He shoots towards the bookcase behind his desk as if he just remembered something, climbs on the ladder to a higher shelf, and takes down a tome. It’s one so old that dust rises from it when he drops it on the desk. I tuck it under my arm, shielding Cerys behind me. I put a hand on her hip, telling myself that maintaining contact means I can whisk her out of here quickly and safely, and that’s all there is to it, though who am I fooling? I look around, taking in the room’s details.
“I heard you have a secret exit in here. Where is it?”
The Grand Mage’s eyes dart to the door. The bastard still hopes his guards will gather in time, and barge in here.
“Really, Marcus, are you that stupid? You actually want a confrontation?” I can see that my calmness is staggering to him. “You would have your people face me, you’re not worried for their lives?”
But I can already see behind this, he’s hoping to get on Lysander’s good side, and even reap some benefits if he delivers me to him, or takes me down. Fire charges through my veins, and my body starts to emit shadow.
“Xerxes, please don’t do this,” Cerys intervenes. “You promised!”
But I can already hear the guards’ feet pattering against the floors outside the study. My ears adjust as I pick up the shifting air as they move, their whispers, their breathing and the beating of their hearts. The moment they kick in the doors, adrenaline shoots through my veins. Finally, I can live out who I truly am.
Cerys
I WATCH IN HORROR AS Xerxes emits shadow, rivulets of fire crisscrossing his bronze skin. The magic he exudes is enough to choke the entering guards. They squint at him through the veils of shadow, but can’t see straight, swinging their blades into thin air. But what strikes me most is the way he gets out of the way, so quickly that I don’t even see it happening.
He becomes a blur, and to the untrained eye it would seem he’s teleporting from one spot to the other. The guards’ blades slice through the air, but keep hitting bookshelves and random items.
“Over there,” the Grand Mage yells, taking shelter behind his desk, looking over its edge.
But the guards keep missing. The heat and smoke radiating from Xerxes burns their skin, sending them to their knees, coughing and holding to their chests and their throats. Weapons clamor as they hit the marble ground. The smoke is soon too much for Nazarean and me, too. I haven’t been able to use the confusion and to sneak out of the room, as I intended. I’m still inside when the King of Flames sends out a shadowy breeze that slams the back shut, sealing them, not letting anyone in or out.
I choke on the smoke, my eyes tearing. All I can hear is the guards’ screams, the confusion, and the commotion. I’m looking for a way out, when I see a bookcase sliding open to reveal a secret exit. The Grand Mage is trying to escape. I head toward the opening, and I’m almost there when a guard blocks my way.
He grins, holding his blade like a shield across his chest, but then he bends forward, pointing it at me. Nazarean hisses viciously, and my mind goes blank. Does he actually expect me to fight him? What chance could I possibly stand against his strong silver armor, and all the daggers strapped to different parts of his body.
His lips crack as a grin extends on his face, as if he’s looking forward to piercing me with the glinting tip of his blade. He lunges toward me. I don’t know by what powers and instincts I manage to move out of the way, the guard stumbling into the dark tunnel opening behind the bookcase. He gets back on his feet quickly enough, his agile eyes spotting me. He bares his perfectly white teeth, with the long canines that remind me of a vampire.
“This is from Kareim Velduros,” he says before he attacks again. Nazarean hisses, jumping forward to meet the weapon, determined to protect me.
I scream, the high pitch of my voice piercing my own ears.
But my familiar gets pushed out of the way at the last minute, replaced by Xerxes’ leather-clad back.
He’s placed himself between the blade and me, and bile rises to my throat. Has it pierced him? Has the guard...? High realms, I can’t even think about it.
I cry out his name, but then he moves briskly to the side, pulling the guard by his sword. Blood swells from his hand where he grabbed the blade, but nothing in his face shows that it hurt him. He hauls the guard against the bookcase that slid open to reveal the exit tunnel. The man cries out in pain as his armor splits from the sheer violence of the haul. Books and wooden shelves fall on him, the wood breaking on his head.
Xerxes grabs my hand, his powerful palm hot against mine. I meet his eyes, red, and deadly, and yet I feel that I can trust him with my life. I pick up Nazarean, my familiar snuggling for safety at my chest, and we bolt through the secret tunnel.
It’s dark and chilly, musty air whipping through my hair. Even though we’re forced to run, probably with an increasing number of guards hot on our heels, I’m grateful no lives were lost. Xerxes could have killed many, but he didn’t, all because I asked him not to. For a moment there I felt it would have actually given him joy, killing those men. After all, he’s a creature bred for war and destruction. Instead, he’s running away from the situation, picking me up in his arms, and racing with me through the corridor.
The chilly air soon turns to ice. I bow my head against his warm chest, holding Nazarean between us so he’s perfectly protected. I can see the fire coursing through the veins in Xerxes’ muscular arms, exuding power of annihilation. And yet here I am, once again running away with the man I was supposed to be running from.
For minutes on end there’s no light in sight, with the veins of fire under Xerxes’ skin as the only bright source in a long tunnel that soon turns into what I think is a sewer. I can hear rats scurrying out of our way, water splashing, and the stench is soon more than I can bear. I can’t resist and press my nose into Xerxes’ chest, breathing in his scent of wood and ember. It plays with my senses, making me relax and grow soft in his arms. When he finally stops and reaches up, removing the lid above a gully, I’m almost sad I have to leave the safety of his arms.
He helps Nazarean and me to clamber up onto a dark street. I should be grateful for the crisp night air as I breathe it in, but I wish I were still in Xerxes’ arms, inhaling his scent. What in the cursed realms, Cerys Dark, get a grip.
I watch Xerxes hoist himself up, his bronze muscles glowing in the moonlight, his hair falling to his shoulders like liquid ebony. When he rises to his full height, my eyes are drawn to the way his ripped jeans mold to his athletic legs.
“Come on, we need to get out of the open,” he says, placing a hand on the small of my back, and pushing the lid back over the gully with his foot.
“Do you think they lost us?” I say over my shoulder as I hurry down the dark street, holding Nazarean tightly to my chest. His heartbeat is slower than usual, or maybe it’s my heart that’s beating too wildly.
“Even if they didn’t, they’re not crazy enough to follow. For all they know, we could have armies ready to crush them.”
“But the Grand Mage, we discovered his secret, he’ll do anything to bring us down before we can talk. Not to mention he’ll want to punish us in the worst way.”
A growl comes from Xerxes’ chest, sending a chill up my spine. “I’m not some knight of the underworld he can punish. If anything, he’ll just do his best to hide from me for the rest of his existence. He hoped he could trap me at his mansion, or have me killed, and reap the honors that would come with that, but since that didn’t happen, all he’ll do for the rest of his days is make sure we don’t meet again.”