by Cora Carmack
Slowly, she climbed to her feet, feeling sore and stiff all over. “That? Child’s play.”
He laughed. “Come on. We need to find shelter and get out of these wet clothes, and hopefully start a fire.”
For once, Aurora did not argue. The wind was biting, and the temperatures were no more kind outside the city than they had been inside. She knew they risked illness the longer they stayed like this.
Using the skyfire storm in her chest as a lantern, they wandered into the nearest copse of trees and began gathering kindling and wood for a fire. Aurora held it out from her, not wanting her wet clothes to dampen the wood and make the fire harder to start. They were lucky to stumble upon a rocky area in the woods. It was not quite a cave, but it provided flat ground on which to sleep, and just enough of an overhang to block the wind and any rain that might start in the night.
They fell into an easy rhythm, laying out their materials for a fire, pausing occasionally to shuck off the wet outer layers of their clothes to make things simpler. Aurora was down to her pants and a light undershirt when she heard Kiran curse under his breath as he tried to start the fire.
She stopped to peer over his shoulder and saw his hands were shaking so badly that he was having trouble striking the flint with enough force to create a spark. She laid a hand on his already bare back. He jumped at the touch of her frigid hand, but did not move away. “Let me.”
Before, he likely would have argued, would have insisted that he knew perfectly well how to light a fire, but whether it was the exhaustion or simply the long journey they had been through together in recent months, this time he said nothing, only stood and made room for her to work.
She ignored the flint he offered her, and instead held out her hand over the flame. She too was shaking, but her intentions required less exact skill, and more brute force. She took a calming breath and reached for the part of her soul that was hers, but not. It answered, frenetic and charged and hot to the touch. She pulled, letting it roll down her arm toward the carefully arranged pile of wood, and she fixed her eyes on the kindling at the base.
With a quick jolt, her arm seized with the changing pressure, and from her palm came a small streak of white-hot skyfire. It blasted the kindling she had been aiming for, charring the ground around it. But it did the deed. Several of the larger pieces of wood burst into flame.
Kiran grabbed her by the shoulders, dragging her back a few paces and out of the reach of the popping, crackling fire that had sprung to life in moments. He grabbed a few heavier logs he had stored nearby, throwing them atop the flame, and in no time, a roaring fire blazed before them, pouring off heat that slowly began to work past the cold that had claimed every inch of Aurora’s body.
They laid out the clothes they had already removed over the large rocks that surrounded their sanctuary, and when there was nothing left to do, she turned to Kiran. He rubbed at the back of his neck, unclothed but for the pants he still wore.
He cleared his throat. “It would be best if we took off all our wet clothes.”
Aurora nodded, knowing he was right.
“We can stay in separate places,” he offered. “I will stay behind that rock,” he said, gesturing to an area farther away from the fire that would leave him cold for much of the night, she guessed. “You can stay on this side. Hopefully by morning at least some of these pieces will be dry enough to wear again.”
“That is silly,” Aurora answered. “You need to be by the fire. You will catch your death all the way over there.”
“Then we will sleep on opposite sides of the fire. And I promise not to look.”
“Now you are being ridiculous. You know very well that the smartest thing to do is for us to share body heat. Besides, it is not as if we have not slept side by side.”
Not to mention the kiss in the river, which neither of them had mentioned since they managed not to die afterward.
“Yes, well, that was before. And we were never…” He made a gesture that she guessed referred to their soon-to-be states of undress.
“Before what?”
“Before you were a princess.”
“I was a princess the entire time, Kiran. Every time you kissed me, held me, made me run until I wanted to die,” she continued, trying to lighten the suddenly heavy mood. But there was no changing the way the air had grown thick and charged between them. They had been apart so long, and now every biological instinct they had was driving them together. Perhaps a few less biological instincts too. Aurora wrapped her arms tight around herself, fighting off a shiver. “I have the same lips. The same body. I am the same person.”
“And what would your mother say if she knew you kissed someone like me?”
“Last I checked, we left my mother fairly cozy with your mentor, who is a hunter also.”
“You know that is not the same. He is a lord, apparently.”
Aurora was not quite through processing that herself. She had gleaned during their travels that Duke had been a sailor in his past. But for him to be the sailor, the one on whose story she was raised and inspired and still in some ways modeled her life after? She was not sure how she felt about that. She had spent so much of her youth imagining the true end to Finneus Wolfram’s story—waffling between nihilistic visions of a sunken ship somewhere at the bottom of the sea and fantasies of a paradise island where life was simpler and safer and so different from here. Now she knew the end of the story, and it was nothing like she could have ever imagined.
But she was not thinking about that now; she was focused on Kiran. “Do you hold his title against him even after all your years together? Will you leave his crew? Set off on your own? Will you leave him behind the way you threatened to leave me?”
Kiran huffed out a breath and sat down near the fire. “If we are going to have this conversation, we might as well get warm while we do it.” He began pulling off his boots, and Aurora inched closer, doing the same with her own shoes.
“Well?” she asked, when both their feet were bare and pushed toward the crackling fire. “Will you run from Duke like you ran from me?”
“I did not run from you.”
Aurora raised a challenging eyebrow. “Did you not? I seem to remember a door slamming and me being left alone with my heart practically in my hands.”
“I am here now, aren’t I?”
“You are. Though I have no idea why. You told me you did not belong, did not meet me when I asked you to, then showed up as part of the rebellion anyway. Your actions have not exactly been clear.”
Kiran huffed, his face pulling into a grimace. “I cannot say my feelings have always been clear either.”
Aurora swallowed, her throat parched despite how much water she had accidentally swallowed. “And are your feelings clear now?” she asked. “They felt clear back in the river, but if they are not, please do clarify.”
Kiran looked at her, the smoke from the fire turning their little alcove hazy against the night. “I still do not belong in your world.”
“Some would say I do not belong in my world either.”
Kiran’s hands flew up from where they had been clutching his knees, and the words burst out of him like a creature finally set free. “Which is why I could not leave. Skies help me, Aurora. I wanted to walk away. I wanted to be able to make that choice.” He swallowed and his face turned serious as he leaned closer to the fire, closer to her. “But as long as you are in this world, I want to have your back. I want to make certain you are safe. I want to help you do the wild, improbable things you dream of doing. I want to stand beside you as you turn this place upside down and build it anew.”
“I want you there too. I always have.” Her voice wobbled slightly as she continued, “So where have you been?”
He sighed. “I will never be good enough for you, Princess. I can do those things without tying you down to someone who brings nothing to the table. I know how royal marriages work. You have to marry someone who is your equal, someone who brings land or skill o
r riches, and I have none of those things. But I could be your guard. I could be like Taven. I would lay down my life to keep you safe, to see you reach the heights I know you can.”
Aurora had had enough of this talk.
She stood and peeled the wet undershirt over her head, tossing it to land on a rock nearby.
“Wh-what are you doing?” Kiran asked, quickly averting his gaze.
Aurora did not answer, turning her attention instead to the pants she wore, tearing at the buttons.
Kiran was on his feet in a moment, protesting, but she ignored him, pushing the pants and undergarments she wore down in one fell swoop. Kiran cursed, spinning to face away from her, much the same way he had at the Rani Delta outside Taraanar when she had been bathing. Aurora had been vulnerable and afraid then, in need of comfort. He had held her together when she felt like a thousand loose threads. His arms had provided a safe place for her to stitch herself back together. And now she intended to return the favor. With his back turned, she deposited her final pieces of clothing on the rocks, and then she went to him.
She started with a hand on his back, finding the place between his shoulder blades where muscles gave way to the straight line of his spine.
“Aurora, you don’t have to—” Kiran trailed off when she replaced her hand with her body, pressing skin to skin.
“I am cold,” she answered. “And I am tired. And I have missed you so much it feels like I am splitting apart sometimes. I have heard your reasons. I understand them. Now you will hear mine.”
He did not object, but she could feel through his back the way his breathing had picked up. She ran a hand down his muscled arm to the clenched fist at the end, and smoothed her fingers around the hard stone his hand made.
“I might be a princess, but I have no intentions of following in the footsteps of those who have come before me. I intend to listen to my people, all of them, and make decisions for the best of the majority, not just those with influence. I do not wish to become swayed by power like the ones before me, nor directed by fear as my mother was. I will not be taken in by greed, nor taken advantage of by those with ill intent. The best way I know to do this is to be true to myself. And I have never known myself better than when I am with you. Who else would I trust to tell me when I’m behaving too much like a high-handed royal than someone who loathes high-handed royals? I have no intentions of trying to make myself fit into this world you despise. I intend to make it fit me. And you. If you will stay. And I do not mean as my guard.”
After a moment, Kiran’s body still remained rigid, and Aurora began to fear the boldness that had come so easily before. As good as it had felt to kiss him again, she was determined. He had to be all in or all out.
She dropped her hand from his fist and began to back away, but before she had even finished peeling her body away from his, his fingers had found her wrist, and had pulled her back. Her chest landed against his back once more, even more firmly, for this time he had brought her arm around him, pressing her palm flat against his sternum.
“Are you sure?” he asked, still facing away from her. Aurora’s body surged with heat everywhere their skin touched, a stark contrast to where her bare legs touched his still-wet pants.
Aurora wrapped her other arm around his large body, resting it low on his hard stomach.
“I am rarely sure,” she told him, and she felt the muscles of his stomach strain beneath her hand. “But of this, I have no doubt.”
In a fierce whirlwind of excitement, Aurora found her arms flying as Kiran broke her tender hold, then she was flying too, up into his arms as he lifted her. His mouth met hers moments before he guided her legs around his waist. Aurora wasted no time being tentative, instead pouring every moment of longing and doubt and fear she had experienced into the kiss.
Every sweep of her tongue, each gasp of breath passed between their open mouths, every indent left by her clutching fingernails on his neck was another lesson she meant to teach him. The world could get no kinder, unless you made it so. Life could get no easier, unless you had something worth outlasting the hard moments. And hearts were always more likely to be broken if you assumed it was inevitable.
“I love you,” she whispered between frantic, needy kisses. “As you are. I need no other version of you.”
Kiran slowed their kisses, pulling away, and he lowered her feet to the ground. She squeezed his shoulders, worried she had said the wrong thing, going back over her words to determine what might have upset him.
Kiran cupped her face, waiting until she looked him directly in the eyes. “I love you. Every version of you.”
A small breath escaped her lips, and her mouth trembled into something like a smile. She laughed as a tear escaped her eye, and then swatted at his hip, still clad in wet clothes.
“Then take those off, and make me warm.”
He dropped a short, soft kiss on her mouth before doing exactly as she commanded.
Witches of air can vary widely with regards to intensity of power. Some were only observed to make minor manipulations in wind, while others have the power to affect air enough to create immense damage, stop someone from breathing, or even fly.
—An Examination of the Original Magics
17
Aurora expected everything to feel different when she woke the next morning. She thought the world might look entirely new after her experience the night before, but when the sun rose through the trees and the warbling song of a flurry of birds in the forest woke her, she found the world unmoved, unaltered. Her body too was the same, albeit a bit sore, though it was honestly hard to tell where the soreness from their journey through the river gave way to the soreness from their other activities.
Carefully, she lifted her head from where it rested on Kiran’s bare chest and looked up at his still-sleeping face. The world might not have changed, but some things had. The doubt that nipped at her heels like a ravenous wolf slumbered somewhere, leaving a contented feeling that was entirely foreign to her. For once, there were no more secrets hanging over her head, no more regrets. There was still much to worry about, of course; their journey was far from over. But at least now she felt like she was swimming, rather than swept away in rapids too strong for her to do anything but try to stay alive.
Aurora Pavan was living, and that had been her dream all along—to take ownership of her choices, to unravel the secrets and fear that hemmed her in like mountains. The change had begun the day she wandered into the Eye. That was when the seed had taken root, and she’d broken past the soil the day she left Pavan. Each day in the wilds had seen the change in her watered and pruned and carefully grown. But if Aurora were honest with herself, from the moment she had returned to Pavan, she had been waiting for the inevitable, waiting for her stem to break. Because in this city, in this world, in her home, she was so used to feeling weak and inadequate. When she had lost Jinx and Nova, it had been shattering; it reduced every bit of confidence she had to rubble.
But last night, Aurora had realized something. There were some things in life she did not get to choose—who she loved, how she hurt, or what she was born. But she could not run anymore when things became too painful. Kiran had tried to run from her because he thought it would not work. Aurora had spent her life running from what she was and was not. She had faced that now, but that did not mean she was through. Now she had to stand toe to toe with all the pain those memories held, and she had to feel it. Even if right now was the most inconvenient time imaginable to dig up the weight of scars unhealed. But she owed it to herself, and she owed it to Pavan to come into this with a clear slate.
Ready to face the day, and their mission, Aurora leaned down and placed a kiss on the center of Kiran’s chest. She followed it with another and another, each moving higher and higher until she reached his jaw and he stirred.
He hummed quietly and said, his voice raspy, “I do not think I have ever slept that well.”
She smiled and propped herself across his midsection. �
��You are lying on rocks, the fire is nearly out, and the air has more bite than a bear.”
“Yes, but you were beside me,” he replied, folding his arms around her, and hauling her entire body on top of him.
She squirmed, laughing. “This cannot be comfortable.”
“Who said anything about comfort?”
He caught her mouth in a searing kiss that made her forget all her intentions for the day. Almost.
She let the kiss go on as long as she dared, then pulled back, the cold air rushing in to numb her swollen lips.
She sat up, folding her arms around her bare chest to try to fend off the cold. “We should get our bearings, find the best place to do our storm work.”
Normally, they scouted areas that they thought were likely to produce a storm, but now they needed to find a place that would keep their activities as private as possible, and hopefully somewhere isolated enough that there was little chance of any damage spreading.
Kiran sat up too, throwing his arm over her shoulder and pulling her closer to his natural warmth. “Right you are.”
That did not stop him from ducking down to kiss her again, lingering longer than a peck, but not seeking to deepen the kiss. When he did pull back, it was with a sigh.
“We are going to freeze our arses off the moment we step away from this fire,” he said.
She snorted. “My arse already feels halfway gone.”
Kiran gave a look of mock horror and pulled her across his lap, planting her as close as possible to the simmering remains of the fire. “I will not let any damage come to your royal behind on my watch.”
He left her there, laughing, as he darted naked for the rocks where they had left their clothes the night before. He made a grand show of presenting her clothes to her, and she could not help but giggle, not over the clothes, but the fact that he had done the entire thing unabashedly bare as the day he had been born. Though he looked decidedly grown. Aurora’s cheeks flushed, recalling just how adult he had made her feel the night before.