Nazrin tore his gaze from Essa and launched himself low onto the beast’s back. The firedrake tossed its head in an attempt to knock Nazrin off, but he plunged his sword into the dragon’s ochre scales, creating a firm grip.
Essa’s scream sliced through the scorching haze. He tightened his hold on the beast. She was in no danger.
The scream was meant for him.
Nazrin lifted his head. Essa’s body blazed a bright blue. Every drop of water in the air and in the vegetation around them was sucked from its source. In an instant, a wave fifteen feet high formed around her. She thrust her hands outward and the wave crashed toward them.
“No, Essa,” Nazrin shouted, but his words were lost as the wave smacked into him and the firedrake, towing them under.
The screech of the beast’s cry drowned in the hiss of water against fire. Nazrin rolled to a crouch, coughing out the water and scanning around him. Hot steam filled the air, as thick as fog. As he spun, he spotted the firedrake in the mists. The beast reared and staggered to take flight, flapping its leathery wings. Nazrin sprinted toward it, but his wings were sodden and he couldn’t pursue it into the air. Damn. He cursed the beast as it flew off into the distance. Spinning back around, he squinted through the dense steam. His flesh was singed, the feathers of his wings crisp from the fire, but all of his concern trained on the crumpled figure on the ground.
***
“You should have warned me it was too soon.” Nazrin paced the seven feet of space in Aedre’s infirmary and paused. He craned his neck and curled his lip at the constant drip falling from the ceiling in the far corner. They’d restored the infirmary not long ago—and Aedre had fought them every step of the way. He and Gaven would have a hell of a time convincing Aedre to replace that shingle.
A leak in the roof was the least of his concerns in this moment.
Aedre pressed a damp cloth to Essa’s forehead. “How was I supposed to know? She’s only performed paltry tricks thus far.” Leaning back, she sighed. “She’s the daughter of an ancient sea god, and her gift is far more powerful than we had reason to conclude. We both should have foreseen more.” She raised a brow at him, as if this was his fault.
He scowled at her and resumed his pacing.
With abilities to rival a goddess, Hades wanted Essa on his side, or dead. In an age when the gods’ powers were diminished as they’d never been, she’d make a powerful ally. Or weapon.
Damned calculating god had omitted the extent of Essa’s powers when they’d negotiated for her freedom. Regardless of what Hades schemed, Nazrin would have to push her harder, because last night, her lack of training had nearly killed her.
Weak. Vulnerable, his raptor half hissed. Unacceptable.
“Shh. You’re safe. You’re well.” Aedre hummed a gentle tune beside Essa.
Thank the gods, she was awake. Essa’s sharp cry cut his relief short. Nazrin sprinted across the room and knelt on the other side of her bed. He placed one hand on her forehead, and clasped her frail, cold hand in his other.
“Nazrin,” she uttered, her voice hoarse from lack of use. Her eyes widened and he caught the flash of her memories across the surface of her mind.
“Don’t concern yourself about what happened.” He pressed down on her shoulders as she struggled to sit. “Easy. You must rest.”
“No.” She lifted her head, but the movement brought tears to her eyes.
“Fine.” He beat his wings at her stubborn behavior. “I’ll tell you what happened if you promise to sleep afterward.”
She closed her eyes once in confirmation. “How long have I…?”
“Two days,” Aedre answered from the other side of the bed. “I’ve given you something to make you sleep, so your body can repair itself. This will help with the pain,” she added, holding a wooden cup to Essa’s lips. She gulped its contents and reclined with a sigh.
“Good. I’ll leave you two alone.” Aedre slipped to the back room, shutting the door.
“What happened to the beast?” Essa rasped.
“It flew away.” When he’d mentioned the firedrake to the others, Thereus had recounted a similar tale of a beast attacking his village in Thessaly. No one knew anything more about it, though.
“Where did it come from?”
He shrugged. “Bloody good question.” The field had been burned, but not in the manner of a mindless beast. Instead, intricate patterns had been scorched into the fields. As for the firedrake’s attack on Essa… It could have obliterated her with one spurt of its flames. Yet it hadn’t. Why?
Her scrutiny slid to his shoulder. “Your wings, they were on fire.” She traced a finger along one feather.
Nazrin held his breath while she brushed her hands over his wings.
“You were on fire.”
“I was wearing armor,” he hedged. “Also, Aedre’s a skilled healer.” Essa pursed her lips, disbelief evident in her features. He wasn’t ready yet to reveal his immortality to her. She might accept that they came from different worlds.
But different lifespans?
He had to steer her attention away from his lack of injuries. “You’re not ready for such extensive use of your abilities.” When they’d formed the water vortex together, his powers had guided hers. Against the firedrake, she’d unleashed her energy without restraint.
She tilted her chin at him, green eyes wide. “I had to. You were on fire.”
His heart rammed against his ribcage. He’d suspected her motives, but to hear the confession from her lips sent the bonded male in him soaring through the clouds.
“I had to save you, I couldn’t let you… You’ve saved my life so many times.” A deep pink flush crept into her cheeks.
He coughed into his fist to mask his grin. His raptor half roared in triumph. Essa cared for him, enough to risk her life. He frowned at the second part. If he’d told her about his immortality, she wouldn’t have placed herself in danger. The temptation to reveal his secrets to her warred with his trepidation over her reaction. “You should have trusted me. I knew what I was doing.”
“Well, it didn’t seem that way to me. What you did was reckless, leaping onto that evil beast.” Essa scowled. Even in her weakened state, fury fumed off her.
Her rage fired his. She deemed him reckless, weak? Incapable of combating a simple firedrake? “I’ve fought many a beast and man, Sirena. You, however, have not. Yours were the reckless actions.” Rising, he crossed his arms and clenched his hands, talons digging into his palms. He was her mate, her protector. Yet she didn’t trust him.
Aye, her lack of trust was the source of his irritation. If she’d had faith in him, she never would have harmed herself. He never would have come so close to losing her.
In turn, losing himself. He refused to risk that again.
Sighing, he hung his head. Mayhap he should tell her the truth.
“Reckless,” Essa spat the word. “If I’m so difficult, why don’t you leave? I’ll find someone else to train me.”
He flinched. She spoke in haste, in anger, yet her words still sliced through him. How could she even think to dismiss him? Or that he would abandon her? Never.
“I can’t leave. I’m your guard.”
“My guard? Why?”
He strode to the window and rested his elbows on the sill. “You’re considered dangerous now.”
“Dangerous,” she stumbled over the word.
“Everyone’s heard about what you did.” He shifted to study her. “Do you remember the wave?”
“No, what wave?”
“You created a fifteen foot wave out of thin air and struck it against the beast.”
She blinked. “Oh.”
“It’s not only that.” He stiffened. She wouldn’t react well to this next news. “Essa, do you recollect how you found the water?”
A slight shake of her head.
“Every plant and field in the village is dry, every ounce of water gone. It’s like a desert.”
Her brows knit together. “But you said the beast flew away.”
He eased out his words with slow deliberation. “The beast didn’t do that, Sirena. You did.”
***
Essa’s pulse buzzed in her ears. She mustn’t have heard Nazrin correctly. “No. I fixed the field. I saved the farms. I—”
“Sucked the moisture out of everything to create the wall of water.”
She swallowed and her parched mouth protested the action. Her mind spun at Nazrin’s declaration and she collapsed her head onto the pillow. Was it true? No wonder Cassandra never permitted her anything more than those tedious exercises.
“We’re working to repair the damage, and we’ll ensure they don’t go hungry. Many people are uncertain of you, of what they don’t comprehend.”
I destroyed the fields. She was worse than the enemy they’d been fighting. Those poor people. A sour emptiness filled her stomach. She hadn’t considered what she was doing or the consequences. She’d simply reacted. Nazrin was right. She was reckless. Dangerous.
“Now you see why you must let me train you, so this doesn’t happen again.”
Essa glanced toward Nazrin. No longer was his face hardened in anger. A glint of copper flashed in his depths. Dare she trust him? He’d promised to train her before, and look at what she’d done. She rubbed her throat and missed the amulet more than ever. “I’ll agree to your training, but I want my amulet back first.”
He inclined his head. “We’ll leave as soon as you’re recovered.”
She frowned. Too easy. Too eager. Why did he wish her trained? The person he sought to heal with her amulet, who was it? “The amulet is my sole connection to my mother, but why do you seek it, Nazrin?”
“I know about your mother.”
“You do?” She jolted upright in the bed, dismissing the pounding in her temples and his obvious change of subject.
“I saw her once.”
“You did?” She gasped. “How, when? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Easy.” Nazrin strode to her side and knelt. “May I show you?”
She closed her eyes and their minds connected. A seaside village stretched across her vision and a woman with long black hair and deep green depths reposed on a rock near the ocean. Her belly was round and full with a child soon to be born. With some knitting in her lap, she stitched a delicate blanket and sang to her unborn child. Essa struggled to detect the words, the melody, anything. It was familiar, yet she didn’t remember it. Tenderly, the woman clasped her belly, a wistful smile on her lips. As she continued her song, the chain around her neck began to glow. The amulet.
Nazrin broke their contact before she grasped any other details.
“No. I need more.” Hot tears streamed down her cheeks.
“It’s all I have to give you. I feared it wouldn’t be enough.” He pressed the palm of his hand against her cheek, rubbing away her tears with his thumb.
Essa closed her eyes to seize the images again. A new grief welled inside her. She’d always wondered how her life might have been different. Now, she knew. Her mother had loved her. Her aunt cared for her, but as the Pythia, she didn’t love.
Her lonely, empty existence weighed her body against the mattress. What she had lost crushed the air from her lungs.
Yet, she’d survived. She’d learn to cope with this new grief, and be stronger for it. “Thank you.” She placed her hand atop Nazrin’s. The inadequacy of her words hung in the air. One important mystery about her existence was solved.
A lightness, followed by a dizziness, spread through her. She narrowed her stare on Nazrin.
Sleep. The command pulsed through her mind, and she yawned and obeyed, shutting her eyes.