Page 25 of Above Cursed Winds

“Easier to move an eight-year-old than an infant.” She lifted a shoulder noncommittally, glancing at the blankets once more. “Our previous home was finished and comfortable, ready to live in. We had people who needed it more than we did.”

“Awfully nice of you.”

She expected to find sarcasm in those jaded eyes, and she found nothing but truth. Thrown off kilter by his honesty once more, Zia cleared her throat. “Anyway, only my bathroom on the second floor works. The others don’t have running water yet.”

“Good to know.”

“Well, I guess that isn’t true.” She shrugged. “Myko’s toilet works, too, I guess.”

Jeremiah’s little chuckle sounded across from her. “Also, good to know.”

Awkward silence followed, Zia shifting uneasily while she continued to clutch the blankets. Focusing anywhere but him, she cleared her throat once more into the silence between them.

She was making this unnecessarily weird and awkward. Anyone in her position would’ve done the same. Besides, she was Nero’s second, and she had a responsibility to see to Jeremiah’s hospitality. Her Sovereign would’ve been aghast if she made the man who was working to save them all sleep under the stars.

It didn’t hurt that her guest was the spitting image of Adonis himself, every sculpted line of his face a study in perfection. His proximity made her flush, her treacherous heart pounding a staccato song that betrayed just what she’d felt about his closeness.

While she’d been having an internal meltdown, Jeremiah had approached, gently reaching out for the blankets she’d clutched like a lifeline.

“Thank you.”

“Sure,” came her response, finally loosening her death grip on the bedding and holding it out to him.

When he took it from her, the warmth of his hand gingerly passed over hers, and a shock of sensation rioted through her nerves. Carefully, she schooled the reaction from her features.

The Elemental, having betrayed no similar sensation, gave her an appreciative nod. And then he asked, “When is his father coming home?”

“His father doesn’t live here.”

Based on the tone of her voice, it would be apparent to the Elemental that they weren’t together. A thousand theories appeared the simmer in Jeremiah’s gaze, but instead, he asked a question she had known was coming.

“What is Myko’s ability?”

Zia’s teeth worried over her lip, biting deeply at the quiet question. “We don’t have a name for it yet; no other Raeth has had the gift in remembered history. The closest we can identify is that it’s a mix between Vision and Psyche—he inadvertently pulls your worst fears from your subconscious and brings them to light in a vision.”

Her face fell, the anguish shadowing her features. “He’s born of destruction, like his father. While everyone is pleasant around him, they intentionally avoid touching him or hanging around. Most families won’t let their kids play with him because he might scare them. For a youngling, that’s damaging, and his ability has only grown since he’s started maturing.” A rueful shake of her head. “He’s lonely.”

Jeremiah’s expression mirrored hers. “That’s awful.”

She could only nod in agreement as he set down the blankets on the couch, his eyes spearing around the room for a moment before Zia decided to speak what was on her mind.

“I meant it before, during our walk. Thank you.”

Frowning, Jeremiah’s attention returned to her. “For what?”

“For not shying away from him. Treating him normally. It makes him so happy.” Zia looked him square in the eye, making it known just how much she appreciated what he’d done. “Whatever your fear is, whatever he showed you, thank you for working through it enough that you didn’t run away.”

“I’ve already lived it,” came his barely audible response. “Nothing could be worse than that.”

Chapter Twelve

For the first time in what felt like ages, Jeremiah slept well. Beneath the downy soft comforter, in the plush confines of Zia’s living room couch, he’d truly surrendered himself to sleep.

An entire herd of elephants woke him up the following morning—or perhaps one excitable child rushing down the stairs.

“Jeremiah! Jeremiah! Are you awake?”

Myko’s voice was the only precursor to the youngling’s hands shaking him awake.

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