Page 40 of Above Cursed Winds

“Does the lady doubt me?” Playfulness reflected in his tone. “You wound me deeply, Z.”

While they walked toward the front door, she stole one last look back to where Nero and Myko were playing. A magnificent man, through and through, their sovereign had stepped into the role of Myko’s mentor flawlessly. But Nero couldn’t always be there, and Myko knew that. He’d have to get used to letting go of another male figure soon, and while she knew he had the maturity for it, her heart still broke.

She felt the intensity of Jeremiah’s gaze as though it were a tangible weight, and when she risked a glance of her own, she found herself enthralled.

The Elemental’s silky red strands hung around his sculpted features. Though he was devastatingly handsome no matter how he styled his hair, seeing it loose made Zia want to run her fingers through it.

On impulse, she did.

She tucked a lock behind his ear, letting their softness tickle her fingertips. Her heart beat chaotically in her chest, and a yearning for something deeper seemed to ignite alongside it.

“I’ll tie it back.”

Intimate moment over, Jeremiah chuckled and banded his loose hair together. Then, as one, they stepped outside. Zia was wholly surprised when none of the strong gusts of wind or pelting rain blasted her. The Elemental hadn’t been bragging, after all.

He didn’t address the effort it took to sustain the bubble of calm, but continued as if nothing magical was happening. “The only reason I even grew my hair long in the first place was because Rukia really hates it. It was fun to yank her chain. But then I realized I enjoyed it longer, and I couldn’t bear to part with it. Plus, long hair is quite the lady-killer.”

“From my work with the Accords, I know Rukia is Gideon’s second, but I’ve never met her. How long have you known her?”

“Three centuries or so.” Jeremiah shrugged in a forced casual way, then motioned to the sky. “Shall we, my feathered beauty?”

Zia’s wings breathed into existence, the weight substantial against her back. She flared them wide, stretching the ligaments and tendons in preparation for the vertical takeoff.

The feathers at the base of her wings were a pure, glistening ivory that gleamed like crushed diamonds. As the feathers grew longer, they gradually transitioned into a deep indigo at the tips of her wings. It created an ombre shadow effect, a perfect mirror to the colors of her eyes.

She stifled a smile as she glanced at Jeremiah.

The Elemental was staring, stunned, at the impressive breadth of her wingspan. One hand remained raised as though he attempted to reach for her but had thought better of it. Zia flared out a wing in blatant offering.

“Want to touch, Jeremiah?”

Eyes dancing, he reached out a hand again and his fingers gently connected with the firm feathers along the arch.

“Amazing, Z.”

He whispered it like a prayer. An aggressive whistle of wind was the only thing that eventually captured his attention away from her wings.

“We should probably go before your sovereign has my hide.”

Leaping into the air, she joined him with several powerful strokes, her eyes immediately looking around for damage. Instead, she caught a strange shimmer in the air around them. When she turned to ask Jeremiah about it, she was startled to find him gone, even when his psychic signature hovered next to her.

“Jeremiah?”

“Here, Z.” The cheerful tone of his voice was undeniable. “I made us invisible.”

Zia immediately glanced down at her body, confirming the eerie effect had rendered her completely invisible to the naked eye. “Handy party trick number two. Myko would be impressed.”

He waited for a beat before he asked, “How long will it be before he can control his gift?”

“It could be a while. His talent is unique, and that isn’t always a good thing. It means there’s nobody he can directly relate to or much precedent on how to handle it and what we can expect.” She shook her head. “It’s unfortunately different enough from mine that the tricks I used don’t apply to him. Someone who has the gift of Vision might be able to help him, but no one in our clan does.”

“I’m sorry.” Jeremiah’s voice was rueful. “I hope it’ll get better as he grows up.”

“It will. Eventually.” The word was a dagger to her heart. “With Raeth children, part of the maturation process is learning to control their abilities while they’re still young. If we were to block off that part of him or lock it away, he’d never learn how to regulate it.”

“That makes for a difficult childhood.”

“Those born of destruction rarely have it easy.”

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