Page 48 of Brighter Than Gold

“So, you could just live outside right now and not be affected?”

“Essentially, yes.

“And it was the Goddess…”

“Corvina, yes. The Goddess of darkness. She is said to be the one who gifted my ancestors the ability to survive the cold, and she marked them with the blackest hair so they would always remember to whom they owe their gifts. There are monoliths and shrines dedicated to her inside of the mountains.”

Callan’s eyes danced over my hair as if it were some holy thing to behold. “Touched by the Gods then.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps it’s just a story old men made up to explain things they can’t. Doyoubelieve in the Gods?”

Callan smiled and shook his head. “Javra, perhaps. I’ve seen more death than a person should.”

Javra, the God of death who collected our souls when our body expired.

A solemness blanketed us.

“I saw more than I should have as a young girl,” I admitted.

“It breaks my heart to hear you say that.”

“I’m sure whateveryou’velived through was worse.”

“No, Reyah. There is no better or worse when it comes to death.”

I gave him a broken smile. I was relieved that I was once again getting the real Callan, and not the oppressive general.

His face suddenly lightened. “Tell me, Reyah, all those times I was bundling you up to keep you warm outside, were you just placating me?”

I sucked my lips behind my teeth attempting to stifle my laugh.

“Really?”

“I’m sorry! What was I supposed to say? Half the time I was sweating through everything just to keep up appearances!”

Callan laughed, pushing back his bed-ruffled brown curls, and the buttery morning light coming in through the window glowed along his ochre, freckled skin.

“The night in the tent though, you were shivering!” he accused.

“Shit. The truth, Callan? I was heaving and trying not to throw up.” I cringed, embarrassed, and he put his hands over his face and chuckled.

Something warm rushed through my chest. I’d confessed everything to this man, and here he lay, without judgment, without malice, without a hint of reservation that there was anything dark or ugly about my heritage.

My mind flashed back to the day prior, remembering being on top of him in the bath, and when I’d tried to kiss him. I regretted it now. I felt stupid for the way I’d acted. I’d felt alone and I’m sure I was just seeking out comfort, for a way to dull my misery.

“I’m sorry, for yesterday. I shouldn’t have put you in that position. I was just—”

Callan was watching my face closely, and then I saw it, his pupils surged into thick black disks. I swallowed.

“Did you…did you want me to keep going?” I asked, both timid and curious. My face flushed.

“No,” he said smoothly.

I reached out and pushed two fingers into his jugular and I felt his pulse thrumming an easy, even tempo. “Did you want me to keep going, Callan?”

He didn’t say a word, just let me feel his pulse begin to chug faster and harder beneath his skin, and I watched closely as his self-discipline crumble before me.

It was all the invitation I needed for my next stupid, impulsive move.

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