A written thank-you wouldn’t be enough. Rowen let out a shaky breath, then leaned forward and hugged Kristoff as tight as he could, hoping his mentor—no, just Kristoff—would understand how much what he was doing meant.
He wasn’t sure when the hug turned into a kiss, but he was sure Kristoff started it. He didn’t fight it, though. This was what he had dreamed of. Worries about the future—if this would last, if he would destroy the island with a heat spell, if he would die himself due to his power—were washed away by Kristoff’s kiss and the closeness of his body.
Maybe he truly wouldn’t be alone after all.
Chapter 33
IT WAS the right decision. Kristoff consoled himself with that, and the memory of Rowen’s strong touch as they had kissed, as he flew back to the Storm Lords’ island. He held Rowen now with one arm, guiding him as he would another student learning to fly by supporting him with summoned tendrils of air. He wished Rowen would fly one day—but he doubted heatcallers could do that.
He was ecstatic that he had finally made his feelings known to Rowen, and he had every hope that they were returned in full. Rowen’s response to his kiss certainly suggested that. But the knowledge of what they faced, the power Rowen wielded, power that could kill him, sent dread into Kristoff’s heart when he thought about it. He didn’t want to have just won Rowen’s affections only to lose him. Getting rid of a heat spell was one thing. But saving Rowen from heat that would consume his body was another.
But first, he had Lorana and Marin to deal with.
Rowen glanced at him before they landed by the governor’s building. Kristoff knew Rowen well enough by now to see the anxiety in the tension in his shoulders and jaw, but Rowen didn’t delay as he followed Kristoff inside. He held his pencil and paper in hand.
Lissa was the first to see them, and she leapt to her feet. “Kristoff! Lorana is looking for you, and… and for you, Rowen.” Rowen nodded at her. “I think she’s in her office.”
“So you found him” was the first thing she said when they entered. Kristoff shut the door behind himself.
Rowen strode forward, showing her the paper he held, with words Kristoff had helped him write, making sure they were spelled correctly and written clearly.
I will not be sacrificed. I will not be sent back to my village. I will live on an island to the southeast. I will not endanger anyone there.
Lorana raised both eyebrows. “And how does he intend to survive?” she asked Kristoff.
Rowen’s jaw tensed, and he wrote quickly. That is my worry, not yours. Kristoff could hear in his mind how determined Rowen would have sounded if he could speak.
“I am the governor of the Storm Lords’ island,” Lorana said. “Where someone who can summon heat spells is staying is a concern of mine.”
You do not control me. I am not a Storm Lord. Rowen held the paper up to her face.
Lorana finally looked at Rowen as if realizing she was addressing an adult man, not a meek child of a student. “Then why are you even bothering to ask me?” she said. “What are you trying to accomplish?”
I want supplies to begin my life there.
“You….” Her gaze flicked to Kristoff, who didn’t say anything. This was still Rowen’s task, not his. He wasn’t going to treat him like a child any longer. “You expect me to agree to give supplies to a man who could summon a heat spell? Who could undo the four hundred years of work we have done here?”
Kristoff could see the frustration on her face as Rowen spelled out his words. Do you want to sacrifice me then?
The room was silent for a moment. It had been done in the past. Kristoff could see the truth of that on the governor’s face, and he remembered Marin’s stories. The Storm Lords’ island, in its own way, was just as ruthless and brutal as the northern tribes. They took children away from their homes, trained them in their powers, and then monitored how their powers were used. If Rowen had failed and had no powers, Lorana would have sent him home, and he almost certainly would have been killed. The governor made decisions about what cities and villages to save first. It was all for a good cause, but maybe just because they had good intentions didn’t make what they did okay.
“No.” The word broke the silence. “We will not sacrifice you if you truly intend to carry out this plan. I imagine living completely alone will be sacrifice enough.”
The words, and the veiled threat, hung in the air.
Kristoff expected Rowen to write something, but he just nodded. It was Kristoff’s turn now. Rowen was letting him make his own choice.
It wasn’t even a choice. “He won’t be alone,” Kristoff said. “I’m going with him.”
“Absolutely not!” Lorana’s hand slammed on her desk. “You think I’d allow our most powerful Storm Lord to leave the island and risk his life by staying with a heatcaller?”
Kristoff had expected this, and he took a breath, willing himself to be calm, like Rowen. “I can dispel whatever heat spell he calls,” he said. “It makes sense for me to be with him. Besides, I’m his mentor.”
“He is not a Storm Lord,” Lorana snapped. “Or did you not read what he just wrote to me?”
“He still deserves a chance,” Kristoff said. “I know the stories. I was here when Marin was explaining it. But he’s not going to just give up, and neither am I. I sensed his power when Marin couldn’t. I’m strong. I can help him. I’m sure of it.”
“What about your work?” Lorana shot back. “As you said, you’re strong. We need you to dispel heat spells, not sit alone in the middle of nowhere with a dangerous man who’s power will kill him soon enough.”
Rowen frowned.
“I can come here once a day and take care of any assignments,” Kristoff said. “I will still work!”
“Fly every day? Give up your life here? Do you realize what a sacrifice that is?” Lorana said.
Rowen’s mouth quirked in something that was half a grimace and half a smile. “Yes, I do,” Kristoff said. “And it’s not much of one.” Not compared to what Rowen had been through.
“I won’t allow it.” Lorana stared him down.
Kristoff looked to Rowen and back. “You can’t stop me.”
Lorana’s eyes widened. Kristoff could have laughed at how shocked she looked that he had stood up to her. He felt like a Darsean suddenly, someone who could be free to travel the world at will, talk back to Storm Lords, with the Storm Lords’ island just another stop on their never-ending journey. It felt nice.
“You’re throwing your life away.” It was a last-ditch attempt.
“No, I’m not. I’m starting a new one. I’m going to learn about heatcallers. This is an opportunity.”
“What if I told you I wouldn’t let you take supplies?”
“What if I told you I refused to do any work dispelling?” That was a bluff. Kristoff couldn’t ignore heat spells. Then again, she was bluffing too—it would be more difficult, but he could always get supplies from Linland or Pearlen.
Lorana’s eyes narrowed, her fists clenching. Her gaze flicked to Rowen and back to Kristoff.
“When you change your mind, I expect you back.”
“I won’t change my mind.” The only thing that would change his mind would be Rowen’s death to heatcaller fever, and he vowed he would help Rowen learn to prevent it.
He was Rowen’s mentor, and he would make sure Rowen was never alone again.
THE TRANSITION was easier than Kristoff thought it would be, or at least the details were. A Darsean captain—the same one whose ship Rowen had unsuccessfully stowed away on—agreed to transport the supplies. It was less than a week before they were ready to leave and begin a new life on an isolated island. Of course, Lorana had told him that morning that she expected him to return and dispel a heat spell in Pearlen a day after getting situated on the island. Work never ceased. The world never stopped ending.
Kristoff sat outside with a drink in his hand, the sky full of stars. His head buzzed with alcohol, and he had trouble focusing on the voices an
d chatter all around him. Lissa, Franken, and of course Talia were there to see him off. Other people milled around too, old friends and acquaintances, and other Storm Lords who had heard about the heatcaller and his mentor.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this, man,” Franken said. He had said that a lot these past few days. “No Storm Lord ever lives away from the island. It’s unheard of.”
“Storm Lords don’t do a lot of things,” Kristoff said, sipping the last of his drink. The dregs of it burned. “Maybe sometimes they should think harder about whether it’s necessary to follow the rules.” He still couldn’t help but think that if it weren’t for Franken, none of this would have happened. Of course, Rowen’s power still would have made itself known eventually.
“I think it’s fascinating,” Lissa said. “If you pull this off, Kristoff, who’s to say other Storm Lords also can’t live away from the island?” Her eyes shone, and Kristoff could guess she was planning on making changes if she ever successfully became governor.
“But it’s not like it’s Linland or Pearlen,” Franken said. “It’s just you and your student, with nothing. How are you going to eat? Or stay entertained? You’ll be living like the northerners, but without even a tribe.”
Kristoff sighed. He had answered these questions a thousand times from other curious people on the island. Right now, getting away from civilization for a while seemed like it would be a boon.
He wished Rowen were here, but Rowen had his own good-byes to say, back in the house Kristoff had thought he would live in for years. Life changed so drastically.
“Life changes so quickly, doesn’t it?” Talia said, his old mentor echoing his thoughts. Her gray hair shimmered in the light from the torches. “Something can be ignored for a while before someone acts on it, and then everything changes.”
He read the insinuation. “I didn’t know,” he said. “I mean, I noticed….” The drink muddled his thoughts. “I worried about his powers, especially after what Marin said in the very beginning, but didn’t know. I had never heard of a heatcaller.”
“Nor had I,” she said. In the distance, a bird called. Odd for a seabird to be active at night. “This experience has educated many of us. I wonder what would have happened to him if you hadn’t found him. Or fought for this chance for him.”
Kristoff frowned, thinking of the desperation in the village he had seen. He didn’t want to know.
“Don’t be afraid, Kristoff. Others may talk.” She cast her gaze to a group of Storm Lords who were muttering, one of them glancing at Kristoff. He recognized one of his old housemates, and his grip on his cup tightened. “But I think this is just another step for you. I still remember the three-year-old who had to readjust his entire life, from a little noble boy in Pearlen to a Storm Lord.”
Kristoff nearly dropped his cup. “I was nobility?”
“You are nobility of Pearlen,” she said, her eyes sad. “It didn’t matter then. It likely doesn’t now. You gave that life up—or rather we forced you to. Saving the world is more important. You were taught that from childhood. But I always wondered about the freedoms, the lives, we gave up to do it.”
“Sacrifices we had to make,” Kristoff said. “That we still make.” He looked up at the clear night sky, no clouds in sight. He wondered if there ever would be if the Storm Lords didn’t bring rain.
“Does Rowen understand that?” Talia asked.
“Believe me,” Kristoff said. “I think he understands sacrifice better than anyone.”
Chapter 34
“GOOD-BYE, ROWEN. I’m sure you’ll do great.” Elise was always kind.
“Fare you well,” Sharon had said. “Perhaps I will visit you one day when I finish my studies.” He hoped he would see Sharon too.
The green canopy of the island stretched overhead as Rowen began to dig. It felt natural to have a shovel in his hand, setting up holes and driving in the stakes that would eventually mount the foundation of a wooden house. He had missed physical labor. And there was no reason to wait to begin making life comfortable for himself and Kristoff.
He still couldn’t believe Kristoff had come with him. His mentor was back on the Storm Lords’ island now, doing the work he needed to do, but would return soon. Rowen planned to have made good progress on what would be their house. Tomorrow he also wanted to make a water basin to collect any rain that might fall, especially if his magic truly did begin to call heat spells.
Rowen’s energy faltered, the shovel biting dirt and stopping, Volkes’s good-bye echoing in his mind.
“Watch your damn magic. If legends are right, you’ll have to or die.”
“Don’t be mean, Volkes!” Elise had shouted.
“It’s true, though.” Volkes rubbed his hand, the hand Rowen had once burned. “I’ve heard the talk. He’s a heatcaller. He’ll bring in heat spells, destroy wherever he ends up, or burn himself alive. It’s how they all end in the stories.”
“That’s not true!” Elise shouted. “He has Kristoff to help! Don’t you, Rowen?”
Rowen wiped his forehead, lifting the shovel again. He had Kristoff. That made all the difference. He had to trust his mentor. His face reddened when he thought of the kiss they had shared before they had gone back to the island to determine their future, together.
As he thought it, a gust of wind ruffled his hair, sending the leaves of the trees around him rustling. A spattering of rain hit his forehead, and a smile crept over his face as Kristoff landed a few feet away.
“Whoa.” Kristoff put a hand on one of the posts Rowen had set. “You did all this already?”
Rowen nodded, leaning the shovel against a tree and standing tall. He moved a hand out, indicating the four corners.
“That’ll be a big house,” Kristoff said. He stepped closer. “You know how to build?”
Rowen shrugged, then nodded. He knew the basics. For now, the cave would do. They had years, after all.
“I’m glad.” Kristoff put an arm around him, and Rowen returned the gesture. They hadn’t had a chance to be like this since that first kiss, too busy with preparations. Now they were alone, starting new lives, not exhausted from good-byes and flights, and Rowen’s heart pounded. His fantasies since meeting Kristoff replayed in his mind, but this was reality, not fantasy, and he didn’t know what to do. Kristoff wasn’t Volkes, to simply take what he wanted, and the equality made it both more exciting and more confusing.
“I’ll have to leave soon to dispel a heat spell,” Kristoff said, and disappointment tightened Rowen’s chest. “But for now I have time.”
Kristoff stroked Rowen’s face, but so lightly Rowen could barely feel it, the merest guidance. Rowen turned his head, and Kristoff’s lips met his. Disappointment melted away.
Kristoff broke the kiss after a few moments. “Rowen….” His voice was breathy. “If we do this, I’m not your mentor. I’m just… a partner. I don’t want you to think you owe me or anything like that. I’m here by choice, with you, not by obligation. I just… I just want to make sure this is okay.”
Rowen tilted his head. Kristoff’s brow was furrowed, his eyes big and worried. Rowen almost laughed. He was so different from Volkes, and Rowen loved it.
For now, he could lead. Rowen caught Kristoff’s lips again, deepening the kiss, and moved his hands over the man’s shoulders and down to his hips.
“Oh, Rowen,” Kristoff breathed when Rowen’s hands moved lower. “I-I have to work. There’s a heat spell in Pearlen….”
Rowen kept stroking him, moving his hands down with purpose, feeling the other man’s rising bulge beneath his hands. He quirked his lips into a pleased smile.
Kristoff’s face grew red, and he let out a shuddering breath. “I want to….” He swallowed. “To go further, Rowen. Is that okay?”
A grin stole over Rowen’s face, and he answered by kissing Kristoff again. He pressed against Kristoff’s body, the firmness of it clearing Rowen’s mind even as he called up his first memory of Kristoff, of the beautiful m
an with blue eyes and brown hair, reaching for him from within a storm.
Now that man was his.
Kristoff’s lips were hot and soft, and when he opened his mouth, it was tentative, light. But heat soon took over. Their breathing mingled, the sound of it the only thing Rowen could hear. He nibbled on Kristoff’s lips, then licked them, guiding Kristoff to do the same. Soon Rowen let Kristoff explore his mouth with his tongue, relishing the feeling. Kristoff’s hands found their way back around Rowen’s waist, the careful touch tantalizing, and Rowen repaid the favor with firm strokes over Kristoff’s thighs and his taut rear. Muscles tightened beneath his hands, sending Kristoff’s erection brushing against Rowen’s.
“Oh, Rowen,” Kristoff said, breaking the kiss, his breath rushing over Rowen’s shoulders. “I’ve wanted you for a while. I want you right now.” His face reddened when he said it, and he dropped his gaze.
Rowen took Kristoff’s hand, holding it up and looking into his eyes. Rowen nodded. He wanted the same, had wanted the same for a long time, and he hoped Kristoff understood. Ideas flitted through his mind. Volkes had shown him some things, but with Kristoff, he wanted things to be different. Everything they did, they would do together.
He pulled Kristoff closer, taking his hand and slowly licking Kristoff’s fingers, then sucked on one, keeping his gaze fixed on the other man. Then he cast his eyes down and cupped Kristoff’s bulge.
Kristoff’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “Are you sure…. Yes, Rowen.”
Rowen let his mouth water as he knelt down on the soft ground, so different from the harsh hot sand he had grown up with. With quick fingers, he unlaced the ties on Kristoff’s pants, revealing his prize.
“Rowen….” Kristoff moaned as Rowen touched his erection, investigating it with his fingers. It was beautiful, long and thick. It would feel good in his mouth.
He licked it first, then put his mouth around it, Kristoff’s gasps music to his ears. Volkes had liked this too, but he would make sure Kristoff liked it even more.
The Storm Lords Page 25