of the bed.
“As I’m sure you’re aware, the healer was unable to aid in your recovery. Her skills were useless.” He remains seated, even as I stand, but his head tilts to watch me rise. A blush heats my cheeks. This is not a position I’ve ever been in. The males in my life would never permit me to speak down to them. I bend my knees to lower myself out of instinct, and the man across from me moves so quickly, I can scarcely track him as he rises. He reaches out, brushing his fingers along my hand before he grasps my arms to hold me up as if he thought I was going to collapse.
A strange feeling erupts in my belly, like it’s been upended, and my breath catches at the very same moment. Our eyes lock, and recognition flares. He must be so powerful that I’m not immune to his ability. He jerks his hands from my arms, but the strange feeling doesn’t abate with his touch.
Jitters rack my body, prompting me to shake out my hands in an effort to dispel the oddity coursing through me. “Sorry, I’ve been sitting still for too long.” I try to cover my reactions, because I’m afraid to acknowledge what just happened. If he knows I’m not resistant to him, does that mean he will experiment on me to see how far that goes? Have I somehow lost my protection completely? Will I be permitted to leave this place? Where would I go? Certainly not back to my father. I shake my head to shove the useless hope from my mind. I’m getting way ahead of myself. I’m not even sure what just happened, but I sincerely doubt it would translate into me getting away from the institute.
“I will show you to your room,” he says somberly, and I swear there’s a hint of displeasure in his tone. The instinct to lie lowand avoid his ire is strong, so I lower my gaze to the floor and wait for his instruction.
Seconds pass with only the sound of my beating heart echoing in my ears before he expels a heavy breath, then takes a step. Even with my head down, it takes no effort to trail him. He’s easily one of the largest males I’ve ever seen in both presence and stature. I’m still unsure if my assessment of him being at least half beast is true, but the thought of him being a fallen offers a better explanation as to why he was able to affect me. I could at least find some comfort in that. There couldn’t be that many gods here, could there? It seems I have far larger things to worry about than simply becoming an eternal ghost.
KAGE
The halls of the third floor are quiet and empty as I sneak through the corridors. I assume most of the healers are tucked away for the night, much like the rest of the school, but I’m not familiar with their schedules and practices. Training ended hours ago, as did dinner, but I remain cautious as I traverse the building. I’d rather no one knows I’m checking up on the mysterious newcomer.
When the strong odor of herbs makes my nose twitch, I slow even more. I don’t know if there will be someone watching over her or if she’s even still here. I wanted to return earlier, but Headmistress Syrinx sent for me, and that was a request I couldn’t ignore. Her questions were mostly focused on the girl,and not on the fact thatItook her to the healers. I was prepared to explain how I found her on the trail again, but Syrinx already seemed to know how I located her, and surprisingly, she didn’t doubt the story. She did ask if I had any further details, and I informed her I didn’t, which she seemed more hesitant to believe. However, there was no way I was going to admit I feel a strange pull to the creature, especially when I don’t understand it myself.
When the door to the infirmary comes into view, my heart rate spikes with anticipation. The urgency to see my creature again drives me to cast shadows and shift into the room without taking precautions to make sure she is alone, but I have faith in my ability to keep me obscured. I remember the layout easily and coalesce in the corner farthest from the windows and any light they may produce.
Her scent fills the area, covering the medicinal odor of herbs and salves that permeated the halls. My heart slows, yet the desire to be closer to her doesn’t lessen with her nearness. If anything, it intensifies. I know we’re alone before I can assess the room. Either that or my senses are only attuned to her, which is almost enough to frighten me. I drag my eyes from the bed where she lies and force myself to evaluate the space to be sure no one else is here.
I like knowing I have her to myself. Before I realize what I’m doing, I’m halfway across the room and heading straight for her. The urge to be close enough to touch her startles me. It’s not an impulse I’m used to battling. My shoes are soundless as I stop two cots away, but she still shifts as if she can sense my nearness. Her head turns in my direction, allowing me to see the tattooed vines on the side of her neck that disappear under her shirt.
I wait to see if self-preservation will warn her of my approach and fully wake her, but several heartbeats pass without her stirring further. Still, I keep my distance. I don’t feel entirely incontrol of my own actions at the moment. My gaze traces her delicate features, wondering how this creature could possibly survive in a place like this. I wanted to prod Syrinx about her, to find out what ability she possesses that set the institute’s attention on her, but I didn’t want to give away my interest in her more than I probably already had.
As the minutes tick by with only the steady sound of her breathing, I finally start to calm, and I find myself mimicking her inhales. It makes me question if even our hearts are synced. I take a step forward with the intent to find out, but thankfully, I remember I can’t touch her before it’s too late. For that reason alone, I back up to the farthest corner of the room. I’ve never experienced the impulse to touch someone the way I do her. It’s a cruel, new torture I wasn’t prepared for, yet I know I will learn to deal with it.
As my thoughts twist, there’s one I’ve been ignoring for a while, but I’m finding it harder and harder to disregard. It seems more than brutal to think it’s possible, but without any other explanation for my fixation with the creature available, it seems almost likely that the gods have decided to punish me further by giving me a mate I will never be permitted to touch. A hot spike of indignant rage has me curling my hands into useless fists. There’s no one to fight with, to appeal to. I’m helpless, which isn’t something I’m familiar with at all.
My mind tries to come to terms with the possibility of what this could mean. Without the capacity to touch her, the bond between us could never be completed, but I very much doubt the pull I feel toward her will lessen. Will she know the same torment? Will I be able to resist? Am I strong enough to leave her if I must, to maintain both our sanities?
Hours pass, and when she finally starts to wake, I’m conflicted on whether or not I should stay. I want to, there’s no doubt about that, but is it worse being here to see and smell herwithout the ability to be near her, or leaving her alone and trying to pretend she doesn’t exist?
My creature lifts her head off the pillow and glances around with squinted eyes after pretending to be asleep for a few more moments. The chance I had to leave is gone, but I knew I wouldn’t be going anywhere. There’s no way I could leave her unprotected here or anywhere else.
From clear across the room, I hear her stomach growl, and it pains me to know she’s hungry while knowing I can’t provide for her. Her scent, musky and sweet, sours before she curls on her side with her hand over her stomach. It’s a practiced move, something that tells me this isn’t the first time she’s gone without. Just as I’m about to show myself, to go find her something to eat, the door to the room opens and in walks Ziv.
As he saunters across the floor, seemingly eager to reach my creature, I think about killing him, if only for the simple fact that I could. I doubt it would ease the frustration and resentment I feel, but it wouldn’t make it worse either.
When he reaches for her so easily, placing her against the headboard of the cot as if she’s too weak to do it herself, I revisit the idea of ending him. It’s only her soft words, spoken like a caress, that keep me enthralled enough to ignore him. I hang on her every word, longing to be closer to her, but I settle for eavesdropping to glean any information I can. I take solace in knowing that I will someday kill her father after learning he’s the reason she was left to walk up the mountain.
Her bright eyes are sharp, but she keeps them averted from Ziv in a way that makes me question why she seems timid, and it reaffirms my worries about her being at the institute. The others here will see her softness and try to exploit it or crush her. I’m not going to be able to let her out of my sight…not that I planned on it anyway.
When Ziv tells her she’s lucky I found her, a shot of pride strengthens my core. The fact that she agrees so easily is even more profound.
I listen closely when she asks why she’s here, hoping I will learn of her gift, but neither of them gives anything away about her ability, other than she tried to conceal herself in some way in an effort to avoid coming here. Most think it’s a great accomplishment to be selected to attend, and that it means you’re the best, but the reality is none of us can take credit for what we can do. We can develop the skills we’re born with, but we don’t manifest them. The gods are the only ones with that control.
“Briar,” she states firmly, as if Ziv calling her by her surname was wrong in some way. It’s the first time she meets the other male’s eyes, and I find myself wondering why it’s so important to her.
Ziv mutters something, but I’m not paying enough attention to him to make out what he said. I do notice when Briar throws her legs off the bed, preparing to rise. Even more noticeable is the way her cheeks flame as she drops her gaze to the ground. Now I really regret not paying attention, because I want to know what he said to cause such a reaction.
She stands for just a moment, then her knees buckle as if she’s going to drop right back to the bed. Ziv is quick to catch her, keeping her on her feet. On instinct, I take a step forward, but when Ziv rips his touch from Briar, I settle back into the shadows. The next few moments between them are filled with an awkward tension.
When Ziv speaks again, his tone is purposely flat. “I will show you to your room.”
