It’s about alternative uses of magic. I skim through it but nothing catches my eye, except one small passage about eyes. Apparently, there’s an ancient spell that can be used to takeaway someone’s soul so that they can be used as a vessel. A visible sign is the blackness of their eyes.
I cringe, sliding the book away before grabbing a colorful tome. This one is a little easier to consume and the fantastical drawings of dragons fascinate me. They’re similar to the sea dragons of this realm, but their wings are much steadier than the gauzy water-peddling wings that ours have. Their scales are different too. Dark black and charcoal, even a deep red, not the vibrant iridescent scales I’ve seen here.
But as my fascination dims, apprehension replaces it. How are we meant to defeat creatures such as those? Their razor-sharp teeth can be the size of my body, and they actually do breathe fire.
My heart begins to pound and I slam that book shut too before roughly tossing it to the side of my desk.
Great.Reading usually relaxes me, but this is doing the opposite.
I tug at my hair as I lean back in my chair.
Gran’s last words ring through me.
“You were meant for this world.”
My heart aches with the despair I feel when I think about her. I miss her. But she wouldn’t want to me drown in this, she would want me to press on.
To work harder.
I shift forward in my chair, heaving a deep breath, and squaring my shoulders. I dive back into the books, grabbing the next one titled Fae Magic.
Their magic is different from ours, for it comes from the very land itself and is not a blessing from the gods. It’s elemental magic, usually consisting of the ability to manipulate water, earth, air, and fire. Rarely is it more than one and never has it been all four.Interesting.I flip quickly through the pages, intently reading as fast as my eyes can travel across the page.
The creaking open of the door, coupled with blinding light, has me peeling open my eyes. My face is stuck between the pages of a book and I squint against the flood of light through the windows.
Lachlan stumbles into our room, yawning loudly. Bluish shadows are smudged under his eyes and his long locks are haphazardly tied up with a leather strap. But there’s a lightness to his shoulders, the tension not quite what it has been.
“Did ye read all night?” He eyes the book I pull my head out of.
I wipe the sleep from my eyes and grimace. “I guess so. Were you on duty?”
He stifles another yawn behind his hand and vanishes his wings away. The tattoos of their outline appear on his tanned skin. “Aye. Ramses deserved a break.”
“Ah, I see.” I rise from the chair and tiptoe over to thearmoire. The marble is frigid against my bare feet. Stripping out of my nightclothes, I pull my leathers out.
Strong, warm arms wrap around my middle and pull me against his firm chest.
“I missed ye.” His words tickle my neck just below my ear.
I breathe in his cedar and rain scent, closing my eyes. “I missed you too.”
He places light kisses from my temple down to my neck and I lean back, savoring the bliss that quickens my breathing.
“Ye going to get breakfast?” He squeezes me tight.
“Mhm. Do I need to bring you anything?”
His arms slip from around my middle to pull off his boots.
“Nae. I’m going to grab a couple of hours of sleep before our training this afternoon.” Lachlan sinks onto the end of our bed and struggles to pull off his other boot.
I kneel in front of him and move his hands out of the way so I can tug loose the laces. He flops back on the bed.
“Do I need to arrange for someone to come wake you?”
“Nae…”
I remove both boots and stand. To find him already asleep. His chest rises and falls in deep, rhythmic breaths.
