Threads of fate, p.49
Threads of Fate, page 49
His guests began to gather their things or to find the groups they’d arrived with. Taking advantage of the few free minutes, Roan rushed to Orah. Leaning down to whisper he caressed her arm. “This shouldn’t take very long. I’ll meet you upstairs.” Kissing her forehead, he dropped his voice lower. “I hope to find you in a certain black nightgown when I get up there.”
Orah gasped and moved to smack his shoulder but he was too quick for her. Laughing, she watched him saunter out of the room, followed by a line of his guests.
Sighing, she walked toward the door. Turning, she admired the ballroom behind her. It was a mess, and she was sure Etta was going to be beside herself fretting over everything the next morning, but it was also evidence of how alive the night had been. An electric buzz zapped through her as though the house was somehow agreeing. Smiling, she picked up the long skirts of her dress and headed up the stairs.
Lahana and Fawn raced past her giggling while they rushed toward Lahana’s door. Pausing, Orah decided to avoid the hallway for a moment to give the women privacy. Instead, she made her way to the stairs leading to the roof. She knew Roan underestimated how long it would take him to say goodbye and Orah wasn’t ready to sleep yet.
Pushing open the roof door, she gasped at the brisk rush of autumn air. Rubbing her arms, she walked toward the chairs. The sky was just as alive as the house felt and she couldn’t help but wonder how much of it was Roan. He’d been light and free all night, as though any stress he’d had in the weeks leading up to the party had just melted away.
Turning, Orah watched the lines of people walking out toward the city center. She was sure the majority of his guests would be going to the Perambulate to return to their homes in other Regions or returning to rooms in the inns in the city. But something told her the night wasn’t over for many of them and the city wasn’t quite settling down for the night.
Breathing out, her eyes moved back up at the sky. The stars twinkled above her, reminding her of the freckles on Roan’s face. She smiled at the thought and how much she’d come to love those freckles.
A sound by the door pulled her away from her thoughts and her heart stopped as she watched a figure step out from the shadows.
Marek’s grin was somehow worse than she’d seen so far. “I told you that dress was borderline inappropriate.” His eyes lingered on her chest while he bit his bottom lip.
Crossing her arms to cover herself, she scowled at him. “You sound drunk. Go back to your room in the city.”
Scoffing, he flicked his finger and disappeared. Panic engulfed her while she tried to locate where he could have possibly gone. A cold brush of air moved her hair against her back, and she whirled around as he stepped out from the shadows behind her.
“Get away from me,” she demanded, stepping back, and bumping into the chairs.
“I bet you didn’t know I could do that.” He neared her, and she looked down at the shadows now covering the lower half of him. “Even Roan doesn’t know. It’s rather new but also rather useful.” The shadows enveloped her legs and she cried out, realizing she could no longer move.
Stepping closer, his hand gripped her chin. “I meant it earlier when I said we could have so much fun.” Slowly his thumb caressed her lips. “Just imagine the noises I could pull from you.”
Rage replaced Orah’s panic and her body hummed in response. The shock of his appearance was wearing off and now she was angry. Wiggling, she pulled her arms out from the shadows that had been slowly creeping up her body. “Take your hands off me.” He hadn’t yet noticed part of her was free and she wasn’t quite ready to reveal her freedom.
Shaking his head, his grip on her chin tightened. “No, Orah. A God is speaking.”
Abruptly his hand threw her head to the side. Trying to hide her groan from the unexpected movement, she watched while he took a step back. His hands flexed at his sides and he bit his lip while his eyes scanned her from head to toe.
A sour taste coated the inside of her mouth and she knew, deep down she knew, it was not from the fear mingled rage she felt. Her body recoiled at the realization of the things he was thinking of. The things he would very likely do to her if she didn’t get herself away from him.
She thought of her training with Jes and tried to control the temper boiling inside of her. She didn’t want--no, she couldn’t give herself away when he obviously believed he had control of the situation.
His eyes lingered on her chest and she used his distraction to move her hand as quickly and discreetly as possible. From the corner of her eye, she could see the bright light forming in her palm and flicked her wrist out to wrap her rope around his ankle.
His eyes darted down the moment her rope flew out. She smiled, believing she had the upper hand when to her surprise a shadowed hand appeared, barreling into the middle of the stomach.
She doubled over in shock while her rope fell to the ground, disappearing in front of her. Holding her arm to her stomach, her eyes met his. He stood over her now and that sour taste in her mouth grew thicker.
“Did you really think you could trick me by using light magic?” His eyes glowed and she
looked down to see his palms were lit as well. Genuine fear flooded through her when two large hands of light flew out toward her. One grabbing the back of her neck and the other wrapping around her throat.
Her eyes widened and she tried but failed to make a sound. He smiled, as though the power had taken almost no effort and moved until he was mere inches from her face. His physical hands caressed her cheek, wiping away the tears she couldn’t control.
“No need to be scared Orah.” He lowered his voice as though he were trying to be comforting but there was something else layered beneath. Something evil. Something unnatural.
Orah’s tears fell faster now, but she couldn’t move. His shadows held her in place and his hand on her throat held her still, preventing her from looking away from him while his hand slowly traveled down her neck and toward her chest. She tried but failed to shake her head away and his hand of light tightened its grasp on her neck.
Her gasp choked in her throat and she silently begged herself to move, to fight, to do anything but she couldn’t. She was frozen. She was so frustratingly frozen.
He smiled while he tightened his grasp further and she closed her eyes. He was choking her, and she realized she would die if she fought back.
Perhaps she was meant to die. Perhaps that’s what she’d been feeling all evening. Perhaps things had been too good. Perhaps it was what she deserved. Her familiar cold friend clawed inside of her while its cold grasp gripped her at the same tightness his hands now held her.
“Open your eyes Orah,” Marek coaxed.
Blinking back her tears she opened her eyes. If he were going to kill her. If he were going to do whatever it was that he had planned. Then she would not be afraid.
His hand stopped above the neckline of her dress and he smiled at her. “You know my Father said I could have you when I come back with Him. Too bad He wasn’t here tonight. I might just have to ask for forgiveness rather than permission.”
Her power screamed at her to fight but she couldn’t bring herself to move. What was the point? Rage, that was and wasn’t her own, battered inside of her while her power thrashed and fought as though it were trying to claw at her skin. She couldn’t breathe through his grip, but she closed her eyes.
Jes told her this power was hers. Jes told her she needed to learn how to control it.
Marek let out a scoff and his hand of light tightened its grip on her throat. She let out a whimper from the pain and tried to bring herself out of the paralyzed fear she was frozen in.
She needed help.
Opening her eyes again she glared at Marek. The sour taste felt as though she were trying to swallow clay and he sneered at her, but he didn’t know about her little secret.
“Lahana.”
“Lahana. I need Roan.”
“I need help.”
Keeping her eyes on Marek, Orah called to the wind, unsure if Lahana could hear her but she had to do something. Anything.
“Help please.”
“Roan.”
“I need Roan,” she begged.
Marek pulled her head back with the hand of light at the base of her neck. He brought his hand to the neckline of her dress and she cried out when a small knife of light appeared.
“Forcibly taking these things off is so much more fun.” His eyes burned with evil amusement.
Trying to breathe through his crushing grip, she cried out again as his hand came down, slicing open her dress.
“Roan—please.”
The tears ran down her face while she threw out her desperate plea to the wind. Marek’s knife disappeared in his palm and his hand moved to pull open the frayed fabrics of her gown right as the roof door slammed open. Orah’s stomach slipped and the sour taste in her throat was replaced with something hot and scalding.
Rage.
A large figure landed next to where Marek held her. Her eyes darted to the door as Roan stepped out. His rage lingered like a heavy mist in the air.
Hot.
Wild.
Untamable.
Keeping his eyes on his brother, Roan flicked his pinky and Marek’s grip on Orah was ripped away while he flew across the roof.
Chapter 37
Jes, the figure next to Orah, scooped her up, pulling her back toward the roof door as Marek’s grip was ripped away. She watched in horror and fascination while every light in the sky, the city, and surrounding the house blinked off.
Every light but Roan.
Starlight seeped from his every pore. The crown at the top of his head was lit, appearing to be on fire as he approached his brother.
Orah struggled to breathe through his rage while she watched. Marek held out his hands in a silent plea for mercy when Roan’s pinky flicked again, and Marek let out a terrified scream as he flew off the roof, crashing loudly on the ground. Roan didn’t look back while he waved his hand, and a descending staircase of starlight appeared.
Staring at the sight in front of her, Orah pushed herself out of Jes’s arms. Frantically, she looked back at him. “You have to go down there. You have to help him.”
Jes moved to stand in front of her, putting up his hands. “Our Beskermer bond called to me Orah. Yours and mine. That’s why we’re here and while my Beskermer bond with him is screaming at me to go help him, my brotherly bond is commanding me to stay and keep the one he loves safe.”
She stared at him, trying to comprehend what he had just said. Pushing back the questions now running rampant in her head, she focused on Roan’s light descending down the stairs.
Shoving Jes to the side, she rushed to the edge of the roof.
“Where is Arno?” Roan’s voice had shifted to that low, gravely, almost monster-like tone.
“Why is he asking about Arno?” Orah whispered, keeping her eyes on Roan.
Jes stood next to her, conveniently blocking access to the staircase. “A Beskermer cannot attack a Governing God unless that Governing God has attacked their bonded. He’s trying to make sure Arno doesn’t attack and very likely kill him.”
Orah shook her head and gasped when her eyes traveled to where Marek had landed. Roan had thrown him so hard the earth cracked beneath him.
Marek appeared as though he was struggling to get up, but he grinned at his brother, spitting what Orah could only assume was blood beside him. “I told him he couldn’t come tonight. That I didn’t need him.”
Jes let out a quiet breath of relief, but Orah couldn’t pull her eyes away from the brothers. She watched while Roan approached Marek. The grass he stepped on withered away, as though his rage was poisoning the earth.
“What made you think you could touch her?” Roan demanded.
Her heart sank as Marek stood, glancing her way. “Someone has to.”
His arrogant shrug enraged her, and she shoved Jes, trying to get him to allow her down the stairs. Jes shook his head, grabbing her arm. “You will stay here.” He was talking to her, but his eyes were solely focused on Roan.
Scowling, she ripped her arm from him. “Roan needs me.”
Jes pulled his eyes from his Governing God and glared at her. “Orah, if you go down there right now, Marek will make a grab for you. I can see it in his eyes; he’s baiting you. If he goes for you, Roan will kill him. We can’t let Marek push him that far.”
The world paused at Jes’s words. Thick, almost suffocating tension surrounded them, and she looked back down to the ground, where Marek and Roan now stood an arm’s length from each other. Neither spoke, but a low, invisible hum pulsed between them. Orah’s own power thrashed inside of her. Begging her to let it out. Cursing, she smacked the edge of the roof. What was the point of her power if she froze up when she needed it most?
She shook her head, not allowing herself to go down that thought path when Marek finally spoke again. “It’s too bad Father couldn’t make it tonight. He would have been very interested in your mortal’s little magic trick. Shame, I couldn’t make her glow like that when I had my hands on her.”
Somehow not surprised at his arrogance, Orah watched the ground shake beneath the brothers. The grass under Roan’s feet caught fire. For several moments, the only sounds were the clattering of the chairs shaking on the roof next to her.
Abruptly the fire around Roan’s feet extinguished, and he shrugged. “I didn’t want Father here anyway.”
Marek’s eyes glanced at Orah briefly, then back to his brother. Marek appeared unphased, almost bored, but Orah could see that it was a mask. Roan’s small display of power had scared him.
“Happy birthday, Roan. I’ll be back another day to claim my party favor,” Marek said, keeping his eyes on Orah.
Roan’s hands balled into fists, and he moved to attack Marek, but a thick cloud of shadows came between them, blocking Roan. By the time the shadows dispersed, Marek was gone.
Beside Orah, Jes whistled low. “I didn’t know he could do that.”
“It’s how he surprised me up here.” Shame greeted her while she watched the ground where Roan seemed to be collecting himself. Sighing, she walked to the chairs and sank down. “I should have been more alert with how he’d acted in the ballroom. I should have expected something from him.”
Jes knelt in front of her, placing a hand on her knee. “Orah this is not your fault. You were surprised. Even though it’s been weeks, we really haven’t been training for that long. Please don’t blame yourself.”
She kept her eyes on Jes, not needing to look up to know Roan had joined them on the roof again. The thrumming hum of his presence had told her he was there. Despite how she’d felt so many emotions from others that night, she couldn’t understand how she felt his worry and anger. It was hot, like it wanted to burn right through her.
Clearing his throat, Jes stood and without saying a word he launched into the sky, leaving her alone with Roan.
Her heart tightened when she finally looked up at Roan. She hadn’t realized all the lights had returned to the sky and the city behind him. He was still glowing but not like before. The light coming from him now reminded her of the first day in the sitting room, when he’d shown her his power for the first time.
She shifted to stand but he rushed to her, kneeling. He placed his hands on both sides of her face and stared at her. His eyes scanned her up and down, surveying the damage from his brother. Grimacing, he stared at her neck and she knew she had some kind of mark from the hand that had gripped her.
Sickening anger flipped her stomach when his eyes landed on her chest and the now torn neckline of her gown. “I should have killed him.” His voice still didn’t sound like his. He sounded far away. So far away.
“No, you shouldn’t have.” She laid her hand on his forearm and squeezed tight. “I’ll be okay. I promise.”
Shaking his head, he brushed his finger against her lips. “I’m so sorry, Orah.” Tears lined his eyes while he stared at her neck. The chill of his shame washed over her.
It wasn’t his fault.
It wasn’t hers either.
“Roan, please. I’ll be okay,” she repeated.
“You shouldn’t have to be okay,” he whispered. “I will kill him if he touches you again.”
“Not if I kill him first.” The conviction in her own tone shocked her but she knew she meant it.
A smile formed on Roan’s lips and he stood, offering his hand to help her up. When she made it to her feet she looked out over the edge of the roof, where the stairs had been then back to him.
“You barely flicked your pinky and threw him from here.”
“I told you I hold back. I wouldn’t have known if Jes hadn’t heard you. I thought his Beskermer bond to you was figurative. I guess it’s more literal than we realized.”
Without thinking she blurted out what was on her mind. “Jes said you love me.”
“He did?” Roan replied, jumping back a step.
“Yes. He said that while his Beskermer bond was telling him to go and help you with Marek, that his brotherly bond was telling him to protect the one you love.”
Roan’s eyes moved up to the sky then out to the city. Orah panicked, thinking she may have misspoken when he let out a sigh. “Fifty years ago, when I became the God of Nyte, I decided I would live a life of solitude. If I were to become the God of Death then I didn’t want anyone to be forced to live a life surrounded by death and tragedy.” Turning, he leaned against the edge of the roof to face her. “I kept that decision. I didn’t pursue anyone. I didn’t even allow myself to fulfill purely physical needs. I couldn’t let someone get close. Then three months ago you walked right into me.”
The world stopped and she swallowed back a gasp.
“The Fates like to play jokes, I guess. Having this wonderful, strong, beautiful, feisty, and confident woman literally walk right into my life. I knew I wanted you from the moment I first saw you. I knew I wanted to know you past any physical desires. I walked through your memories. I saw the pain you fight through every day and I knew I wanted to know more.”
