“Impressive,” Bastien murmurs as he turns the amulet over in his hands. “I can feel the energy.”
I can’t help but smile from his praise. “We also have cloaking tonics for those traveling through the Rosethorns. It will keep them from being noticed. And protection tonics that can repel some of the blood magics that might be launched at our troops.”
Bastien moves back to the spell book but doesn’t touch it. “And what else has Amell taught you?”
“How to reach deeper into my power,” I admit quietly. Bastien’s eyes slide to mine, his brow furrowed. “He’s trying to teach me how to pull on it and use it offensively to attack.”
“You’re using the word trying,” he says. “Can you not do it?”
“I have no problem tapping the magic to use for defense or protection.” I sigh and rub my neck. I’m exhausted. “But if I try to use it to attack or cause harm… it’s scary. I can feel the darkness in me.”
Bastien moves closer, lips pressed flat with worry. “What does Amell say?”
“Darkness is inherent,” I reply, repeating my father’s exact messaging. “It’s in me now. A part of me. In fact, it’s so much a part of my makeup, I recognize it in others. I mean, I can feel it in Amell when he gets close. Like calls to like, I guess. At any rate, I haven’t quite been able to work up the nerve to use it offensively.”
“It’s only been six days,” Bastien says, reaching out to brush a lock of hair from my face. He seems startled at himself for doing such a thing, and his hand falls away. “Give yourself a break. You’ll eventually find a way to master it.”
I cross my arms over my stomach and shake my head. “I don’t think so, Bastien. When I try to pull it to cast outward, I don’t feel like myself. It’s alien, and if I come close to being able to throw an offensive spell, the darkness inside me changes.”
“How so?” he asks.
“It feels… greedy. Like if I let it out just a little, it will completely overpower me. It feels like an animal caged within. It wants me to do bad things.”
Bastien’s hands come up again, this time to my face to peer down at me. “Then don’t let it out, no matter what. You’ve already done enough.”
“But it might not be enough to kill Ferelith.” I feel like an utter failure. “No matter what we’ve accomplished, she’s still far more powerful.”
“Our sheer numbers will trample her,” Bastien promises, and then he repeats slowly, “You’ve done enough.”
His face is so close, I could lift up on tiptoes and touch my mouth to his.
“I haven’t done enough. We still have days of work ahead to finish all the spells and tonics if we’re going to be ready to march on Kestevayne soon, and—”
Bastien kisses me, and it’s not sweet or gentle. His mouth unleashes hunger and frustration, and despite the turbulence I sense vibrating within him, instantly my troubles and anxieties melt away.
I don’t even care if there will be a tomorrow with Bastien because what I have right now is truly more than I can hope for. Bastien has his demons, and he’s battling a mostly empty heart. I know he feels something for me beyond the physical lust manifesting at this moment.
I know care for me has developed since I’ve returned.
However, if he is ever going to risk building something new, he’ll have to forgive himself for what he did to me.
To us.
I don’t have the journey to make because I’ve already accepted what was done. It wasn’t hard when I took into account that his sacrifice was as great as mine.
“Will Amell or Heph be returning anytime soon?” Bastien asks as he moves his mouth to my neck.
Amell? Heph?
All I can think about is what he’s making me feel as his hands cup my bottom and pull me into him.
But yes… they could walk in at any time. “Maybe,” I groan as he bites my earlobe.
“We can’t have that.” His lips tickle my skin.
No. We can’t have that at all.
The world underneath me shifts as Bastien holds on tight and bends distance. I blink in astonishment to find us in the middle of a grassy field, a large pressian tree arching overhead. Its branches are so laden with flowers, they almost brush the ground from the weight.
He’s showing off his own magical skills because I’m flat on my back with a flannel blanket underneath me that he conjured from thin air. Though Bastien’s a warrior at heart, born into that caste, magic is the last thing he relies on in a fight.
But that doesn’t mean he’s not good at it.
Bastien is on top of me, and I tip my head side to side taking in the peaceful setting. “Where are we?”