I nod. “That sounds depressing,” I admit with a half smile, and he hums in agreement. “Tell me something fun. Remind me how we met,” I insist, now the one desperate for the distraction.
“You don’t want to know that,” he retorts, and I shake my head.
“Please, amuse me. It’s important.”
He drags his free hand down his face, an air of reluctance dancing between us as he clears his throat. “You were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and that was before you were even declared as mine,” he admits, making my heart lurch as a smile spreads across my lips.
“I was not,” I say, failing to wave him off as he captures my hand, bringing it to his lap.
“The Angel of Heaven’s Ridge is known, in some capacity, to most in the Fifth Kingdom, but seeing you in real life is impossible to describe.” My cheeks heat, but he carries on. “Everything about you was a beacon, drawing me in, threatening to take my soul there and then. So when my name was called for you, I knew my life was never going to be the same.”
Emotion clogs my throat as I move on instinct once again, crushing my lips to his. He cups my cheek, guiding me as we fusetogether, softer this time, gentler, and less urgent, but it only makes me want more of him.
Lost in him, I don’t hear the door creak open until the sound of a chair scrapes across the floor. Darting apart, my gaze snaps toward the entrance, where Dr. Holland stands with his tablet in hand, and Mr. Man Bun hovers above him, vibrating with tension as he glowers at the man in question.
Thankfully, Archer clears his throat, attempting to take control of the situation. “Is everything okay, Doctor?” he asks, and the man straightens his jacket as he side steps the beast by the door.
“I’m here to monitor Miss Hayworth, but since she’s awake, a general check will work just as well,” he says with a smile. “Would you like to lie back down?” he offers, and I shake my head.
“I’m good right here, thank you,” I breathe as Archer stands, giving the doctor enough space to take a look at me.
He checks my vitals, just as he did last time, jotting notes down on his clipboard before he settles his attention on me. “How is your memory, Miss Hayworth. Any new recollections?” he asks, and I shake my head. “No sense of familiarity with anything or?—”
“Scent,” I blurt, my cheeks heating immediately as he cocks a brow at me.
“What scent?” Mr. Man Bun blurts near the door, hands planted on his hips as he glowers in my direction.
I run my hand over my throat as I try to swallow past the embarrassment. “Archer.”
“You recognize Archer’s scent?” asks the guy beside Mr. Man Bun, who was sleeping moments ago, but has since perked up, leaning forward in his seat, and I nod.
“What do I smell like?” Archer asks, tilting his head. I wave him off with a shrug, but he takes a step toward me, silently insisting, and I cave.
“Like leather and vanilla.”
He nods slowly, like he’s digesting the information, and the air seems to shift slightly.
“That’s great progress, Miss Hayworth. If you’re feeling okay, I would like to discuss your abilities as a phoenix a little more. But only if you are ready,” the doctor adds, and I lace my hands together in my lap as I nod again.
“I’m ready.”
He smiles, glancing down at his clipboard for a second before returning his stare to mine. “I’ve been researching, and from what I can compile, a phoenix can do two things. There are murmurs and whispers of others, but the main two appear in all phoenixes that have been documented.”
“Is everyone documented, or just phoenixes?” I ask, my chest clenching with a hint of panic as he offers me a tight smile.
“All abilities are documented, but when something as rare as this appears, you do tend to find more notes are made.”
I press my lips together in a thin line as I suck in a breath before finding my tongue again. “And what are those two main abilities, Doctor?”
It feels like everyone draws a step closer to me, be it out of curiosity or protectiveness. Either way, it makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as the doctor taps his board. “Well, you’ve experienced the first: resurrecting yourself from the dead.” I gulp, hating how that sounds. “And the second is healing others.”
“How?” I blurt, and he almost grimaces.
“It’s believed the tears of a phoenix have healing qualities.” I balk, but he quickly lifts a hand. “There are no plans to make you cry to see if that works today, Miss Hayworth,” he clarifies, andI exhale as the blond guy, who has been quiet this entire time, steps forward.
“What are the murmurs of her other possible abilities?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed, and I instinctively fold my arms over my chest, bracing for impact from the doctor’s impending response.
“It’s more energy and environment-based. Like naturally controlling the atmosphere around her, keeping negativity at bay, and stopping conflict and corruption. But as I said, those are more whispers; nothing has ever been proven on those accounts.”
