Innocent or not, Sylvie hated the way he felt the need to remind her. She wanted him to look at her like he did the others. Like a woman, of strength, valor, honor - yet with the look in his eyes now, he only saw her as weak.
She pulled away, the strike of the blow making her recoil from him.Would he ever see her as more than the girl he had grown up with?
Haldor reached out, halting her with a gentle touch on her arm. "I can see my words upset you," he said, taking her hand in his. "I only want to keep you safe."
And just like that, her stupid, stupid heart warmed again.
She nodded, pulling her hand away as the gap widened between them. Relinquishing his hold, he retreated, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
"Just return before dawn," he urged with a wink. “And don’t get caught.”
She watched him disappear into the crowd once more, his hand now extended to the fair - haired woman, his smile deepening into a mischievous grin.
A pang of jealousy surged within her, and she cursed herself for it. Turning, she went to search out Tara amongst the sea of revelers, her expression grim, self inflicted curses still drying on her tongue.
Yet, Tara was nowhere to be found.
Instead, she was met with something, or someone else entirely.
An energy, sudden and intense, traced the crown of her head, like an unseen breath against her skin, snapping her from her thoughts. Her muscles instantly tensed, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end, as every instinct screamed that someone, or something, lingered, watching her.
In a breath, fingers whispered along her own, a featherlight touch so brief she almost questioned if it was real. The world around her seemed to still, the rush of adrenaline sharpening her senses. Heart pounding, she turned and stared into unknown eyes - deep, dark, and unreadable. They pierced through the shadows, pinning her in place,instantly stripping the air from her lungs. His eyes engulfed hers - twin pools of molten fire that cut straight through her defenses. Her mind spun, but every rational thought had evaporated under the weight of his gaze - drawing her in, pulling her closer.
His shadow swallowed her whole, his towering frame draped in worn leather and fur that clung to a body carved by battle and blood. Muscles rippled as he moved, arms bare and covered in runes that faintly glowed in the dim light. At first, she thought it was a trick of the flickering fire not far away, but they seemed to pulse - alive, shifting like glimmering shadows on his skin.
Sylvie’s mind screamed at her to move, to say something, but her body betrayed her, rooted to the spot by the strange pull of his presence. Every nerve in her body went taut, his energy seeming to penetrate, burrowing beneath the surface, stirring something hidden deep inside - something she didn’t even know was there.
What was this sort of magic?
His eyes glimmered as something enwrapped her senses - the smell of forest, fresh wind, and brine filling her nostrils.
Then, a rush of energy.
A roaring wave of heady magic thrummed through her body - her veins.
She was on fire, flames weaving through her blood, her organs, her soul itself - calling, waking, harboring sudden life.
Her eyes flew open wide, horror and surprise tangling her features.
She looked down at his hand, five rough fingers still curled around hers, and she was a captive to them completely. A feeling stirred in her depths, awakening something old, ancient - forgotten. Like a raw beating heart pulled from the chest in one swift motion - she sat aching and vulnerable in the grip of his hand.
She pulled back, anxious to rip it from his grip, yet he held fast. Her lips parted as she sucked in a mangled breath.
“Let go!” She ordered, but the command stopped dead on her lips.
“Sylvie.” His voice rumbled like distant thunder, barely audible over the laughter and the drums. Yet it reached her, and it settled deep in her chest, vibrating through her bones like a sacred song. Her name on his lips sounded like every sweetness, every perfect and wonderful thing - like music voiced from the gods lips.“Cuimhnigh.”
Sylvie’s breath faltered. The word sounded foreign, strange, and yet - somehow she knew its meaning.
Remember.
She glanced down - his hand still held hers, firm and unyielding, a fervent tether between them.
“Who are you?” she demanded. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she searched his face, looking for an answer in those strange, fire - filled eyes. But he only stared back, silent.
Something had shifted in his expression - a shadow that snuffed out the light she thought she’d glimpsed there. His jaw tightened, shoulders drawing back, as if she had rendered him a blow.
“Let me go!” she snapped, summoning a sharp edge to her voice, trying to regain control of the moment, of herself. Her mind raced -if he knew her eye, he could know everything.