Ignite

by Sara B. Larson

  I hoped he couldn’t read the emotions on my face. I made my voice stay firm and detached when I responded, “Well, it is the middle of the night…. Although that does seem to be a favorite time of yours to speak with me.” I regretted bringing up the past the moment the words were out of my mouth.

  “Yes, I suppose so,” he said, his voice tight. Controlled. “You obviously need to rest. We can speak in the morning.”

  “Why didn’t you just wait until morning to begin with? You kept this particular passage a secret for this long.” I widened my eyes to force them to stay open. It was a testament to the sheer exhaustion I was battling that I had to fight so hard to stay awake when Damian was standing so close to me. In my bedroom. Alone. “Why reveal it now?”

  “I’m concerned about this delegation from Dansii. I don’t think they are all that they appear to be. Sometimes —” He shook his head, cutting himself off. After a pause, he continued, “I don’t know who I can trust right now. But despite everything, I still trust you. I needed to talk to someone, and I didn’t want to be overheard.” Damian crossed his arms in front of his body as he stared down at me, with a look of concern on his face very similar to the one Rylan had worn earlier. “But it’ll have to wait. You need to sleep. We can talk tomorrow.”

  “We can talk now. I’m fine. See?” I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. The blood rushed up through my body or down or somewhere wrong, and everything went momentarily black.

  Damian’s hands closed over my upper arms, holding me up. Did I need to be held up? I was pretty sure I’d been standing. Although my legs did feel strange and the room seemed to be swaying beneath me. Stars popped as my vision slowly returned to see him staring down at me. The heat of his fingers burned through my tunic, and the warmth of his body, only inches from mine, was a tantalizing invitation. His eyebrows pulled low over his eyes as I stood motionless beneath his hands.

  My gaze dropped to his lips, and my heart began to thud in my chest. The pain in my head, the exhaustion, the worries and fears all faded away as I stared at his mouth. Without letting myself think or question what I was doing, I lifted my face to his. This was what I wanted — he was what I wanted. Who I needed. I’d been a fool to reject him. He’d been a fool to believe me. Did he truly think I could stop loving him so easily? When he looked at me as he was now, with a hunger and need to match mine so evident on his beautiful face and in his eyes, I knew he didn’t see my scars — inside or out. He only saw me. Alexa.

  “You need to go to sleep,” he said suddenly, his voice gruff, pushing me away gently but firmly so that the backs of my knees hit the edge of my bed. My legs gave out, making me sit down hard on the mattress. “But this time, take your sword off first.”

  “Damian … did I … was I wrong to …” I couldn’t seem to make the right words come out as my body flamed with embarrassment. I’d lifted my mouth to his, asking to be kissed. And he’d rejected me?

  “You’re not feeling well. I don’t want you to regret anything in the morning, especially since I know how you truly feel when you’re not delirious from exhaustion. Go to sleep, Alexa. I’ll find a way to speak with you alone tomorrow.” Damian looked at me for a moment longer, his expression indecipherable in the darkness. Then he turned away. I watched him with my heart in my throat as he felt along my wall until he found some sort of latch or lever and it popped open again. In the blink of an eye, he slipped through the opening and was gone.

  * * *

  I woke the next morning stiff, my head still aching. The weak gray light of predawn fought to break through the lingering cloud cover. The events of the night before seemed like a combination of a dream and a nightmare. When I looked at the floor, I saw my sword still in the scabbard, which I’d finally taken off and tossed next to my bed before curling into a ball on top of my blankets and falling almost immediately into a nightmare-ridden sleep.

  This time, it wasn’t Iker who haunted me. Instead, Damian stood far above me, at the top of a massive marble staircase, staring down at me with hatred in his eyes. His voice thundered, making the ground beneath me shake, but I couldn’t understand what he said. I kept trying to hurry up to him, but no matter how many stairs I climbed, he never got any closer. Suddenly, Vera stood beside me, and when he extended his arm out to her, she glided up the stairs without touching them until she stood by his side. When they grasped hands, a physical pain tore through my body.

  Suddenly, the stairs began to split apart, dividing down the middle and then crumbling into pieces. And still, Damian and Vera towered above me, held up by an unseen power that filled the air with darkness. I tried to grab on to something, anything, but my fingers slipped and I fell, tumbling, head over feet until I landed flat on my back on a ground scorched black by fire, barren of life.

  Rylan stood beside me, but rather than reaching down to my broken body, he stared up at Damian and Vera, his gaze adoring. I tried to reach for him but was unable to move. This time, Vera spoke, and at her command, fire flared up all around us, rushing to devour Rylan and me. And yet, he still watched her, motionless, his eyes shining with blissful unawareness. I screamed and screamed as the flames closed in, and then I jerked awake in my bed inside my own room.

  As I hurried to wash and dress in a clean uniform, the lingering terror of my nightmare wouldn’t go away. It’s a dream and nothing more, I tried to tell myself. But I was determined to find out the truth about why Vera was here as soon as possible. After I found Jax and returned him to safety — he was the priority. My heart lurched as I thought of the poor little boy, alone and terrified. I wanted to rush out to begin searching for him immediately, but first I had to find out what Damian knew — what the ransom note said, if it gave us any clues.

  My headache had already returned by the time I strapped on my scabbard and opened my door. I thought about trying to find the secret passageway for a moment but quickly decided against it. Jax needed me, and figuring out how to travel secretly to the king’s rooms didn’t help him.

  When I walked out, Asher stood outside Damian’s door, looking half asleep.

  “Who’s supposed to relieve you?” I asked.

  “Leon,” he replied, snapping back to alertness. “He’ll be here any minute, I’m sure.” Asher paused. “Shouldn’t you still be sleeping? I heard —”

  “I’m fine.” I cut him off. “I slept for a few hours, and that’s enough for now.”

  He shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

  “Any word on Jax?”

  “No one’s been up yet. So I guess not.”

  I sighed. “If Leon doesn’t show up in the next few minutes, go wake him up. I’m going to speak with the king.”

  Asher gave me a mocking salute. “Yes, ma’am. Private matters to discuss?”

  “I might be tired, but I could still knock you flat on your back without even trying, Asher. Don’t test my patience.” I turned and swung open the door to Damian’s outer chamber.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Asher said behind me. “Alexa.”

  I ignored him as the door shut.

  After taking a deep breath, I walked into the room where I had slept on a cot all those months ago, when I had first learned that Damian wasn’t who I thought — that he’d been hiding who he really was for years. Just like me.

  When I knocked at his door, there was no response. I pushed it open slowly, and peeked in to see Damian standing by his window, his arms folded across his chest.

  “Your Majesty —” I started to say, but stopped when he startled and whirled to face me.

  “Alex,” he breathed in relief. “What are you doing — do you need something?”

  “I knocked, Sire,” I said lamely, gesturing to his door.

  “I was lost in thought. I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.” Damian took a few steps toward me, close enough that I could see circles the color of bruises beneath his eyes. “And please, at least when we’re alone … can you just use my name? I miss hearing it. Especially
from you.”

  His words wrapped around me, as warm as a caress. “Didn’t you sleep at all?” I asked abruptly.

  “Do I look that bad?” He lifted one eyebrow.

  I opened my mouth and then closed it, not sure what to say. Even with the dark circles, he certainly didn’t look bad. He was as handsome as ever, so much so that it actually hurt to look at him, a sharp barb somewhere between my chest and my stomach.

  “I can’t stop thinking about Jax out there … somewhere. And the ransom note,” he continued, reaching up to shove a hand through his hair. He seemed to be trying to fix it, but instead, he only made it messier. “Why did you come?”

  I forced my eyes away from his hair and focused on his chin instead. A chin was harmless. I didn’t want to run my hands through his chin. “I came to see what you wanted to talk to me about … last night.”

  “Ah yes. What was so urgent that I risked your wrath by showing up alone in your chamber?” Damian went over to his massive desk and picked up a scroll of parchment. “I wanted to talk to you about this, for one.” He held it out toward me.

  I had to cross his room to take the parchment from his hands. Memories of the week I had spent in the bed — his bed — as I recovered from the battle with Iker flooded back. This was the room where I’d first seen my newly disfigured face, and it was also where Damian had looked at me and told me for the first time that he loved me, in spite of my scars.

  I cleared my throat, forcing the memories away, and looked down at the missive. The handwriting was tight, and it looked as though it had been written in a rush. “I don’t read Blevonese.”

  “I don’t think the person who wrote this is a native of Blevon, either. While the language is technically correct, some of the grammatical choices he made are odd — basically old-fashioned. As though he’d learned the language from a book or someone very elderly.” Damian took the letter back and stared down at it, as though it could somehow impart answers to him.

  “How do you know it’s a ‘he’?” I asked, thoughts of Vera on my mind. “A woman could be behind it.”

  “Of course. I just figured the handwriting looked masculine.” He glanced up at me and then quickly away, out the window.

  Silence weighed heavily over us for a long moment. My instinct was to go to him, to take him in my arms, to comfort him. Instead, I stood stiffly, battling myself and the feelings I knew I needed to crush once and for all.

  “I wish I could go after him,” Damian said softly. “I feel so trapped here, in my palace. On my throne. I am a king, and yet I’ve never felt more powerless to do something.”

  Despite my best intentions, I took a couple of steps closer to him and hesitantly reached out to rest my hand on his arm. “You’re far from powerless. You have the entire army of Antion to do your bidding. As well as your guard and all those who care about you and Jax.”

  “An army that is already stretched too thin, without the threat of a new war.” Damian put his hand over mine, gripping me tightly. He stared down at our interlaced fingers, his face filled with unmasked pain and desperation. “I’m supposed to fix Antion, to heal her … and instead, I feel as though she’s being torn apart at the seams. I haven’t been king more than a month.” He laughed once, a mirthless, bitter sound.

  “You are doing the best you can, Damian. Antion is healing because of you. And I promise that I will do everything in my power to bring Jax safely back home.”

  Damian looked up; our eyes met and locked. I knew I should back away. I knew it — just as I’d known it last night. But something in me was coming unraveled. The strength I’d clung to for the last month was leaving me, and I couldn’t bring myself to do it. When he bent forward slightly, hesitantly, I stood unmoving, my heart slamming into the cage of my ribs.

  He paused a hairsbreadth away from kissing me. “Alexa,” he murmured, his lips brushing mine with the sound of my name. “I — I need —”

  And then he could say no more because I couldn’t hold back any longer. I lifted my face so that our mouths met. He let go of my hand to wrap his arm around me, pulling me against his chest. My heart jolted within me, shocked into stillness for the space of a breath before restarting with a frantic lurch. I pressed into him, molding myself to his body, as his lips moved on mine, hard, desperate, full of the need we’d both been denying for weeks and weeks. Every day, I’d stood by him and forced myself to suppress my feelings, but now … now I was finally whole again — in his arms, with his mouth on mine. My heart beat without pain for the first time since before my battle with Iker.

  He reached up to thread his fingers through my hair, tilting my head slightly. His lips parted, and when his tongue brushed my mouth, all the strength left me. My fingers curled around his tunic and I clutched at his back, gasping for air.

  But in the small corner of my mind that was still functioning, reality pulsed — demanding my attention. I’d told him no once before, and it had nearly destroyed me.

  Now, because of my weakness, I had to do it again. I couldn’t delude myself into thinking anything had changed. I was still not suitable to be his queen. And there was still no future for us. No matter how right this felt. I needed to leave, right now, before I couldn’t. I had to go find Jax.

  “Stop,” I gasped, pushing at his shoulders. Damian froze but didn’t let go of me yet. Until I pushed again, harder. “Stop,” I repeated, louder. “We can’t do this.”

  He let his arms drop and took two quick steps back. His eyes were darkened, and his chest rose and fell with his labored breathing. “Why? Why must we stop?”

  “Nothing has changed,” I said. My mouth burned from his early-morning stubble, and my blood still raced through my veins.

  “What do you mean?” he asked quietly, carefully.

  “What I told you before is still true.”

  “Which part — when you told me I was a good king? Or are you referring to the day I told you I loved you, and you told me you could never trust me and didn’t want me?”

  I jerked back as though I’d been slapped. Any warmth that had been in his eyes was gone, replaced by a cold anger. I had to clench my jaw to hold back the tears that threatened to surface. I couldn’t let him see me cry. I couldn’t let him know just how badly it hurt me to do this — to him … to me … to us. If only he knew it was because I loved him so much that I wanted what was best for him and Antion.

  “As I see it, both statements can’t be true. You can’t possibly think me a good king if you still find me untrustworthy. Can you?”

  I blinked hard, once. “I believe that we have many threats to deal with right now, and I shouldn’t have distracted you from that.”

  “Distracted me?” Damian laughed again, harshly. “Is that what this was — a distraction?”

  “Sire.” I had to look down, away from him. “If you truly believe Blevon is somehow being framed, then we must ascertain the true threat before anyone else suffers … or is killed.”

  There was a long pause, and then, “Yes, you are right. Of course.”

  I glanced up to see that the bitter anger on his face had drained away at my words — at the reminder of Jax’s danger — leaving his expression grim and resigned. He turned away from me, his shoulders thrown back stiffly. “No more distractions.” He bit the word out. “From now on, we will only focus on the problems at hand.”

  I stood there, helplessly watching him close off from me, yet again. It’s for the best, I chanted silently to myself. But my mantra felt hollow next to the blinding pain beating through my body once more.

  “We must go after Jax, as soon as possible, if the trail hasn’t already been washed away,” I said, desperate to escape now that I’d been so foolish as to let the unthinkable happen. I’d kissed him. I’d led him to believe I’d changed my mind, and now I’d hurt him again, when so many things were already going wrong. Shame heated my neck.

  “They’re going to bring him here — if we give in to their demands.” Damian still didn’t
turn to face me.

  “They are?”

  “The ransom dictates that they’ll bring the boy back if their demands are met in the next three days.”

  When he didn’t continue, I haltingly asked, “What do they want?”

  Damian finally turned to look at me, his face carefully empty. But pain still lurked in his eyes when they met mine. “They want you.”

  THE JUNGLE SEETHED with life all around us as Rylan and I walked outside the palace wall. The morning sun was already hot on my face, and sweat trickled down my spine from the pressing humidity. Insects buzzed, and I swatted at the air around me as I searched the ground.

  “Keep your eyes down and look for any sign of his abduction,” I instructed.

  “I know how to track someone,” Rylan said, lifting an eyebrow at me. “If there’s anything left to track, after that storm last night.”

  I sighed, refusing to lose hope. I had to find Jax and get him back, otherwise Damian would be forced to choose between his half brother and me. I had three days. Three days until I’d have to give myself up, or else Jax would die.

  “Why don’t you head that way, and I’ll go this way.” I forced away the terrifying worries. I couldn’t afford to let them eat away at me and distract me. I had to focus. I had to find him.

  “I don’t know if it’s a good idea to split up,” Rylan disagreed. “Let’s stay together for now.”

  I shrugged, but secretly I was glad. I hated being alone in the jungle. Even if it would have been more efficient to split up, I felt better with him by my side.

  The awkwardness from last night still lingered as we walked silently around the perimeter of the palace, searching for any sign of Jax’s abduction. I studied every leaf, twig, and rock for a hint of a track. The encounter with Damian was still fresh on my mind, and it took all of my control to force away the memory of his mouth on mine. General Ferraun had come in right after Damian told me the terms of the ransom letter, to discuss the attack on the villages and the missing taster, and I had excused myself, needing to get away — to do something.