Page 26 of Ash and Feather

“You’re stronger when I’m closer to you,” I said. “Admit it. Do you think I haven’t noticed the way our magic reacts and builds when we’re near to each other? Sometimes it’s enough to take my breath away. Maybe it’s not as overwhelming foryou, but you must feel some sort of shift, too.”

He relented with a sigh. “Yes. But that’s a very simple—too simple—explanation of what’s happening between us. There are too many unknowns. You need to get a firm grip on your own power in a safer, less volatile environment.”

“Arethere any safe, less volatile environments for me, at the moment? If so, I’d absolutely love to hear about them.”

A muscle in his jaw ticked.

I’d made a point he couldn’t refute.

Nevertheless, he didn’t give in. “You’re right—Idofeel a shift in my magic when you’re close. Sometimes it feels like I’m drawing more in, my power feeding from yours because you haven’t yet learned how to hold your own. Don’t you see how this could be dangerous? Destabilizing? I won’t risk finding ourselves in a desperate situation where I end up taking from you and—”

“You aren’t taking anything, you idiot. I’m freely offering it. No matter what happens, we’re supposed to face things together, right? And there’s more to my power than the fire you gave me. Remember? You said that right after I ascended.”

He didn’t take those words back, but his gaze remained troubled.

“Either way,” I continued, “we can’t avoid these complications forever. We have to figure out how to make sense of these new versions of ourselves.”

For a long moment, he regarded me with the same practiced, stony expression he’d used when I’d mentioned his brother.

Then, without answering me, he straightened back to his full height and turned all his attention to the fire he’d built.

“I already made up my mind earlier,” I pressed, stepping toward him. My words were sharp-edged, honed by the frustration building inside me. “I’m going to work harder to control my divine powers so youcan’tinadvertently take them, and so nothing else can go wrong in that regard. I’ll focus on my ability to transport first. I’ll prove to you that I can use magic to get myself out of danger, same as you. Will that make you feel better?”

He slowly drew his gaze back to mine, turning to meet me as I approached.

He still didn’t speak.

I swallowed down more sharp words, trying to ignore the painful way they carved and settled into my stomach.

The fire burned brighter the closer I came to him. Brighter as I exhaled as much of my frustration as I could, and brighter still as I wrapped my arms around him and rested my head against his chest, watching the flames dance to the rhythm of his breathing.

His body was stiff at first, each muscle clenched impossibly tight. But the longer I held him, the more he relaxed against me.

Finally, his hands moved, abandoning the rigid grip he had on my hips. He circled his arms around my waist instead. Pulled me against him. Buried his face in my hair, breathing in my scent, his hands moving over my body and tracing the curvesand lines of me as though he was trying to convince himself that I was solid. That I was real and safe andhere.

I stretched up and pressed my lips to his, so he could taste the realness of the moment as well as feel it.

He kissed me back, fiercely, fingers threading through my hair, clenching hard enough to draw a small gasp from my mouth.

His hold relaxed at the sound, but not by much. He was holding on just as he’d held my hand earlier—as though he was worried he might float away without me to anchor him down.

Even when he ended the kiss, he stayed close, his fingers still tangled in my hair.

I wondered again at what he’d seen and experienced while I’d slept. I didn’t ask this time, but he soon offered up more on his own, his voice barely audible even though his lips were close enough to brush my ear when he spoke.

“I had a vision earlier,” he said, “while I was trying to wash up. In it I…I was carrying you through the halls of my former palace. You were bleeding. I’d moved too slow. I…” His hold on me tightened even more as he trailed off.

My heart skipped several beats as I realized what had caused him to dig so deeply into his skin: He’d been trying to get my blood off his arms. My invisible blood.

“It wasn’t real,” I whispered, leaning back so I could see his face. I brushed strands of damp hair from his eyes, willing my fingers not to shake. His expression was frightening again—distant and almost…panicked.

I’d never seen him like this.

I did my best not to let my fear show, closing my eyes and pressing my lips to his again, trying to say with my kiss what I couldn’t manage with words.

He kissed me back, but with less force than before. Less awareness.

“It wasn’t real,” I whispered again.

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