Page 20 of Of Blooming Embers
I rubbed my lips together and lifted my chin. “We’ll find them together.”
His brow crumpled. “Seryn …”
“It’s too late, Gavrel. I have my memories now. I’m tired of drifting through life … tired of pretending that we can’t fight back. We’ll find Kaden, and then we’ll figure out how to save our realm.” I breathed in, my chest expanding. “I’m not weak.” My words rushed out on an exhale.
If I said it enough, I’d start to believe it.
Gavrel paused and turned to me, water slapping at his knees irritably with the sudden movement. My eyes were glued to his thickly muscled thighs as his breeches clung to the skin.
I braced myself for words of dissuasion. For him to order me to stay tucked away somewhere. Or maybe he thought everyone else would be safer if I hid so my abilities didn’t tear them apart. Bitterness coated my tongue.
“Stop.” He waited until I brought my eyes to his. “I can see your mind spinning. Weak is a word I’d never associate with you.”
I scoffed, turning my face to the side. A heavy sense of disbelief and embarrassment dug into me. My boots sank deeper into the muck. Perhaps I was turning into a doombark.
Wetness splattered against my legs, the droplets cooling my heated, leather-clad skin for a moment before Gavrel gently cupped my chin. I resisted his touch, my teeth clenching and turning my chin to stone.
Gavrel’s thumb brushed over the hollow of my cheek. The tensionin my shoulders released, and I allowed him to turn my face back to his. His features softened, and he leaned forward a bit.
Surely, he could feel my pulse skitter beneath his fingertips. Gavrel’s eyes searched mine, and I drowned within their emerald depths.
“You’re one of the fiercest people I’ve ever met. You’ll tear every realm apart to save Midst Fall and those you love … to find Kaden.” He rubbed his lips together. “And you’ll succeed, Asteria.” The name still did something to me, warmth buzzing under my skin.
He studied every angle and curve of my expression, one surely of hesitant acceptance. Until finally, he pulled away. I wanted to drag his hand back, but I dug my fingernails into my belt instead. Straightening, he sighed wearily.
In silence, we moved through the swamp, prodding at the spaces ahead before stepping, avoiding hidden wells beneath the thigh-high water.
Gavrel took my hand, guiding us around sinkholes and pushing decrepit, rotting logs out of the way with his stick. The sound of toads and insects, shifting foliage, and sluggish ripples of liquid serenaded us as we went, only to be interrupted by the occasional slap of my hand as I swatted away the flying insects biting every inch of my exposed skin.
Once more, he jabbed into the water, his chest expanding with a deep inhale as he calmly brushed a mosquito from his cheek. “Helos shouldn’t be far now.”
Carefully, I stepped beside him, unsettling a chunk of bark as it coasted across our path. Watching, Gavrel and I paused. Atop the graying wood, a tiny, brown toad croaked angrily before leaping into the water with a plop. I smirked, a rush of camaraderie washing over me.
“Almost accurate. If you weren’t heading in the wrong direction.” We flinched at the haughty tone to our right. Within our next breaths, we brandished our weapons as we spun toward the stranger.
My branch flew from my fingers, sinking into an unseen hole.With the swamp water waist-high, my body wobbled as I tried to regain my balance and not topple over.
Gavrel grabbed my rucksack, and I steadied myself while gawking at the man’s very shirtless, very toned torso. My jaw dropped along with my hands.
His face was just as chiseled as his muscles, albeit coated in a thin layer of a greenish-tinged sap like the rest of him. The color highlighted his brownish-red hair, its wavy, russet strands skimmed the broad expanse of his shoulders.
Whatever the substance was, it didn’t hide the various linear scars marring his upper body, including a jagged line that ran diagonally from his left temple, through his straight, thick brow, to the apple of his high, angular cheekbone. By the look of it, he was lucky to have his eye.
I breathed in, no longer smelling the acrid swamp aromas. Either I was now used to it, or I had lost my senses. The man wasdangerouslyappealing.
He moved forward, the water rippling around his clingy, dark breeches.
“Another step would be a grave mistake,” Gavrel snarled, positioning himself in front of me and raising his broadsword a fraction.
I huffed, my slight lapse in attention broken. I remembered to glare at the stranger, but couldn’t muster any fear despite his arrogant display of his body and approach.
A nearly imperceptible smirk tweaked his mouth. Flaring around his tall, athletic form, a midnight-colored aura licked at his skin like flames.
Gavrel widened his stance. My power was tucked away, and the Druik was entirely unconcerned.He’s flaunting his ember on purpose. One of my eyebrows rose at his boldness.
“Now, now. No need for bloodshed. These waters have claimed enough bodies,” he stated in a droll tone.
He held up one hand, making a come-hither gesture before turning to the side. Easily as tall as him, he held an intricately carvedwooden staff. It was likely more a weapon than a walking stick. “I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you—Seryn, is it?—but I’d be lying.”
