Page 22 of Dance of Stars and Ashes

“I need some room,” he said in a tone that implied it should be obvious. The intense look he gave her shot fire straight between her thighs. Her lips pressed together as she tried to ignore it, wishing she could get control of these rebellious urges.

She made an exaggerated show of stepping out of the way, bowing down in a deep, mocking curtsy.

“Oh. By all means. Commander.”

Now, it was her turn to smirk at the flicker of irritation in his gaze.

“Did that bother you, Commander? You aren’t the only one who can make use of empty, meaningless honorifics, are you?”

Rabin ignored her comment, bending down and placing a fist against the earth. She watched him focus his gaze as the chasm walls began to rumble again, vibrating with far more enthusiasm than they’d managed for her.

Clearly, Rabin’s earth magic was much stronger, which made sense, given he was a rakshasa, and this was their purview. She remembered Apsara telling her there was only one rakshasa with the strength to close the rift, and Zarya now knew it was the one currently making every nerve in her body tingle.

Of course, it was.

“Wait,” Zarya said, grabbing his arm as a lightning bolt of electricity speared up through her fingertips. He stopped and looked at her hand around his arm before his gaze met hers. She dropped it and wiped her palm on her kurta, hoping he hadn’t noticed how sweaty she was.

“What?”

“Don’t just do it. Tell me how to do it.”

His eyebrow arched, his gaze sweeping over her from head to toe. It felt like a finger running up the inside of her thigh, swirling the warmth in her belly.

“I can’t. My magic is different from yours.”

“Oh,” she said, stepping back. “Of course. I didn’t think about that.”

He gave her one last lingering, if disdainful, look before he concentrated on the street again.

“Keep everyone away!” he shouted to the guards, who were all watching the pair. A crowd of curious onlookers had gathered a few feet from the edges.

Rabin’s gaze focused on the chasm again, his large fist against the ground. The earth rumbled, the sides of the chasm groaning inwards like a thread pulling a ripped seam into a straight line.

The walls shifted bit by bit until the sides lunged at one another, slamming together and sealing the gap. The spectators gasped as a few of them stumbled from the impact. Zarya spread her feet to prevent herself from toppling over.

Then, Rabin twisted his hand and shifted his focus as a line of magic ran along the crack, dusting away the edges until the street was completely healed, as though nothing had ever happened.

Zarya was beyond impressed, but she’d die before ever admitting that.

“Not bad, Commander,” she said, pretending to scrutinize the chasm. She squinted. “Did you miss a spot there?”

She pointed in the distance.

“I did not miss a spot, Princess,” he said, his jaw hard as he stood.

She folded her arms and shrugged, deciding she couldn’t let him have the last word. She thought about the Ravana estate and the beautiful gardens. The plants and creatures and flowers that had been bursting everywhere.

What if it had been Rabin’s magic, and not Gopal’s, that had been responsible for all of that?

“I guess that was somewhat impressive,” she finally said. “But can you make flowers?”

That devastating eyebrow arched again, and she swore she saw the slightest hint of amusement dance in his gaze. It harkened to their days in the dream forest when Rabin had been someone else. Someone entirely different. Someone she actually liked.

“Flowers?”

“Yes. Flowers. You know, the pretty colorful things that smell nice.”

Again, his gaze swept over as he made a slow circle around her, one confident step at a time. Then, he stopped directly in front of her and held up a fist.