Page 43 of Crown of Iron
I’m pretty sure I siphoned his powers. My actions almost left him dead in a matter of minutes. It's only a matter of time before I crave more of the Statera's gift, and I take from another. How can I stay here? How can I rule Lucent when I'm a Stigian by all definitions? And how the hell did I instinctively know how to siphon?
Kyron grunts and lifts from the mattress, and everyone jumps to their feet.
“It's okay. Relax. You're in excellent hands,” Terro says, guiding Kyron's shoulder back to the bed.
“Did—”
“We're all here. Casualties were few and the injured are being cared for,” Greer explains.
The worry for his soldiers visibly lifts from Kyron. His body goes slack, and the fear written on his face subsides. With a gravelly voice, he says, “Did you see what happened? I knew she…”
Greer widens her eyes and darts them in my direction, and Kyron follows her gaze. He looks me over, and I drop my gaze to stare at my boots. I make myself as small as possible, hiding any injuries I received during the fight. The last thing I need to do is give him a reason to fret over me.
“I'll come back in a bit,” I say, heading for the doorway. I don't deserve to be here with the people who care for his well-being, the ones who would never harm him. And if I'm being honest, I can't handle seeing the disgust on his battered face when he remembers what happened.
“No.” I stop mid-step and Kyron continues, “Will everyone give us a moment?”
As each of his officers passes, they spare me a glance. Their pity for me and my stupidity written on their faces.
Ulric gently pats me on my tender arm. “Relax, nanny goat. All will work out for the best.”
I pray his words are true, but when I'm left alone, standing at thefoot of Kyron’s bed, I can't bring myself to look at him. It’s impossible to see how he can forgive me. I took something that wasn't mine to take and almost killed him.
“Come sit, please.” Kyron points to the chair Greer sat in.
I hesitate, staring at the tattoo on his bicep. It’s the Lucent moon and sun housed inside a Stigian shield. Two conflicting kingdoms who have only known peace when they’re one. The ink is the symbol of what many hope is my future reign. It's another thing my recklessness has screwed up.
Shaking my head, I ease into the seat next to the bed.
We take a moment to look each other over. I examine the cut over his eye and the dark purple bruise in the center of his chest. Kyron takes in the scratches on my cheeks and along my arms. I shift under his gaze while he studies every inch of me as if I'm under a magnifying glass. It’s unnerving, more intimate than a touch.
I cross my legs and wrap my arms around my stomach. “I'm so sorry, Kyron.”
“Don't apologize. You did what had to be done. Did you know you could do that?”
I vehemently shake my head. “No! I've heard rumors about siphoning, but I've never tried it, or seen it done.”
Kyron hooks a finger under my chin. I jerk at his touch, terrified his power will ignite the cravings, but it greets me with a warmhelloas it brushes over my skin. He holds firm to my chin and traces his thumb under my lip, raising my gaze to his.
“Sun rays shining through sea glass,” he says.
“What?”
“You didn't siphon my gift. Your eyes are still the color of sun rays shining through sea glass.”
My knees wobble, wanting to give out so I can melt into the floor. General Kyron LeFur has spent enough time thinking about my eye color that he has memorized a poetic description for them. Statera help me.
The stoke of his thumb grows bolder, swiping over my bottom lip. “Your fear was just replaced with?—"
“Please don't read my emotions right now. I'm a complete mess.”
“So am I,” he whispers.
He doesn't understand the turmoil I'm in, how difficult it is to sit next to him. I push at his gift, but it lingers on my skin with every brushof his fingertips. He needs to know what he is doing is dangerous. At any moment I could lose control again. And this time, there is no one here to save him.
“I took your power and now I crave to feel it again,” I confess.
He releases my face and balls the sheet at his hip in a fist. I immediately miss his touch, but finally, he gets it.
