As I drop under the surface, the world around me slips further away, and I’m back on the edge of the forest, looking at my brother, the energy from him and the Usher and everyone else in my path gathering inside of me. Just a beat of that power re-charges me, has me desperate to feel it again.
But this is a memory—a memory of the missing pieces of that night.
And as I stay under the water, the heat from that memory, and the power I amassed warms my skin, and heats me from within.
There was so much power. So much light.
I was everything.
The hottest flame, the brightest star—until I wasn’t. I breached my own self, and it consumed not only everything in its path, but me as well. That was the level of destruction that tore out of me.
And as my body rights itself and my head breaks the surface of the water, I gasp for air and realise why my mind shut off the memory.
Because that amount of power is terrifying.
twenty-nine
. . .
Aten
“Ever!” No, no, no.
Under the cover of night, wading the horses through the river was a risk Kalan deems necessary, but the splash startles us both. The water only comes up as high as the horse’s forearm, and with a gentle tug of a current, it isn’t dangerous.
Until Ever goes crashing into it.
I drag my legs through the waist-deep water and grab for her as she re-emerges.
She coughs and chokes as she grips onto my arms, feeling her way.
“I’ve got you. Easy. Easy.” My heart begins to beat again as she splutters for air.
“I… remember,” she splutters between breaths. “I remember.”
I help her to stand, brush her hair from her face, and wipe the water still clinging to her cheeks away. Her hands fist into a ball at my chest, scrunching my shirt in her grip. She’s all shadowsand outlines in this light, but she’s as beautiful as she’s always been, even half drowned. And with the knowledge that my touch won’t hurt either of us, my fingers linger longer against her cool skin, tucking her stubborn hair behind her ear.
Such a simple gesture. And one that I long to do, time and time again, to help erase all the hurt we’ve inflicted on one another.
My hands move to cup her shaking face, and I tilt her to look at me. Even in the dark, her eyes still shine. My fingers trail over her head and down to her shoulders, as I steer her from the water, never letting her out of my grasp, following over to the bank where both of our steeds have gathered, with Kalan waiting.
She’s dripping wet, and as we clear the bank and make our way deeper under the cover of woodland, I tell Kalan to stop, and he secures the horses to a tree to our right.
“Fetch some firewood. We need to get warm and dry.” It’s my turn to give direction to Kalan, who doesn’t argue.
We weren’t cold before we hit the water, but now, Ever is shivering all over.
“You’ve got to get warm. Come on.” I untie the blanket secured to our saddle bag and set about stripping out of my shirt. She moves with stuttered gestures to the ties on her top.
The fear she’s going into shock, or something else has happened to her, plays on my mind, so I replace her fingers with mine, strip her shirt off, and, in an act that pains me, tear the thin camisole top over her head, exposing her skin.
I smother her to my chest, and she catches on, wrapping her arms around my torso to try and still the shake of her body. With her welded to me, I wrap us both in the blanket, sink against the tree trunk, and keep her as close as possible to me.
“Thank you,” she hums against my chest. Her breathing evens out quickly, and I plant small kisses on her head as we relax into one another.
This feeling, the sensation of touch, so inhibited by our magic before, is something I want to cherish. Ever was so free to give her touches away, and I hated that she would. And now I’m here, never wanting to let her out of my touch again.
A rustle in the trees has the horses snorting and shifting their hooves.
