Page 16 of Dawn to Dusk
She froze, staring at me like I would grow another head if she dared to blink. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Thank you,” I suggested gently.
She smiled at me. Not that tolerant smile I see so often, but the same one she gave Calida. It made my insides act strange and made me want to find ways to earn that smile more often. “Thank you.”
The furniture in the room was sparse: a bed, a table on the side with some witchy looking stuff on it, and bookshelf after bookshelf lining the walls. She sat on her bed propped up against the headboard, and it reminded me of a child waiting for story time. I took my shoes off and joined her.
I read the notes, even as her scent distracted me. Most sol witches smelled like ash, but she always smelled like sunshine on a June day without a cloud in the sky. It was why I nicknamed her Sunshine all those years ago. In a crowd of thousands of people, I could always pick her out. Before things between us got so personal, it drew me to her.
She leaned closer and closer as time went on, looking at the drawings with palpable excitement. Witches thrived onknowledge. Long ago, I found it endearing, but when the war started three hundred years ago, I grew to detest it. They wanted to find more ways to hurt beasts and gain control of the world. Witches were smart and powerful enough to do it too.
But here I could see how the desire was almost childlike: Curious and wide-eyed. A thirst to understand, not destroy. Somewhere along the line, witches, Mirneax’s specifically, became synonymous with the word enemy. Perhaps I was guilty of some prejudice myself.
After all, it was not so long ago when beasts and mages would band together to protect each other’s weaknesses. Beasts savored witches because of their amorous natures. Witches loved learning the infinite wisdom older beasts possessed.
Thirty pages in, and she was practically draped over me without even realizing it. Her soft body pushed against my hard one. I could feel her nipples pressing against my arm as if the words I spoke satisfied some carnal need I didn’t understand.
Her plump lips moved as I spoke, locking every word I said inside some mental vault for safekeeping. “You can go faster. I can keep up.”
An awkward chuckle left me. “I’m out of practice.”
Her face turned red enough to match her hair, and her ruby eyes jerked over to me. “I apologize for implying you were going too slow.”
“It’s okay. I am.” I admitted. I was a weak reader compared to her.
She realized how close we were and backed up. “I’m also sorry for invading your personal space.”
Still, it didn’t take long for her to press back into me as I started reading again. She felt like she belonged there by my side. Only she didn’t. She was not my mate. While her scent soothed me, it didn’t reset my world. My priorities didn’t beginreshuffling to put her at the top. I proved more than capable of hurting her in the past.
The desire I held at bay all these years finally got the room it needed to grow.
A knock on the door made my eyelids jerk open. A playful sound that Balthazar and I used when we knew the other person was with a lover. It took a couple seconds to understand my surroundings.
I still sat propped up against Esmerey’s headboard with her head resting on my chest. I moved my arm to wrap around her sometime in the night, and my other hand still clutched the book.
This petite woman was a soldier that struck fear in the hearts of her adversaries, me included. Yet resting in my arm, I could squeeze her too hard and break her.
“Edur.” Balthazar’s deep voice teased. “I know you're in there.”
What a prick.
Esmerey’s eyes opened and landed on me with confusion. Like the idea of me in her room before dawn was inconceivable. To be fair, a few days before, I was right with her on that sentiment.
“Coming.” I told Balthazar.
Esmerey moved faster than I did and tried to get up. But I overpowered her without even trying, she was unable to move my arm on her own. In a split second, I felt her rapidly beating heart against my skin, the bitter tang of fear hit my nose full force, and her flat mask of control locked firmly into place.
I lifted my arm, wanting to soothe her sudden fear. She scrambled away with all the grace of an animal trapped in a corner. As she made it to her feet, she subtly took a defensive stance, preparing to fight me off her. Her eyes jerked to the window. The darkness outside drenched her scent with terror. Vulnerability flashed in her eyes when she realized her goddess still slept.
“I didn’t mean to hold you down.”
This same woman fought Balthazar and me combined on more than one occasion, and she never showed fear. What just happened?
“I know.” She nodded jerkily, like she was telling herself the same thing. Her hands dug into her skirt pockets. I would bet my last silver it was to hide her shaking.
“You’re panicking.”
“I’m not.” If I didn’t know better, I would’ve believed her. Her calm expression and voice could trick the average person, but that scent screamed the truth.
