She was insanely curious, and once she saw the way he had moved in a fight, the need to know more was only stoked like logs on a hot fire.
“Wait…” Arii murmured, her touch light. It met his skin, and she felt a crackle of power sizzle between them. Her eyes slowly lifted to his face, shadowed by the hood as she whispered, “Stay.”
She let her hand slowly drop. Elijah was deathly still, no hint of expression on his lips. Finally, he spoke, tension thick in the air between them, his voice a ragged whisper. “If it pleases you, Miss Clearwater.”
Arii broke the contact first, moving to the set of padded chairs and a small table by the window.
Elijah followed hesitantly.
She pulled the cloak tighter around her shoulders and watched as he slowly lowered himself to the settee across from her. His posture reminded her of a wary farmer, eyeing her as if she were a temperamental animal set to bolt at a sudden movement.
“I won’t bite you, Elijah,” she said lightly, hiding any evidence that hinted at the way this man made her feel. “Much, anyway,” she finished, forcing lightness into her voice. Her eyes slid from his form to the window, watching the rain make tracks down the glass.
“I don’t understand you…” said Elijah, sitting straight in the chair.
She wished he would just relax just a little.
“One minute you insist that you want to be left alone, the next you seek company. Something tells me you may have multiple personalities in that head of yours.”
Arii’s eyes shot to the hooded figure, and she saw his lips were twitching into a hint of a smile, a tiny dimple indenting his right cheek.
Well what do you know, the man can smile.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Arii said, changing the subject.
Elijah’s head tilted to the window. “No, I find it hard to sleep during thunderstorms.”
She swore she heard an audible swallow, and she felt a curl of sympathy within her.
Now that feeling was odd.
Arii’s lips twitched into a smirk as she forced the strange emotion back. “Why don’t you ever remove your hood?” she grinned slowly, saving him from elaborating on his sleep problems further. “Is your face a sight that would scare the small children of the castle?” she joked half-heartedly before adding, “Or perhaps you are really a barbarian from the South Court?”
She was itching to see the man beneath the hood, no, she was dying to. Her fingers pressed against her lap, withholding the urge to just leap across the space and pull it from his head.
Something told her that if she attempted such a foolish thing, Elijah would not hesitate to run her through with his sword. She had seen with her own eyes the way he killed without hesitation.
Elijah paused before surprising her with an answer.
“I… feel most comfortable with it on.” A hint of a smile again. It made her heart flutter strangely. “And I feel it has established me with an air of mystery - my unknown face is perfect for any assignments the King gives me.”
She nodded in agreeance and offered him her own small smile.
“And how long have you worked for the King?” she asked, brows lifting curiously.
Elijah paused before answering, as if considering what information was best to disclose to her in that moment. “I grew up in the castle, since about the age of ten. I was adopted by a maid servant named Colleen. She is the closest thing I have to a mother.”
“And what of your family before?”
“I do not remember much of my life before being taken in by Colleen,” he said, and she believed him. She heard his voice drop an octave as he continued. “I was found in the forest when I was nine, I had lost my memory. My life prior to that is nothing but flickers of images and haze. Not enough to piece together my former life.” He paused, as if wondering why his lips spilled history so easily to this woman. It was almost like he had forgotten he did not trust her. Perhaps he did not care for his own unknown history - what little he knew of himself would be of no importance to her.
He continued, “Lorch showed me kindness, and we have been friends ever since. To serve him is my greatest honour.” His tone was resolute.
“Lorch… I mean King Lorch, is not the type of man I thought he would be,” Arii admitted, picking at a piece of lint on her knee. “He is kind, albeit a cocky son of a-” She halted and glanced up to see Elijah’s lips curled in a smile.
“Yes,” he agreed. “My King is severely misunderstood. Under the mask of a spoiled bachelor, he is just a man seeking his true calling. What that is I do not know yet. I do not even think he knows himself.”
“And to be a guard is your calling?” Arii felt a shift in the air, and another resonating clap of thunder crashed in the skies beyond. Elijah was silent for a time and she wondered if he had reached his daily quota of words. Arii watched a flash of light illuminate his form again - saw the tip of his nose tinge in silver.
He surprised her when he finally said gently, “To protect is my calling.”
Arii surveyed his hidden face, eyes sliding over the marks left by the Kryvern on his arm. He had leapt in front of Lorch without hesitation and having gotten to know the man – albeit just a little – she realised that his words rang true.
With deliberate slowness she withdrew the dagger from her waist band, and she could feel Elijah’s eyes on her hand. She placed the dagger on the table between them, her eyes lifting as a slow smirk gracing her lips.
“How about a game, Master Wolfe? I’ll wager that I can lodge this dagger into the spine of a book on the farthest shelf, one on a specific title of your choosing.”
When his head tilted to the dagger, Arii felt a sizzle of energy in the air between them again.
“If I land a hit, you must remove your hood.”
She placed a finger on the hilt of the blade and flicked it, causing it to twirl on the wooden surface. Elijah’s shadowed features gave nothing away as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. She could practically see the fabric of his leathers straining over his muscles.
“And if you miss?” he asked, and she was surprised that he was going along with the little game.
Arii’s eyes lifted slowly, staring at him through a thick veil of lashes.
“If I miss, I will kiss you.”
It was then a boom of thunder rolled over the castle, feeling as if it were directly about the dome of the library. A flash of forked lightning snaked across the sky, spearing light across Elijah’s hard jaw. The room was silent then, save the ever-distant rumble of the waterfall beyond.
“Deal.”
Arii felt her palms begin to sweat.
Her palms never sweated.
To say she was surprised that the man was going along with this was an understatement. She was sure she would win, but she was also sure that kissing Elijah would not be the worst thing in the world if she somehow lost. If she could finally gaze upon the face under the hood, it was a risk worth taking.
Standing and snatching up the dagger, Arii moved to stand by the pool at the centre of the room. She shifted her feet, swirling the dagger in her hand. She heard the light sound of the chair moving back, then Elijah stood a few feet from her side, arms folded across his chest. His head tilted towards the bookshelves at the other end of the library and she knew he was choosing a title.
“The History of Castle Viridya,” he said.
Nice, a title on the top shelf. Of course, he would choose one of the highest tomes, one which – if her aim was not true - would be a hard target.
Arii’s eyes narrowed and she let some of her magic drop. Her dulled senses heightened, her eyes lightened and the veil on her sight lowered, offering perfect clarity. She inhaled deeply, before releasing the breath.
Her arm shot out and the dagger spiralled through the air, beg
inning to dip during its trajectory to the shelf. Her eyes narrowed, and thankfully the dagger stayed its course, soon embedded in the spine of a gold tome.
Arii straightened, glancing over at Elijah who remained silent. She paced to the shelves, retrieving the book with her dagger and lifting the book to show him the face. Pressed in gold lettering was The History of Castle Viridya, flashing for him to see.
A breath escaped Elijah’s lips.
Placing the book with lodged blade on the table nearby, she shifted to stand in front of him, hands on her hips.
“Now, my end of the deal. I won fair and square.” Her brows lifted as if she were expecting him to turn on their agreement.
Elijah looked tempted to point out that he was not sure it had been a victory earned with fairness. She wondered if he could possibly know anything about her abilities, but pushed the thought aside.
“If we are to train together, we need to have trust. You need to trust me enough to see your face, Elijah.”
When he did not refuse nor move an inch, arms straight either side of his body, she moved closer and put her hands on the edges of his hood, then with painful slowness she lifted the fabric to reveal his face.
His hair was black and tinged with silver as lightning flashed above them, the hue matching the dark stubble on his strong jaw, a waving mass on the top of his head that curled at the nape of his neck and fell upon his forehead in thick waves. Unlike Lorch’s perfectly swept hairstyle, Elijah’s was dark and unruly, wavy strands reaching his eyes. His brows were thick and narrowed, his nose ever so slightly crooked as if it had once been broken. His cheeks and sharp jaw were dusted with a light layer of stubble, his face rugged and strong. Her gaze danced over his face, and his eyes made her pause her assessment of his handsome features.
They were like two molten pools of mercury, deep, clear and haunted. She noticed a darker ring of grey around the halo of his irises, two open windows to his mysterious soul within. Her breath hitched and she paused on his lips, full and slightly parted.
“Nice to finally see you…” she breathed.
Elijah’s breath also seemed to release in a whisper, as if he had been holding it in as she surveyed his revealed features. Without a thought, they were mere inches apart, Arii having lifted onto her toes to get the hood over his head and resting on his broad shoulders. She could feel the heat radiating from his body at their closeness – feel the hum of strength inches away. It was not tension… no, what she felt was something wholly different. Curiosity, hesitation and a feeling of weight being lifted. They seemed to move with each other, in unison, just like when they fought together. Weaved from the same cloth, forged of the same fires.
She almost swore he inched closer, his chest expanding with a gentle inhale.
Her insides were a tempest, a barely controlled firestorm. She felt flame race through her veins, an overwhelming need to be closer, to have nothing left between them. Her fingers tingled, the compulsion to touch his face bordering on a nervous twitch. She swallowed audibly, lips parting with a small sigh.
Having finally seen his face, she felt something else was beginning to shift between them, a confusing slither entering the depths of her cold heart. Something between them had changed recently, and this moment seemed to seal that change.
He drove her crazy, pulled all of her strings and awoke a temper within her that she usually kept pushed deep, deep down. Why was it now that she longed to touch her fingers to his lips, followed by her own? She wanted to savour the moment, allow it to linger, take it slowly and explore every single storm-lit inch of him.
Confusion… she felt confusion mixed with the unfolding of thunderstruck awe.
He was dark, brooding and beautiful.
The feeling was nothing like that of what she had felt with Lorch in the hallway. Her moment with Lorch was mindless, heat-filled and impatient.
This… this moment was something different.
Elijah’s eyes were fixed on her lips now, their silver depths smouldering like melted iron embers in a hearth, and she felt the ghost of a touch of his fingers on her chin. His hand lifted, but hovered, as if afraid to close the distance.
“You…” he breathed, pausing before trying again. “You used magic to win our bet.”
Her breath sucked in quickly. Had he seen her use magic? Or was he taking a stab in the dark? To guess at such a thing and accuse her without proof was dangerous. Had he voiced his suspicions to Lorch?
Magic was not something you spoke about openly in Viridya.
His voice did not hint at any anger, it was merely curious.
“And if I did?” she ventured.
Elijah’s eyes studied hers, his expression unchanged save for a tiny crease between his brows. He was looking at her with what she believed was the same look of gentle wonder that was on her own face in that exact moment. Her reason for wonder was far more understandable than his own - he had seen her face many times.
“Who are you?” he whispered.
“I was raised in a circus; my act was the trapeze- “
“Who are you truly, Miss Clearwater?” he said, his tone hard but not unkind. A pause before he added, “Is Arii Clearwater your true name?”
She took her bottom lip in between her teeth. This conversation was becoming far too dangerous. Her mind was spinning, trying to formulate a believable answer to his question, but all the while wondering if she could somehow distract him from the direction his thoughts were taking. She felt that nagging tug between them pull tight again and as her eyes drifted to his, the two liquid silver pools fixed on her lip caught between her teeth.
Perhaps distraction would not be as hard to achieve as she thought.
For a single moment, her mind drifted and she realised the storm above them had stopped. Hesitantly, her hands rose to rest against his chest, feeling the strong, steady and quickening beat of his heart beneath her palms.
Their noses touched as their lips inched closer, her own heart hammering like a violent drum in her ribs. It thundered in her ears as her eyes dipped to his lips again. Featherlight, his fingers brushed her jawline, and she felt a sizzle of fire at his touch.
They inched closer, breath mingling…
Suddenly golden light bathed them as the door to the library opened and a maid began to enter. Arii and Elijah broke swiftly apart, like two teens caught behind the royal stables.
“Oh!” cried the maid, seeing the two and bowing apologetically. “My apologies, I was just here to attend to the library.”
Arii was suddenly moving, the dagger retrieved from the book in a flash and placed back behind her cloak. She was slipping past the maid without preamble, dashing from the room before Elijah could see that her cheeks were tinged with scarlet.
Elijah remained where he was, a stunned expression on his features. “Colleen,” he choked.
The maid’s head snapped from watching the retreating woman to the King’s bodyguard. “Elijah, how nice it is to see you without your covering. Oh, my boy, you need a haircut!” Bustling about the library, Colleen set to work as if she had not just walked into a room charged with static electricity.
Elijah stood fixed to the spot, reeling as Arii’s violet eyes remained burned into his mind.
Then he tasted the lingering sheen of magic on his tongue.
Chapter Thirteen
Arii’s eyes were fixed on Lorch’s golden thread, the shimmering material now twined around the hilt of her dagger. Never in her years as a Fury had she ever felt like this, a raging inferno was slowly unfurling within her, a firestorm of foreign emotions that had her feeling like she was on the precipice of a cliff - a cliff that had either a sharp fall into soft clouds, or a bloody end on a jagged bed of rocks.
A mantra chanted in her head, words that had been said over and over as she grew up – as she trained u
nder the heavy eyes of the Sisters of Fate.
Emotions are weakness.
Thoughts are as deadly as the blade you wield.
And love causes blindness.
Many of the strings pulled from the Tapestry of Life were that of bad men and women, people who the Gods saw as unfit for more time on the Earth. Arii’s job as a Fury was to end those lives, ensuring the Fates’ work was fulfilled. For weeks now, Arii wondered what Lorch Kruel had possibly done to incur the Gods’ wrath, why his golden string had been the one pulled from the Tapestry. Having spent time with him, she struggled more and more to figure out what made him a bad person.
Perhaps for the first time, the Gods were wrong?
Arii balanced the dagger hilt on her finger, staring as the ends as they tilted like scales. The sharp, pointy end was Elijah, all deadly grace and sharp edges. The hilt was Lorch, all smooth and solid, balancing the sharp end perfectly. Her violet eyes were reflected back at her in the metal, and she saw in their depths a glimmer of anguish.
Was that what this feeling was? Anguish?
Or was it just simply confusion?
Maybe it was absolute, untamed, and inconceivable desire.
Emotions were so foreign to her that she was having trouble reining herself in, her anger at feeling so confused beginning to rise to the surface. An assassin was not meant to feel like this, was not mean to feel at all.
What she had always was her control – her focus.
Now that too was slipping through her fingers like sand.
Shortly after fleeing the library, Arii flew into her room and began to dress swiftly, preparing to attempt another escape from the castle. She could not do this any longer. She needed to clear her head, do something that did not involve either of the men. Preferably something with her hands. She swiftly braided her hair and slipped the dagger into her belt as someone knocked at her door.
Argh for the love of the Gods!
Was it Elijah? Or maybe it was Lorch?
She could not deal with seeing either of them at this moment.
Love, Blood & Fury Page 19