Page 39 of What Blooms from Death

“Do Ilooklike I know what’s going on?” I asked.

His eyes darted between me and the spinning cloud of dark energy. It tumbled and roared, little bursts of silvery-black occasionally exploding around it, but nothing else lashed out at us for the moment. In fact, it seemed to be retreatingagain, pacing back and forth at a safer distance—almost like an intelligent predator sizing up its prey.

Aleksander kept one eye on it as he knelt beside Elias’s remains, lifting a pile of dust and bone fragments into his palm and letting it sift through his fingers. For a fraction of a moment, his expression looked pained. Distraught, even.

So apparently, he had other emotions aside from haughty disdain.

Who knew?

Guilt clenched my stomach as I took an uncertain step toward him. If only I’d been quick enough to catch Elias. Tostophim, somehow…

“It happened so fast,” I said, quietly.

The Light King rose slowly back to his feet. He shifted his weight from one side to the other, as if trying to redistribute the burden of this latest death upon his shoulders.

“I’m sorry. I—”

“It’s over.” He pointed to the cyclone, which was building in intensity, its dark clouds rolling dangerously close once more. “Focus on that.”

I snapped my attention back to it. It roared louder in the same instant, a second strike of dark ribbons quickly following the sound; I lost my balance trying to avoid them.

Aleksander caught me against his chest, wrapping an arm around my waist to steady us both. And it happened again: His touch, his nearness causing a strange surge in my chest, a wild stirring of magic between us…

I ripped free of his hold, irritably trying to keep any sign of my power from erupting upon my skin—again. I didn’t need another distraction right now. Didn’t need the questions screaming through my head, almost as loud as the threat before us—

Why does he have this effect on me?

Why does this keep happening?

Aleksander kept his focus on the spinning storm, ignoring whatever had just passed between us as he calmly said, “I watched shadows like this erupt all around you that night at Rose Point.”

“...So?”

“So maybe do somethingabouttheseshadows?”

“It’s not the same. I can’t control every strand of darkness in the world any more thanyoucan control every sliver of light.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Could you kindly do us a favor andtry?”

The twisting mass roared again, sections of it darkening and rippling in a manner that could only be described as threatening. Like it was responding to the possibility of metryinganything against it. And again, I had the strange feeling that it was…alive.

I hurriedly took a few more steps back, trying to gain perspective. A surge of cold wind washed over me with my next breath—Phantom, returning from whatever mischief he’d been entertaining himself with. He pressed against my leg, holding me in place, his back providing a solid foundation for me to brace my hand upon.

(I leave you alone for twenty minutes, and this is what I come back to?)

“Spare me your judgment for once,” I muttered, sidestepping a thin, wayward streak of shadow as it thrashed toward my shoulder.

Not that I would never admit it to Aleksander, but the energy lashing toward me didfeel very…familiar. Though not in a way I could readily explain. Andwhether or not it was the same as what I’d channeled on the night of his demise, I couldn’t say for certain; I’d never recreated those frightening, devastating claws of darkness, after all.

At least, not on purpose.

But now, memories from the night of my father’s murder were flooding my mind, making it impossible to concentrate fully on anything—much lesscontrol. I hadn’t controlled anything that night. I’d run away from it all.

In so many ways, I’d been trying to run away ever since.

Phantom whined, nudging my wrist and making my bracelets clatter together, as if to remind me they were there.

I tapped the various beads and bands, considering my options.

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