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5
Astorm had rolled across the sky, blotting out any light with dark clouds. Maia sat on the bed in her room and watched them chase across the City of Skies, deeming the weather appropriate for her piss poor mood.
What the hell had she done to Zamanya? She'd snared the minds of hundreds, but never like that, without her command—or her permission. Like her magic had a mind of its own.
It couldneverhappen again. The amount of power she had, all the awful things it could do—all the awful things she had alreadydonewith it ... she couldn't let it be a knife used to cut her friends.
"I'm no better than Ismene," she whispered into the silence, dragging her hands through her hair and wincing when she tore a few strands out.
The look on Zamanya's face, that fear and disgust—it was the same look she'd seen on countless faces. All the palace staff had watched her like a bomb about to explode, or seen her as a freak. She'd seen those exact looks on Azrail's rebels when she shoved past them. She’d seen it on the Sapphire Knight's face the night she was captured.
It would never stop hurting.Monster, he'd called her, and she was starting to wonder if he was right.
The door creaked open, and Maia twisted on the bed with a glare, exhaling a hard sigh when Ark let himself in and shut the door behind himself. The expression on his rugged face was carefully neutral, like he was braced for her to snap at him. Again.
Maia's heart stuttered as he crossed the room, looking every bit the stoic guard even in a soft cotton shirt and casual trousers.
"I'm sorry for snapping," she said, not brave enough to look at him while she spoke. "And for everything else."
"I appreciate the apology," he said, and Maia waited for the 'but.' "Talk to me, Maia," he said instead, sinking onto the mattress next to her, a solid wall of heat seeping into her side and making her weak.
"I don't know how it happened," she admitted, looking at her hands in her lap. "I didn’t reach for my magic; normally, I have to wind a thread through my voice to use my snaresong. But it just—rushed out."
Her stomach clenched. She couldn’t lose control of her power—shecouldn’t.
Her heart pulled so tight it hurt when soft fingers ran through her hair. The compassion grated against the dark parts of her mind that said she deserved punishment and hatred, not care.
"What if it happens again?" she asked, twisting her fingers together until they turned white. "What if I lose control and kill someone? I could rip their mind apart, I could hurt someone, hurtyou—"
She choked on the words, sick at just the thought, and her eyes threatened to stream uncontrollably when Ark pulled her onto his lap, binding her in his arms. He wouldn'tlether hurt anyone; his conscience would never allow it. It was a relief to be caged, controlled.
"It's as much my fault as it is yours," he said, making her jerk in surprise. He soothed her with a kiss to her tremulous bottom lip. "I could see you getting more frustrated with every hit; I didn't know it would end the way it did, but I knew there was a chance your temper would snap."
Maia shrank in on herself, ashamed.
"I saw the signs this time, and now I know you could lose control of your magic, I'll watch for signs next time, too." He cut off her horrified reply with a more forceful kiss. "I'm your mate, Maia, let me take care of you."
"Babysit me, you mean," she muttered against his mouth, even if the idea of having Ark stop her before she could hurt anyone was soothing.
Ark drew back enough to give her a stern look, his hazel eyes sharp and unyielding. "You'd do the same for me if my magic misbehaved."
Maia groaned at the word choice, letting her head thump against his chest. "You really are babysitting me. Don't make me call you Arkie," she threatened.
Ark laughed, the sound warming her from the inside out. "If that's what it takes for you to let me take care of you, you can call me Arkie."
"Wow," she drawled. "You really are worried about me."
Ark's arms tightened around her, and Maia's eyes fluttered at the reassurance that slammed into her soul. She swore a warm wind moved through the frozen glade of her soul, thawing the dark branches.
"Maia, you're traumatised. You're recovering from an ordeal, not to mention fighting a chaotic battle for your life and freedom, andthenfinding out you have the power of a saint inside you. Of course I'm worried about you; I love you."
Maia's heart skipped. Her eyes burned. She didn’t hesitate to reply, "I love you, Ark."
His fingers skimmed through her hair. "Don't beat yourself up over today—understood? After everything you've been through, of course you'd be affected. You need time to heal."
Easier said than done. "I don't want to be weak or afraid or out of control."
His arms flexed around her, another kiss finding her forehead. "You won't be this way forever. But pushing yourself to get back to normal isn't working."
