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I hear Darian’s chuckle and can’t help but glance at him, finding his eyes already fixated on my reaction.
Heat rises to my cheeks, “I’ve never been on one of these before.” I admit, nervous butterflies making my stomach do flips.
He responds, his tone laced with playful encouragement, “There’s a first time for everything, Lara.”
My cheeks burn hotter.
We reach the motorcycle and Darian passes me helmet, holding it in my direction. “Put this on,” he instructs, “It might be a little big, but it’ll protect your skull in case of an accident.”
I blink at him, a hint of excitement mixing with my nervousness, and I quickly slip my head inside the helmet, eliciting a chuckle from Darian. His handsome features turn focused as he secures the strap under my chin before he gracefully climbs onto the bike, gesturing for me to take a seat behind him.
My heart gallops in my chest and I move closer, throwing my leg over the top, straddling the seat but giving a full inch of space between us as I grip the sides of his jacket.
My uncertainty with every aspect of this is on clear display as he laughs quietly before taking hold of my hands, tugging them across his waist securely.
Heat once again rushes to my cheeks, intensifying the blush that was already painted on them as he squeezes my hands against his abdomen.
Thank god I have a helmet on.
“Move forward a bit more, so you’re pressed against me. Once we start moving, I don’t want you sliding off the back,” Darian instructs, tapping my right knee to emphasize his point.
Heat courses through my entire body, turning my limbs into molten lava. I obediently shift forward, aligning our thighs and pressing myself closer to him, but his hands grip the back of my knees, pulling me flush against him until I’m more so straddling him rather than the seat. My grasp around his waist tightens as I lean into his shirt, freezing as the familiar scent of forest rain envelops my senses. I realize in that moment, it emanates from him, and my mind races to make sense of it.
“Hold on tight,” he says, his voice barely audible over the roar of the engine as it comes to life beneath us. Within seconds, we’re off, speeding down the path with an exhilarating rush.
The first minute of the ride is intense as the wind whips against my skin and the sensation of being so exposed takes some getting used to. It’s not long before I’m embracing the adrenaline rush, and the ride becomes a thrill, each passing moment filled with excitement and freedom.
We merge onto the main road, and Darian accelerates, propelling us forward with exhilarating speed. The scenery blurs as we zoom down the open road, and contagious laughter escapes my lips as he skillfully maneuvers the bike, effortlessly weaving from one side of the empty highway to the other.
I can never give Henry shit for reckless driving, ever again.
After some time, Darian veers onto a well hidden path, cleverly disguised to resemble a frequented deer crossing.
“Where are we?” I shout over the rumble of the engine as we navigate through the overgrown path.
“On the other side of the lake you’ve been researching,” Darian replies, his voice tinged with a mischievous tone. If I could see his face, I’m confident there would be a smirk accompanying his statement. I can’t help but fight back a grin of my own, even with my helmet on.
We make a wide turn into a clearing and my jaw drops in awe.
The house before us is grand yet modest, exuding the charm of a cottage but on a much larger scale than any I’ve encountered. It could easily accommodate seven people with ample space to spare.
Perched just a stone’s throw away from the lake, the house is merely 20 feet from the crashing waves and a picturesque sandy beach reflecting the moonlight and brightening the whole area.
“This is stunning,” I breathe, my eyes drinking in the incredible scenery around us.
“Thank you. I built it myself,” he says with a touch of pride, guiding the bike into a garage connected to the house and switching off the engine.
“You built all of this yourself?” I can’t hide the disbelief in my voice, which prompts Darian to burst into laughter.
“Yes, believe it or not. I’m quite the carpenter without magic. This was a fulfilling project that kept me busy for a while,” he explains as he helps me dismount the bike, a hint of satisfaction evident in his tone.
The memories of Caspian’s words about Darian’s obsession with magic flood my mind. “So, this is what you did when your magic was bound from Earth twenty-five years ago?” I inquire, trying to piece together the timeline.
Darian’s expression softens, and he gently corrects me, “No, Lara. This is what I started over 150 years ago when my brother was banished, and because we share the same bloodline, I was as well.” he says with a sad smile.
My eyes widen into saucers, “Banished?” I ask, my voice comes out as a squeak and I wince internally.
Well this just got more complicated.
