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He paused, smiling in a way that caused my heart to flutter. “It’s refreshing seeing you interested in anything that has to do with me. I wish you’d do it more often.”
Heat flooded my cheeks, especially when he scooted a few inches closer and rested his hand over mine. I startled. “What are you doing?” My tone was so breathless I could barely speak. But I didn’t pull away; doing so would be impossible.
He smiled as our gazes met. “Playing with your hand.” He traced the back of mine with his finger before pausing, suddenly wary. “Is this not alright?”
It shouldn’t be, and I had every intention of telling him that itwasn’t…only to find myself nodding, the feelings developing within my heart far outweighing everything else. My breath hooked as Darius resumed his touch, his look concentrated as he traced his fingertip up and down each of my fingers, causing my pulse to palpitate wildly.
Soon his touch explored further, moving from the back of my hand up my arm before caressing my cheek. “The lights are reflecting off your glitter.” He reached out, almost hypnotically, to brush against my shoulder and grasp the ends of my hair.
For a moment time seemed to stop as he caressed my hair between his fingers, his gaze filled with a look similar to Caspian’s when he’d played with Angel’s hair. I found myself leaning against his touch before I came to my senses and pushed his hand away.
“Please don’t,” I whispered, but my fingers lingered against my will on his warm skin.
He slowly pulled away, severing our contact. “Tell me about life on Earth. What was it like living amongst the Mortals? I’ve always wondered how they get along without magic.”
And in an instant, the beautiful moment was ruined. Although his emerald gaze was soft, inquiring, I felt my guard raise and my doubt return. I searched his expression. Why would he want to know? Was it curiosity, because he too could sense our connection, or for a more sinister purpose? I hesitated, torn between telling the truth and lying.
“You already know the answer to that considering how much you spied on me for the Council.”
He sighed. “You can’t blame me for noticing the only possessor of magic on Earth who’s ever been seen by Mortals. You obviously possess unusual power. I’m surprised you haven’t managed to scrape more wins during our Weavings.”
His fishing was getting closer and closer to my heavily protected secrets. “It’s not my fault I’m partnered with someone so annoyingly talented,” I snapped. “I saw the nightmare you created for your exam in the weaving highlights. Why are you such an accomplished Weaver?”
Darius shrugged, feigning modesty. “Just lucky, I guess.” He chuckled, a sound that was light, bouncy, and full of unexpected warmth. “You’re distracting me. Tell me about Earth.”
I softened at his imploring expression. I supposed tales of Earth were very different than my dream-watching abilities. Plus I couldn’t deny I wanted to share parts of myself with him.
He listened with rapt attention as I told him about growing up in my cottage covered in ivy and honeysuckles, my bedroom tucked away in the attic like a treehouse, the dusty bookshop whose books crumbled with age, the vibrant forest that was always quiet and peaceful, as well as my favorite village shops and festivals.
I also described the hours working side by side with Mother in the garden. As I spoke, I could almost see each dainty flower, feel the texture of soil against my hands as I carefully tended the plants, smell the blossoms’ sweet symphonic scent, and Mother—my eyes grew misty and I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat.
“I’d ask whether you’d ever consider taking up Cultivating,” Darius said. “But after what happened with the nightmare flower…that reservation aside, I bet you’d be good at it.”
“I’m too busy trying to survive our Weavings.”
A smile caressed Darius’s lips. “I can’t deny that.”
We laughed, both scooting closer as we did so. “I’m sorry, that’s probably more than you wanted to know about my old life,” I said.
“Nonsense, I want to hear more. You haven’t mentioned your friends yet.”
I lowered my eyes. “I didn’t have any.” My cheeks warmed at the admission. “Even before they discovered my powers and burned my home, the villagers always avoided me. They always suspected I had magic; I suppose it’s difficult to trust the only villager with colorful hair. That’s why I can never go back.”
His expression hardened. “Were they rude to you?” At my nod, his hands curled into fists. “Give me names. I’ll study them day and night until I discover what scares them most so I can give them the most frightening nightmare imaginable.”
My heart warmed at his sweet defense. “Isn’t weaving for a Mortal that’s not your own against the rules?”
His hand returned to my face. “I’d risk it for you.” He lightly traced the outlines of each star sparkling my cheek. Slowly, effortlessly, the walls I’d built to harbor my burning resentment again crumbled. Sitting with Darius made it so easy to trust him, to hope that the smoldering look filling his eyes was real rather than just another dream. I leaned into his stroking fingertips, but just as I was deciding his caress felt rather nice, he pulled his hand away.
“Seen any good dreams lately?”
Instantly, the moment we’d so carefully spun between us with each mesmerizing twist of the flying colors unraveled.
“You set me up.” Even though I’d suspected it from the beginning, heat flashed through my body as all my resentment—which had been festering since learning of Darius’s betrayal—returned and boiled over.
He flinched as if I’d slapped him. “No, I—”
“Stop playing games, I know exactly what you’re up to. The only reason you wanted to watch the flying colors together was so you could uncover more of my secrets. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I’ve never seen any dream except for the one you wove for me.”
