Page 25 of The Discovered
His eyes flew open. I considered making the move myself to close the gap between us, but no sooner had the thought crossed my mind had Daelon grabbed my face in his hands, forcefully meeting my lips. The kiss was urgent and desperate, like we had waited a thousand years to touch each other and would wait a thousand more to do it again.
Daelon pushed me to the floor in one swift movement, careful to keep a hand on the back of my head as I fell back onto the rug. He was on top of me exactly as in my dream. His lips moved against mine as his other hand gently grasped my neck. He lightly tugged at my bottom lip with his teeth. I tangled my fingers through his dark waves of hair and stroked the side of his face. It was smooth aside from the light stubble along his sharp jaw.
He groaned, moving his hand off my throat and pushing up to hover over me. Both of us gasped for air. “We can’t do this, Áine.” His eyes told a different story, staring at my body greedily. “Ican’t,” he repeated, more to himself than me.
“Why not?” I furrowed my brows, confused and frustrated in more ways than one.
Daelon shook his head and looked away. He started to rise, and I grabbed his wrist, staring him down until he met my eyes. He looked at my hold on his arm and then to my eyes, anger flashing in his.Surely that wasn’t directed at me?
“Stop,” he growled, his features returning to their natural state of perfect control and display of strength.
I let go, feeling my own anger rise within me—with a splash of shock and embarrassment thrown in for good measure. Had I misread this entire situation? Did he only kiss me because he knew I wanted it?
I rolled out from under him.
“Áine.”
Pushing myself up, I glared at a weary looking Daelon. His features softened as I did, his eyes pleading. I clenched my fists, my heartbeat loud and fast as blood rushed to my head.
“Wait, let me—”
“No,” I said, mirroring his tone from before. I wanted to yell at him. I wanted to unleash the power that now roared in my ears like the crashing waves of a stormy ocean. I wanted to make him feel the way he had just made me feel. I wanted him to kiss me again.
In a burst of whooshing air, the fire snuffed out completely, leaving only smoke in its wake. The already overcast sky grew darker, and wind whistled and bore down against the windows. The familiar rise of power swelled within me, looking frantically for release. I had to close my eyes briefly to gain back control.
When I opened them, Daelon was in front of me, placing his hands on my shoulders. I backed away and shrugged him off.
“Calm down and just listen to me for a moment,” he begged, but his eyes showed irritation.
“Daelon, with all due respect, you can fuck right off,” I snapped. The last remnants of my Irish accent unleashed out of anger, reminding me of my mothers and our village among the hills.
Now he looked furious, which in turn only made me more enraged, and after a second of silence I turned on my heel and escaped to my room. I didn’t have to physically close the door behind me as it slammed shut at the mere thought. My anger was like its own poltergeist.
I kicked off my shoes and fell back on my bed. My breathing was erratic and my mind a muddled mess. Maybe Daelon was right. That would’ve been a huge mistake. I couldn’t tell if I wanted to laugh or cry, but I knew I needed some space to think.
Chapter7
Iwoke the next morning famished. I held my breath as I entered the kitchen, sighing in relief when Daelon was nowhere to be seen. He hadn’t tried to talk to me since I cursed at him yesterday evening, an outburst that sober and less angry me almost regretted. Another part of me didn’t regret it though, and I held onto that part for dear life to avoid the feelings of shame and embarrassment his actions had caused. It was far better to be angry than ashamed. Or at least itfeltbetter.
After whipping up some coffee, I quickly retreated to my room to grab my faux leather jacket to pair with a red dress with loose long sleeves and a plunging neckline. Black suede ankle boots completed the outfit.
I tiptoed around the house, unwilling to face Daelon. I wasn’t sure when Iwouldbe ready, but it seemed he wasn’t leaping at the opportunity to see me either. The house was quiet, even as I passed by his room.
I slipped out the door into the crisp autumn air, and then I descended the winding steps. I wasn’t sure where I was going. I just knew I needed to be among the trees and search for some guidance in the calm. I felt more grounded and more connected to my power in the wilderness, and I wondered idly if that was part of the reason my mothers sent me to New York City, where even the greenspaces were unsatisfyingly disconnected and energetically barren. If the goal was to disconnect me completely from my witch nature, the location made perfect sense.
I ditched the beaten path, wandering for a while among the tall grass, browning wildflowers, and looming pines. I basked in the rush of wind as it whipped around me in welcome, blowing my hair and dress in every direction. Pleasurable chills swept over my skin, and a familiar energy tugged at my consciousness. I fell to my knees, fresh tears overflowing and streaming down my face. I felt my mothers. I felt their mothers. I felt all mothers. This current of power wrapped around me like a quilt, perfectly stitched from love and devotion.
On my bare knees, now scraped and dirty, I shifted into a crossed-leg position and brought myself into a trance-like state as Daelon had helped me into many times before. I stifled the pang of disappointment at the thought of my moody protector and trainer.
I plunged deeper into my psyche, accepting help from the motherly forces surrounding me, and soon I was in my clear, electric blue ocean with multicolored, iridescent grains of sand. I basked in the multitudinous waters, containing the depths of all natural flows. I called out for guidance, whispering this intent to the waves.
I dove under the surface, reminding myself that I could breathe underwater here. This was merely a psychic metaphor to help make sense of the infinite; I wouldn’t drown unless I believed I could. I heard Momma Celeste’s voice.
Hello, sweet girl.
You’re not real, I thought, but here, thoughts were as good as spoken word. As I treaded, their faces appeared in front of me like a hazy mirage.
We never meant to make you ashamed of who you are, Áine. We just needed time until we could figure out a way to protect you from those who wished you harm. But you grew stronger and more unpredictable sooner than we expected.
