The silence that followed was unbearable as unspoken words hung in the space between us. An eternity passed as he trailed indecipherable patterns down my back, until finally he deemed me relaxed enough to work. I expected him to pull away, but instead he leaned forward and spoke softly against my neck. “Let’s just work on breathing today.”
“Why?” I wanted to crane my head over my shoulder, but that would undo the glorious work he’d just performed on my muscles. It was amazing I was still sitting upright when the tendons holding me together had transformed into butter. I’d molded to his touch so much that I hadn’t realized how close we’d gotten, not until he kicked out his legs, cradling me on either side. My pulse spiked as he guided my back against his chest with two firm fingers against my shoulder.
He hesitated for a breath before his soft words floated through the air. “Because your body has been through enough.”
Awareness prickled at my senses, and the hesitation, theguilt, was suddenly so apparent in Rorik’s words that I failed to find my own. I hadn’t thought about his place in all this. But I did remember the way he looked at me strung up on that tree. The fury and ire in his pupil-less gaze. The tension in his fists.
Rorik cleared his throat when I didn’t respond. “And it’s important to learn how to preserve your breath specifically while using your magic.” The thrum of his words reverberated down the column of my spine. “Once you’ve gained that kind of control over your body, perhaps you’ll be able to better choose how much power to use when working with blight. The only reason you managed to do so with your brothers was because Orin got to you in time.”
“And you know that because?”
He stiffened for a moment, then let out a curt laugh. “Orin told me. How else would I know?”
“I still don’t understand how you expect me to do anythingwith you right up against me.” I forced a hard swallow as I stared at the ancestor tree and the sun creeping toward the horizon.
“Well, first, Iexpectyou to kick on your magic. Unless you struggle to do that as well.”
My body was glowing with moonlit power before the terse words could fly out of my mouth. “Of course I can do that.”
“Good. Now, feel the rise and fall of my chest. The beat of my heart.” His breath was warm against my skin as he lowered his head to my shoulder. “Will your body to match it. I’ll slow my breathing and my heartbeat every few minutes or so. Let’s see how long you can keep up—and don’t let your power slip. Focus on maintaining both at the same time.”
My glow sharpened and receded with my emotions. My heart was cantering like a wild horse, and Rorik’s quiet chuckle told me that he knew. Because of course he could hear it. Of course this exercise would be beyond easy for him. My magic paled in comparison to Evers’. I couldn’t see in the dark or hear a pin drop a room away. If I tried to hold my own against one of them, I’d lose—as evidenced by my recent bout with the Starglens. Breathwork wouldn’t save me if something like that happened again.
“You know,” Rorik said, his words barely more than a whisper, “it’s easier to match my pace if you can keep your mind from racing.”
“That’s an impossible feat,” I muttered, pitching my voice in the same tone as his.
I could practically hear his smile. “Busy thinking about my body against yours?” He shifted a fraction, somehow bringing himself closer. “I am quite distracting. All the more reason to keep at this. If you can ignore me, then you’ve mastered something no one else has been able to do.”
“Your arrogance knows no bounds.” My heart hammered against my throat, but my glow remained steady. “I thought we were training so I’d be better at threadmending.”
“I’m training you to survive.”
“Why?”
The rise and fall of his rib cage slowed, and I forced myself to match his breathing pattern. He waited until I’d settled into the new pace before finally answering.
“Because you deserve to live.”
So damn soft. His words were barely a whisper on the evening breeze, and yet they settled against me like weights.
“The issue isn’t whether or not I deserve it. I’m bound to die in a matter of years if I mend. Hopefully, I’ll cure a few people before I go.”
He scoffed. “The only people you should cure are your brothers, and that’s only if it doesn’t affect your lifespan.”
My breath caught in my lungs. Ywena responded with a jolt of electricity that felt far gentler than normal. Or perhaps my shock dulled the sensation of her power. Either way, a ripple, like the aftereffects of a stone skipping over water, fluttered through my light until once again everything smoothed.
It took me several moments to find my voice. “That is the exact opposite of why I am here. Your family—”
Rorik cut me off before I could finish. “If we’re supposed to die, then we die. I’ve lived enough. Seen enough. This obsession with immortality, that’s the real sickness.” He swallowed thickly, and the action caused a more defined rise and fall to his breath. One that my body instinctively matched. “None of us are reallyliving.”
For a long while, we said nothing. Instead, we listened to the lilting chirps of insects and watched the sun dip beneath the horizon, leaving behind an indigo sky awash with twinkling stars. I sat with his words, with the decreasing frequency of his inhales and exhales, with the steady beat of his heart knocking against my back. I didn’t know what to say to him, largely in part because I’d thought there was a sickness in their home that went beyondblight—and his words confirmed it. A deep pang settled into my heart as I watched the night sky grow darker.
Gods, I missed my brothers. I missed the family I had. The one where my mother and father were still alive and our days were filled with laughter. There wasn’t much of that now. There wasn’t any of that within the walls of Fernglove Manor.
“You’re brighter than the moon and just as steady.” Rorik rested his chin on my shoulder as he spoke into the crook of my neck. “Even with me touching you, you’ve managed to maintain your breath. Nice work.”
I laughed quietly, unwilling to let go of this strange sliver of peace we’d unearthed. Buttery-yellow lights were bleeding to life one by one through the manor’s windows. Any minute now, and we’d be expected for dinner. “Glad I passed your assessment.”
