Zevrial cursed, panting as he turned his head sideways, trying to regain his equanimity. His body was so broad it blocked most of Sarina’s view of me. He tugged my nightgown back down to conceal the Skinscript on my inner thighs as he tucked the inkwell back into his pocket. He pushed up off the bed and cleared his throat. All in the span of just a few seconds.
I was in a much more disheveled state, emotions running havoc. I lay there, dazed and disoriented for several seconds, my body missing the pressure of his above it, my lips aching for the feel of his again. It took me far too long to register that Sarina had walked in. Blood rushed to my entire face as I rolled onto my side, sitting up as my hand pressed to my swollen lips.
“We weren’t–” I started.
Sarina looked flabbergasted. Her expression shifted to impish as she turned, about to walk back through the door.
“Where are you going?” Zevrial asked, his voice still roughened and deep. He took a step toward her as if to stop her.
“Anywhere but here,” she answered. “Hell, I’ll sleep on a bench if it means you finally get some. Just don’t break any of my furniture.” She let the door thud shut behind her.
I stared at the closed door, mouth agape.
Zevrial turned back toward me, his lips almost bruised.
Awkwardness and sexual tension clouded the air like a perfume.
I cleared my throat. “She won’t say anything about us,” I rushed.
“Oh, I know she won’t,” Zevrial crossed the room in two steps, letting the door slam shut behind him. I sat staring at the door for several minutes, trying to even my breathing and process everything that had just happened.
Distantly, I registered Sarina returning and getting ready for bed. She said something, but I just nodded along as if I was listening.
This was Corra, not Sarina. She wasn’t wearing the bracelet. I didn’t know which one had walked in on us.
In the stillness of night, two fundamental truths sank into me.
I couldn’t give up on becoming a Voyager. The Skinscript on my inner thighs was proof I had no intention of backing away from whatever the final exam threw at me. I couldn’t un-know what I did now about the miasma rising and the potential collapse of the barriers. Becoming a Voyager meant more than escaping Nikolach, it was a way to protect my family. To defend my island from the monsters that would overrun it otherwise. Cowering in feigned ignorance in another service wasn’t an option.
The second truth was scarier than any creatures the miasma could unleash. Discomfort and cognitive dissonancecottoned the inside of my mouth until it felt drier than Jakavra’s sand.
I wanted Zevrial.
Chapter 27
Riptide
It was early morning when it occurred to me to check the new Skinscript I had received. I didn’t know what glyphs Zevrial had chosen for me, or if he’d still give me the one he’d promised I could choose for myself.
I waited until Corra had left to bathe. Holding out my mirror, I angled it so that I could see the glyphs he’d painted yesterday. I almost dropped the mirror.
Two distinct Skinscript glyphs, neatly painted onto either side of my inner thighs. I recognized them both.
Perception and Sun.
He’d given me one of the rarest elemental glyphs.
Thinking back to the night before, Zevrial’s finger had moved back and forth on my thigh as he dipped it into the ink over and over again. Each glyph flared with heat when he’d finished drawing them. Their magical activation against my skin had been overshadowed by my lust at the time, but they’d both felt comparably powerful.
Skimming a finger over each symbol, I wondered what using the Perception magic might feel like.
I set the mirror back down, holding my head in my hands while I tried to calm down. The Sun Skinscript was on me, a death sentence if I ever used it. And I didn’t know how to use it. Or avoid using it.
There was only one logical next step.
I had to kill Zevrial, consequences be damned.
Or kiss him senseless again until he explained why he’d given me the Sun glyph.
