Page 15 of Behind Amber Eyes

He’s here.

Chapter 8

My breath catches as he walks toward me. Unlike at our first meeting, I have time to fully take him in. He's dressed smartly, in fitted black slacks and a black button-up shirt, with a silk maroon vest and black leather loafers. His dark waves hover over his shoulders and he has neatly trimmed facial hair. As he gets closer, I'm able to have another chance to study his eyes. They hold the same depth as before, though now I pay more attention to details. They're amber as I remember, providing a beautiful contrast to his deep olive skin, but with gold speckled throughout his iris. There’s also a faint red outline around his pupil that seems to grow in intensity as he looks at me. I feel something deep stir in me again, though this time for a very different reason. I look away briefly to gain some clarity.

“Hello, Amelia.”

His sultry baritone voice causes me to look back up at him. He's kept a small distance between us, presumably for my comfort. I need to get ahold of myself; this might be my onlychance to get answers. I refuse to dwell on why I'm reacting so strongly to him and instead try to think rationally. He's still looking at me, clearly waiting for me to talk.

I swallow and stand tall, trying to exude confidence. "How do you know my name?"

A ghost of a smirk flits across his face, so quickly I'm not sure it was really there. "Right to business, then.” He looks at me with understanding eyes. “I want to tell you, I do. However, now is not the time."

This frustrates me. I didn't come here to be toyed with—I came here for answers. Answers that I feel this man owes me.

I open my mouth to speak, but my frustration must have been obvious because he continues, "It's not because I don't want to. Believe it or not, I'm doing this foryou. It would just be...too much, too quickly." He takes a step closer to me, but when I move back, he stills, a hint of disappointment in his eyes. "It's difficult for me to explain without revealing too much. All I can ask is that you place some trust in me and believe that I am doing this for your benefit."

I scoff, my frustration turning into anger. It allows me to clear out the heady fog that had begun to settle over my mind, which I appreciate. "I don't even know you! And you want to me what, placetrustin you? On top of that, who are you to say I can't handle something?"

The hint of a smirk appears again as his eyes roam over me. “Got a bit of a bite in you this time,” he murmurs hungrily to himself. As if realizing that he said that aloud, he closes his eyes and takes a calming breath. He genuinely seems pained by the discussion, which only serves to confuse me.

"Of course, you can handle yourself. Again, I ask that you trust me. This has nothing to do with what you are capable of. What I have to say...it would be too much for anyone, at thispoint." He takes another step closer, though this time I don't step back. "Let's start small. My name is Arman."

I want to question him more, but it's clear I won't get anywhere that way. Besides, it seems that my…bite…does the opposite of what I intend. I clear my throat, folding my arms protectively around myself. "Arman, okay. And you're a Dark Elder."

He nods with a sigh. "'Dark' is subjective. I am simply a different kind of Elder. What many people forget is that there always needs to be two sides of the coin: just as creation is important, so is destruction. Though, I will admit, we do tend to prefer night. In that sense, it’s fitting."

My brow furrows in confusion. "What does that even mean? You're basically admitting enjoying destruction, do you realize that?" I'm still annoyed over his lack of answers and it's clearly coming out in my tone.

His jaw clenches in annoyance, as if he’s had this discussion before, but he continues in his patient tone. "You are assuming that all destruction is bad,” He clips, gaze imploring, before he turns thoughtful, “think of...think of a girl, one who has had her whole life upended. It feels horrid in the moment, as if she is constantly pulled to the ground and struggles to find joy in things that once made her happy. But, once the storm clears, she finds herself in a new place, one she would have never imagined for herself before. One that now she cannot imagine being without. That time of pain may leave scars, but she will be better for it. She will grow." He takes another step closer to me, feeling a bit more brazen. "That is what I mean, Amelia.Thatis destruction. Staying in comfort may gratify in the moment, but there is no growth. Everything just...stops."

I don't want to admit it, but what he says makes sense. More than that, it answers a question about myself I didn’t even realize I had. Maybe that's one reason why I struggle to adhere tothe Society's rules: it's just sostill. I don't want to dwell on that now, though; this is all confusing enough as it is. Instead, I focus on details. Details which seem a bit too fitting for comfort.

"Who's the girl in this story? Me?"

He smiles softly and I see something warm in his eyes, almost imperceptible, but it quickly fades. "It can be whoever you want it to be, Amelia. It applies to everyone."

I don’t necessarily agree with him; I can think of multiple people who would prefer the comfort of stillness. Though I’m connecting with his analogy, it has done nothing to answer my questions, whether he thinks I’m ready or not. I huff and tap my foot impatiently. “Listen, that’s great and all. You still haven’t given me any answers.”

His expression turns from soft to guarded. “And, as you remember, I told you I would not. At least, not yet. I know it doesn’t make sense, but I promise that you will understand in time.”

I roll my eyes, sick of the ambiguous bullshit. “If you weren’t planning to tell me anything, then why make me come all the way out here? We’ve accomplished nothing with this meeting,Arman.” I say his name mockingly, letting my anger get the best of me.

He looks to the sky, clearly agitated, and then asks, “You have fear surrounding Dark Elders, do you not?” Before I can say anything, he continues. “Of course, you do. They embed it in you. Before I reveal anything, Amelia, you have to let go of that fear.” He softens as he takes the final steps toward me. “Not everything is as it seems.”

I swallow, breath trembling at his proximity and the foreboding in his words. I don’t know what to say, so I keep my mouth shut, eyes fastened on him.

He glances behind me. "It's getting late. It'll take you at least ten minutes to get back to the protection field, and your spellis about to wear off. I know this wasn’t much of a meeting but wanted to at least see you in person." When I open my mouth to question him, he raises a hand. "Don't worry, I'm not stalking you. There aren't many other options than a temporary road opener for a novice."

I begin to feel strangely self-conscious. "How do you know I'm a novice?"

He chuckles softly. "Because you're notallowedto explore your gifts. You forget that there are Society outcasts in this community. However," he fishes something out of his pocket, "I have something that will allow you to stay out later and remain undetected. One for your friend, too."

I tentatively reach out a hand and grab the items, filing away the knowledge that not only does he know about Olivia, but has already begun including her. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing.

The items are nothing spectacular, simply small tube-shaped vials kept closed with a lid made from some sort of dark metal I’ve never seen, tied around silver chains. What makes them stand out is the small, almost imperceptible, glow around the glass. After a moment, I recognize their purpose. "These are amulets, aren't they?"

He nods. "Sort of. I made them myself, so very potent. Don't let them out of your sight."

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