BOUND (#1 in The Crystor Series)

by C.K. Bryant

Chapter Eighteen

  Kira didn’t know what kind of reaction Octavion anticipated, but by the look on his face he hadn’t expected her to scream. When she did, he jumped back, lost his footing and went down. By the time he came up out of the water again, Kira stood on the rock ledge, examining the rest of her body for leeches.

  “Don’t just stand there—help me. Get them off.”

  Chuckling, he shook the water from his hair and leapt up beside her. “I told you there were leeches in there.”

  She pulled her hair on top of her head and spun around. “Stop laughing and look at my back. Do you see any?”

  “There was only one. You are clean,” he answered in a nonchalant manner.

  “How can you be sure?” She examined her legs, pulling up the hem of her shorts to see if any had snuck up there. When he didn’t answer, she stopped and looked at him. “Oh, let me guess. You can talk to leeches, too.”

  He raised one brow, folded his arms and smirked. “I just know.”

  “Well, why don’t you have any on you?” He didn’t seem the least bit concerned that one of the parasites could be sucking his blood.

  Octavion shrugged his shoulders. “They don’t like the taste.”

  Kira glared at him. “What, you’re joking, right?” But then, after the past few days, she would believe just about anything.

  “We think it is our royal blood. They don’t bother Altaria, but Lydia is always loaded with them. It is the only explanation.”

  “I thought you were both Royals.”

  “Our father, who is king, is a Royal, but we have different mothers. My mother came from Finvarra, a neighboring kingdom, and was also a Royal. My blood is pure.” He pulled on his boots.

  Kira shook the dirt off her socks and began to pull them on as well. It wasn’t an easy task with her feet still wet. “So, who’s Lydia’s mother?”

  He sat on his rock, but this time leaned forward, placed his arms across his thighs and held his vest in his hands. “Shandira is the oldest—barely one year between us. Our mother died giving me life. My father couldn’t take care of us alone and wasn’t satisfied with any of the servants in the castle, so he sent for a nursemaid from the village to tend to our needs. It took some time, but just before my second year, he announced to our kingdom that he had chosen another bride.”

  “Your nursemaid?” How romantic, she thought.

  “Yes. The kingdom began to celebrate the idea of having a new queen, but then they found out she was a commoner.”

  “What happened?”

  “He was the king. There was nothing anyone could do to stop him, so he married her. It was this union that caused Lydia to have a kindred spirit.”

  “So, Lydia has common blood, and Altaria has royal?”

  “Yes.”

  “But if they share the same body, how can their blood be different?”

  He paused for a moment. “I believe it is because their spirits can manipulate their body slightly, they can also change the way blood flows and how it reacts to certain things. It isn’t something I’ve been able to figure out. I just know they react differently to things . . . like the leeches.” He turned his head to one side and took a breath through his nose. “We should go. There is a storm coming.”

  Kira looked up at the sky. The cliffs hid the distant horizon, but there wasn’t a single cloud above them. “How can you tell?”

  “I can smell it.” He turned to start up the hill, exposing four deep scratches that ran about six inches up the left side of his back. They’d started to heal, but were still red and scabbed over. “Octavion—stop!”

  He spun around, looking her over as if she’d found another bloodsucker crawling up her leg. “What is it?”

  “Your back . . . did I do that?” She had no idea she’d dug in that deep. No wonder he’d tossed her on her butt.

  He released the tension in his shoulders. “Yes, but you needn’t concern yourself with it.”

  Kira stepped closer and touched one of the scabs with the tip of her finger. He winced. “They still hurt? Please let me try to fix them. Maybe my healing powers will work on you, too.” She placed her hand over the wounds, but he pulled away.

  “Leave it,” he said.

  “But I might be able to heal them. Please, Octavion. I feel horrible about hurting you.”

  He shrugged on his vest, then offered his hand to help her up the slope. His voice, now softer, he insisted, “Leave them. They are mine to deal with as I wish.”

  She felt she had no choice. How could someone with such a perfect body want to be left with ugly scars? It didn’t make sense.

  When they got back to the canyon, they found the black stallion grazing in the soft grass. Octavion grabbed the horse’s mane and swung up on its back. He offered Kira his hand.

  “I think I’ll walk,” she said, rubbing her arm. Kira’s pride was one wound she couldn’t heal—besides, wet shorts on the bare back of a horse didn’t sound like such a good idea.

  In the distance, the sky rumbled—the storm was on its way.

  “We must get back,” he said.

  Kira reluctantly took his hand, letting him pull her up to sit behind him on the horse’s back. It was more difficult than she thought it would be, because the horse was so wide. She felt like she was doing the splits while being jostled about from side to side. She didn’t realize she had a death grip around Octavion’s waist until they broke out into the meadow and she was able to relax her arms. They ached from holding him so tight.

  Octavion leaned forward and grabbed a bigger chunk of the horse’s mane. “Hold on,” he instructed.

  “Hold on?” Kira had barely tightened her arms around his muscular torso again when he dug his heels into the horse’s rib cage.

  For the next few minutes, Kira was jostled about like a bull rider in a rodeo. Octavion’s riding skills were impeccable—he was one with the horse—but she was bouncing all over the place. It didn’t take long for the insides of her legs to ache.

  “Octavion, please stop,” she begged.

  He slowed the horse to a trot and pulled back on his mane. “Whoa, boy.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m barely hanging on back here. Can we walk for a while?” She released her hold and leaned back, resting her hands on the horse’s rump. “Please. I’d rather jog than sit on this horse another minute.”

  Octavion groaned. “Tell Lydia to be ready to ride.” Then he swung his leg over the horse’s head and slid to the ground.

  “Why can’t you tell her?”

  “Shandira may hear. I’ll explain later, we need to get back.”

  Kira did as he asked. “She’s not too happy,” she told him.

  “Lydia hates riding.”

  Kira swung her leg over to slide down the same way he had, but instead, he slipped his hands under her arms and guided her to the ground, pausing for a moment when their eyes met.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  As he turned to walk in front of her, she grabbed the seams of her shorts between her legs and pulled them down. “Ugh.” They were sticky and covered in horsehair. Disgusting.

  Octavion turned to face her. “Shall I carry you?” he asked, flashing a smile.

  “No,” she said. “I’m perfectly capable of walking.”

  By the time they reached the picnic spot, Lydia had packed and stood waiting by her horse.

  “Took you guys long enough,” Lydia said.

  Don’t ask. Kira glared at Lydia. You owe me. “I decided to walk.” She used that for her excuse.

  Lydia snickered. When Kira turned to see Octavion’s expression, he was already on the horse. Once again, he offered his hand. “I will take it slow,” he promised.

  Dark gray clouds covered the sky, and the small rumbles they’d heard earlier were nothing compared to the cracking booms that now shook the ground. Lightening streaked across the western sky. They were in for a big one.

  When Kira finally took his hand, she expec
ted to sit behind him as before, but he scooted back on the horse and brought her up in front of him—sidesaddle.

  “What are you doing?” It was embarrassing. Who rode this way anymore?

  “It will be easier on your . . . constitution,” he said.

  “Well, at least show me how to hold on so I don’t fall backward.”

  He wrapped his right arm around her waist, pulling her close, and took hold of the horse’s mane with his left. “I will hold onto you,” he whispered in her ear. His warm breath rushed down her neck and she quivered.

  “You guys are so cute,” Lydia said. Kira hadn’t noticed that she’d brought her camera with her, so it surprised her when Lydia held it up to her face and snapped a picture.

  Octavion tensed. “Lydia!” he scolded. “Must we speak?”

  “I know. Don’t worry, I’ll delete it,” Lydia said.

  “What’s wrong with taking pictures?” Kira asked.

  “He’s right. I can’t take pictures of this place, or us. If they got in the wrong hands—it could be dangerous.” Lydia placed the camera in her bag and zipped it shut.

  “I understand,” Kira said under her breath.

  Lydia handed her bag to Octavion who slung it over his back. Lydia grabbed her horse by its mane. She got about halfway up, throwing her leg over his back, but then slid off.

  “Let me help,” Octavion said.

  “No! It’s just . . . the walk here took more energy than I thought.” She looked at Kira. Close your eyes.

  Kira knew what Lydia was going to do. No.

  Please, Kira.

  But Kira stood her ground. She’d had to deal with enough of her own fears the past few days, especially learning her friend was someone other than who she appeared to be. Perhaps it was time for Lydia to face her own.

  Lydia took a deep breath and looked at her brother. He nodded, as if giving permission.

  Kira didn’t know what she expected, but what she saw was nothing short of pure beauty. Instead of an awkward and chilling mutation, it seemed smooth and angelic. Lydia had transformed into a royal princess—with an attitude from hell.

  Yep, that’s Altaria, Kira thought.

  Altaria swung onto her horse with ease. “Let’s ride,” she said. The horse reared, but she held tight. When it came down hard, she buried her heels in its sides and took off.

  “Well, no wonder.” If that was the same horse Kira had ridden and the kind of riding he was used to, he was probably mad at Kira for not hanging on.

  Octavion nudged his horse forward. “She likes to ride.”

  “I can see that—and she’s a bit cocky, too,” Kira said.

  “That, she is.”

  By the time Octavion and Kira arrived at Lydia’s car, the clouds had opened up and rain poured down in sheets. Lydia sat in the driver’s seat, out of the weather. She opened the window enough to stick out her hand and wave. “Get in. You’re soaked.”

  Octavion slid Kira off the horse and handed her Lydia’s pack. When she turned to thank him, he was already riding away.

  “Hey!” Kira yelled.

  He pulled the horse to a stop and nudged him around.

  “Thank you,” she said. “I had a good time.”

  He nodded. “As did I.” Then he turned and rode down the path and out of site.

  Most of the drive home was quiet. Kira went over everything she’d seen that day, trying to make her mind grab hold of it all. About halfway down the mountain, Kira looked over at Lydia to find tears streaming down her face.

  “What is it?” Kira asked.

  Lydia wiped a tear from her cheek. “Nothing.”

  “Pull over. We need to talk.” When the car didn’t slow, Kira grabbed Lydia’s arm. “Pull over, please.”

  Lydia took her foot off the accelerator and steered the car to the side of the road. Lydia shoved it into park and shut off the engine. She lowered her eyes to her hands and began fiddling with a loose thread on the hem of her shirt.

  “I’m sorry you had to see that,” Lydia finally said.

  “What?” Kira asked.

  “When I changed, it must have frightened you.”

  Kira turned in her seat so she faced Lydia. “How can you say that? It was beautiful.”

  Lydia shrugged. “You were so quiet. I thought maybe it scared you, or it was horrible or something. I’ve never really seen it myself, so—”

  “Lydia, you have nothing to worry about. It was like watching a flower bloom. It was magical.”

  Lydia smiled. “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  The relief on Lydia’s face was short lived and soon her smile faded. “Then what’s bothering you?”

  Kira twisted back around, facing forward again. “I just have a lot to take in, that’s all.”

  Lydia nodded. “He takes a little getting used to.”

  Kira shot her a look. “How . . . did he say something to you?”

  “He didn’t have to. I’m his sister. I knew something was wrong. Care to enlighten me?”

  “I broke my arm.”

  “What?” Lydia’s eyes widened with surprise. “How did that happen?”

  “I got bucked off, that’s how.” Kira rubbed her arm. It didn’t hurt anymore, but it felt stiff, and a warm sensation still came and went. “When your stupid horse turned on me, Octavion jumped from his and almost took mine to the ground. He was really mad.” She wasn’t sure how else to explain what had happened. She didn’t want to hurt Lydia’s feelings or call him an animal after her reaction to Lydia’s transformation.

  Lydia closed her eyes and sat for a moment, saying nothing. When she opened them, she looked more serious. “Does he know? That you saw him, I mean?”

  Kira nodded.

  Lydia stared out the windshield. “How did you react?”

  “Like a scared little kid. And he didn’t explain anything, just denied my seeing him . . . like that.” Kira turned to face Lydia. “Why do his eyes change?”

  Lydia sighed. “I’m not sure it’s my place to say. He’d be mad.”

  “Well, he’s not going to tell me. You can be sure of that.”

  “Honestly, I don’t think he intended for you to know as much as you do,” Lydia said.

  “It was his idea to give me the Crystor. How did he expect me to be there for you, and not see everything I’ve seen?”

  Lydia didn’t say anything, just sat quietly.

  “Lydia?”

  She finally turned to face Kira. “I don’t think he expected you to live through that night.” It was almost a whisper.

  “Oh.” Kira felt as though someone had sucked all the air out of her lungs. A dull ache settled around her heart. “I see.”

  “Kira, I’m sorry.”

  “No. I understand now. Why he brought me back to my house without so much as a word and . . . just take me home.” Kira turned away and stared out the side window at the trees. “Please, just take me home.”

  Lydia started the engine, and slipped the car into gear. “I’m sorry,” she said again, but Kira didn’t respond.

  When they reached Kira’s driveway, Lydia retrieved her pack and pulled out her camera. She opened the flap on the side and removed the memory card. “Will you save the ones near the bridge and delete the rest?”

  “Yeah.” Kira took the card. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “Is that why he doesn’t live down here—because he doesn’t want anyone to see him like that?”

  “Partly. He actually tried it for a while. When we first arrived in Montana, he cut his hair short, pulled on a pair of blue jeans, and got a job in construction.”

  “Montana?” Kira’s mind wandered back to when she was younger. Her grandfather lived in Montana and she used to visit him there in the summertime. Then an imagine of Octavion in blue jeans popped into her head and the memory faded. “So, what happened?”

  “He hated it. For one thing, he doesn’t get along very we
ll with people. And for another . . .” She paused for a moment. “He has a temper.”

  “Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed.”