We climbed the stairs, his tall, dark presence looming behind me, the constant awareness of his nearness brushing against my senses. The mix of excitement and unease it prompted gave way to curiosity as we stepped onto the upper floor.
The interior of Belekoroz’s tower was nothing like I had imagined. Wooden shelves lined every wall, brimming with countless scrolls and objects. Glittering stones and vibrant dried flowers caught my eye, drawing me closer. I couldn’t resist; a soft sound of awe escaped me as my hand trailed along the shelves. This was fascinating.
“What are these?” I asked, my fingers brushing against a particularly vibrant gemstone.
“Things that piqued my curiosity,” Belekoroz replied, amusement playing on his lips as he watched me wander through the room. I ignored his inviting gesture toward two comfortable armchairs by the fireplace, next to the tower’s sole window.
“Where do you sleep?” I asked, turning to face him. Though our kind did not need sleep like mortals did, our minds occasionally craved rest. My question was meant to unsettle him; the temptationto get the upper hand in our little battle of wills was too great to resist. His face showed no unease, though, that vexing amusement only deepening. A tendril of dark magic playfully tugged at my braid.
“Trying to trick me into letting you into my bedchamber?” he asked, eyes sparkling with mischief.
This time, it was me closing the distance between us, pushing, pushing so much further than I should to get a reaction. “I doubt I need to resort to tricks to get in there.”
The power to render him speechless, his long lashes fluttering as he blinked, could easily become an unwise addiction. The brief moment of surprise on his face was a victory in itself.
“Through there.” He motioned to an unobtrusive door hidden among the shelves, his voice suddenly hoarse. I walked over, my body brushing against his as I passed, the contact sending a shiver down my spine.
The iron staircase to the tower’s roof was even steeper than the one below. The metal was cold underneath my hands as I climbed up. At the top, only darkness awaited me. A vast expanse of deepest black stretched out over us, with no barriers to impede our vision, and only the faint glow of the crescent moon to provide any light. The wind teased my skin, causing a few stray locks of hair to dance around my face. Alone up here, it felt as if we were the only beings in all of Aron-Lyr, the shadows hiding countless secrets.
Was it foolish that I desired to unveil all of his?
“Is this where you sleep?” I asked, noticing a cozy nest of cushions and blankets in the center of the open space.
“I love feeling the night breeze on my skin.”
I fought the all-too-enticing image conjured by Belekoroz’s words and the lilting tone of his voice, drawing closer to the bed. With a sigh, I sank into the luxurious cushions, rolling onto my back to fullyappreciate the vastness stretching out above me. “That sounds nice. Perhaps I should join you one night?”
His deep intake of breath made me look over at him, and I felt a thrill of satisfaction at his cautious look. I remained an enigma to him, my reactions too unpredictable for his usual games. Good. I enjoyed keeping him on edge.
“Which nights do you prefer?” I asked, my eyes closing. “The ones when the moon shines bright or the dark ones with barely any light?”
As the cushions next to me dipped, the fluttering feeling in my stomach returned. I couldn’t ignore his presence pressing against my senses, my powers stirring just below the surface.
“Take a wild guess, little queen.”
I laughed. “How predictable.”
“And you are not?” he scoffed, shifting on the cushions. “You likely prefer the brightness of the day, wandering under Aramaz’s sun.”
My betrothed was not something I wanted to think about at that moment. “He did not make the sun,” I corrected Belekoroz, my tone sharper than intended. “The Allfather did.”
Belekoroz’s voice turned into a bored singsong. “And the Allfather brought forth the sun and the moon, illuminating the existence of all beings and leading them out of the darkness.” A disparaging sound escaped him. Something tugged on my hair again. “If I wanted to listen to the myths of creation, I would visit that little temple your worshippers built and let them preach to me.”
“I expected you to love being worshipped.”
“There’s a difference between being worshipped as nothing more than an image others created of you, and being respected for your true nature.”
His words breathed life into doubts I’d believed only I had, creating an unfamiliar tension in my body. The vulnerability in hisstatement caught me off guard, a rare glimpse into his true feelings.
“What do you want, then, if not to be worshipped?” I asked, genuinely curious.
The answer was immediate. “Absolute freedom. The freedom to do what I want, in the manner I decide.” Faint amusement had crept into his voice. “And the power to achieve it.”
“Is that why you live here alone? Where are all your Anima?”
I sat up abruptly, unable to endure the way he played with the tip of my braid any longer—only to find Belekoroz sitting a proper distance away, his expression the very picture of innocence.
“I don’t mind living alone.”
