Eyes still closed, a grin slowly builds. “Yes.” He peeks an eye open and peers down at me. “Am I in trouble?”
“No, it’s just… well, the rope… It’s supposed to bind your powers.”
“They do. My divine powers.” His eyes close again, and he rolls his shoulders back. “But not the powers I had before I became what you see now.”
“These are your Druid powers?”
He nods. “Yes. Likely enhanced by my change, but they’re still mine. And not bound by these.” He lifts his wrists.
Then he falls quiet again, head tipping back, face turned fully into the sun.
He may be dirty—long overdue for a bath—but I can’t deny the stir in my chest as I watch him. He’s finely made. All of God’s creatures are, but Orán is something else. Handsome and masculine in a way that written words don’t necessarily define, like Pollock… but different.
He’s also softer. Quieter. A man who chooses his words instead of letting them choose him.
There’s a steadiness to him. A weight that isn’t heavy, but grounding—like standing too close to something that wields gravity and lures you into its hold, keeps you rooted whether you mean to be or not.
“So Pollock, the White Horseman, is your twin?”
He chuckles, a grin tugging at his mouth. “Lila told you everything, I assume.”
I shrug. “Enough.”
He scoffs lightly. “I figured she would.”
“Your brother… he…” My fingers toy with the edge of my sleeve, gaze drifting for a beat before I catch myself. I don’t know why I say it—why the thought slips free before I can stop it. “He kissed me.”
Orán jerks, turning sharply toward me. “Kissed you? Wait. You’ve met him? When?”
“When I stole his horse.”
He stares down at me, blinking once. Then again, slower this time, as if trying to make sense of it. “You stole Cali?”
“Is that her name?”
“Yes.” His mouth opens, then closes again, a breath pushing out through his nose. “And I’m surprised she let you get anywhere near her. Her temperament is…not the best.”
“She wasn’t happy, but I did ply her with treats.”
“Still.” He shakes his head, a short, disbelieving motion, one hand lifting slightly before dropping again.
His gaze sharpens and levels me where I stand. “He kissed you?”
“Yes,” I fight the smile. I really do. Not because of the kiss, but because of what immediately followed it. Remembering the look on his face when I dropped down from the recess on the balcony and sent him over the edge still brings me great joy.
“Right before I stole his sword and kicked him off his balcony.”
Orán jerks in place. His face flicks to the side, and then he steps closer. He lays his hand gently on my elbow. “Please repeat that. I seemed to have lost my hearing while locked in a cell for days on end.”
“You heard me correctly.”
He’s not upset. Instead, he’s giving me a bewildered expression as if he wants to know every detail.
“You, dear Eridessa, are a mystery I could spend eternity trying to unravel.” He pauses, his thumb brushing absently along the rope at his wrist as his eyes stay fixed on mine. “And still, I don’t think that would be enough time to discover all of the fascinating things about you.”
I pat his chest lightly and spin to walk into the house, calling out behind me, “Flattery will get you nowhere.”
“No, probably not, since that only got me locked up to begin with. But nevertheless, I won’t give up hope that it will one day win you over.”
