I frown, peering up, but his eyes are still cast on the text he can apparently decipher. “Like a ... afaith?”
“Yes. Many believe he speaks for the Gods.”
Canting my head to the side, I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. “Gods?”
His eyes narrow, a line forming between the white strokes of his shapely brows. “Yes. Surely your tutor taught you religious studies?”
“Ahh, no. I wasn’t aware that was a thing. I figured Gods only exist in the fantasy worlds I read about ...”
Kai looks toward the castle, expression grim. “You’re far too sheltered up there,” he growls, and there’s an unbridled storm in his frosty words. One I try to temper by placing my hand on his cheek to divert his attention back to me.
He lifts a brow.
“I’m notthatsheltered, Kai.”
A lie. Of course I’m sheltered, but I built the walls of my own prison.
I flip the page, seeking distraction, and my mouth twists in a cloying smile.
“So, wait ...” I tap the illustration of a tall, slender female with hair that sways to her knees. She’s tossing a piece of kelp into the volcano’s basin of water that appears to be spitting out a version of ... well ...Kai. “Does that mean Ocean Drakes were made from—”
“Seaweed,” he interrupts, voice monotone. “Yes.”
I peek at him, catching his lackluster stare, chewing my bottom lip to stop myself from spitting laughter ... though a little manages to bubble out.
“You’re terrible,” he flips to another leaf in the book. “And you were made from stones, so you’re not much better off.”
“I think that’s perfectly appropriate, actually.”
He tips his head and laughs, the sound a splash of joy I wish I could swim in. His beat has calmed to that of a lapping wave by the time his chest stops shaking. “You’re right.”
Smiling shyly, I divert my attention to the book, running my fingers over the drawing of an Ocean Drake rising from the water—the frills that adorn the length of his long, powerful tail slicked flat against his scales. Beside it is another image of the same drake walking on two muscular legs.
The smile slips off my face as I lick my lips and peer up through my lashes. “Is this true? Can your kind walk on land?”
There’s a bubble of hope in my heart that pops the moment Kai shakes his head, eases my hand away, and flicks to a different part of the book. “Not all. The originals could. And some of their direct descendants.”
My shoulders droop. “Oh ...”
“What do you garner from this page?”
I look to the woman plucking a fallen leaf from the ground, her hair seeming to blend with the clouds. In the adjacent picture, she’s blowing it into the volcanic basin. From there, a swarm of sprites are emerging.
“Um, that sprites were made from falling leaves by the Goddess of”—hell, I don’t know—”air?”
“Correct,” he says, leaning closer, his briny scent washing over me. It’s a smell like no other, as though the entire ocean has been boiled down into a thick, perfumed syrup.
He’s the sea incarnate. Rich and wholesome and—
My best friend.
He points to the feathers sewn into the Goddess’ bodice. “Falanthia can take on the form of an eagle.”
I nod, my exo-starved mind clinging to the information as he turns a few pages.
The corner of his mouth kicks up. “And this?” he asks with a wicked lilt to his tone. “Forest nymphs from ripe plums by the God of ...”
My blood turns molten, and I cast my gaze on the sprinkle of whitecaps crumbling the ocean in the distance.
