“There were years where he didn’t experience them. At some point, they came back.” He plucked up several strands of my hair that were stuck to my arm and draped them down my back. “But he managed them once he accepted that it wasn’t asekyacoming for him.”
I buried my chin between my arms. “When I was younger, I would hold my breath whenever I felt that way, not just when underwater.” My face felt hot again. “That was before Holland picked up on it. You’d think that would have made the feeling of not being able to breathe worse, but I kind of had the opposite reaction. I don’t know why.”
“Even I don’t know why the body and mind do what they do half the time,” he said. And for some reason, that made me smile a little. “I don’t think any of the Primals do. But if it helps you to do that and doesn’t hurt you, do what you need to do.” He lowered his head toward mine. “Either way, you’re not weak, Sera. Not physically, but more importantly, not mentally. You are one of the strongest people I’ve ever met, mortal or not.” The tips of his fingers grazed the curve of my arm. “With or without the embers.”
The crack in my chest throbbed. A knot of emotion swelled so quickly in my throat that even if I had known how to respond to that, I wouldn’t have been able to. The back of my throat burned as I rapidly blinked away dampness I knew had nothing to do with being in the water. I knew I was likely projecting whatever messy feelings popped up, but he’d saidIwas strong. Not the embers. Me. And that mattered.
Because it reminded me thatImattered.
Pushing off the wall, I turned away from Nyktos and let myself slip underwater before the knot of emotion decided to make an appearance in the form of hot, fat tears. I didn’t know how long I stayed under, but Nyktos didn’t come for me this time. He was waiting when I resurfaced, though. Watching. Our eyes met.
“I’m beginning to think you may have a bit of ceeren blood in your family line,” he said with a faint grin.
“Shut up.” I shoved a hand through the water, sending a small wave cresting over his chest.
He raised his brows. “Did you just…splash me?”
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
Nyktos stared at me for several seconds and then placed his palm over the water. He didn’t run his hand through it like I had. There was a charge to the air, and then the water began to rise beneath his palm, spinning into a small cyclone. My mouth dropped open as the water continued to spin, the funnel growing wider and taller until I could no longer see him behind it.
“I know you’re impressed into silence,” he drawled from behind the funnel, “but I’d close that mouth if I were you.”
I snapped my mouth shut. That was all I could do as the cyclone of water arced and tipped over. A sound that was half-shriek, half-laugh left me as the funnel came down, pelting me as if I had been caught in a heavy rainstorm. I staggered back, shoving the hair from my face. “Okay, that’s not fair.”
“I know.”
Grinning, I drifted closer to him. “Do it again.”
Nyktos laughed. “So demanding.”
But he did it again. And again. Drawing the water into multiple little funnels and larger ones that changed shapes from a winged creature to a large, racing wolf that whipped the water of the pool into a frothing frenzy. I was equally awed, amused, and completely enthralled by Nyktos as he eventually joined me in the center of the pool, keeping one arm securely around my waist as the water whipped back and forth around us. Not because he could create such things from water, but because he, a Primal of Death,played.
As our time alone slowly but too quickly came to an end, I felt that noticeable change again. That intangible shift between us as he retrieved towels from a shelf along the back of the chamber. In me as I dressed, finding it difficult to keep my eyes off him and the smile from my face. In him, in the relaxed lines of his features that made him seem so young as he took the time to blot the water from my hair. And I couldn’t help but think this felt like…more.
Thatwefelt like more.
I spent the rest of the day with the young draken and Aios, and even if I hadn’t spent the morning training and then playing in the pool, the hours spent trying to keep Jadis from attempting to fly or set something on fire every other minute would’ve sufficiently exhausted me.
A moment to simply breathe without fear of something going epically wrong only came when Jadis scampered over to where I sat on the couch, lifting her thin, scaled arms to me. I bent to pick her up, but in a sparkling silver shimmer, she shifted into her mortal form, right then and there, naked as the day she was born.
Which caused Reaver to squawk and dart from the chamber faster than I’d ever seen him fly. I sort of wanted to follow him as Ector popped his head into the chamber, saw what had happened, and immediately returned to the hall, obviously wanting nothing to do with what was going on.
Luckily, Aios was prepared for the impromptu nakedness, whipping out a tiny light blue nightgown and managing to drag it over Jadis’s dark-haired head as she all but crawled into my arms and buried her face in my hair. She was out in seconds.
“I wish I could fall asleep that easily.” Aios lowered herself to the floor next to the plates of leftover food. I’d managed to get Jadis to eat from a fork again, but if I took my eyes off her for longer than a second, I likely would’ve lost a finger. “And don’t worry about waking her. The palace could come down on our heads, and she’d sleep through it.”
“Must be nice.” I leaned back against the couch’s arm as I glanced down at the wispy dark waves of her hair. “I wonder why she shifted. I’ve seen her sleep in her draken form.”
“None of the draken sleep in their mortal form unless they feel safe.” Aios brushed a wine-red lock of hair back from her face as she crossed her legs. I noticed the shadows had faded a little from her eyes. “Especially as younglings. So, it just means she feels comfortable with you.”
“Oh,” I murmured, glancing down at Jadis again. She’d turned her head slightly, baring one rosy cheek as she kept her hands clenched around my hair. Her lashes were unbelievably thick. “I think it’s my hair. Nektas thought the color might remind her of her mother.”
“Makes sense.” Aios’s smile was faint as she eyed thesleeping draken. “It’s kind of sad but also a bit sweet if that’s the case.” She lifted her gaze to me. “I haven’t gotten a chance to ask how you’re dealing with the delay of the coronation and the news of the summons.”
Keeping my arms folded around Jadis, I tipped my head back. “I really haven’t been letting myself think too much about it,” I admitted with a wry grin. “Probably not the best method, but it can’t be changed.”
“No, it cannot.”