The candle beside me abruptly burned brighter then a small piece of paper folded in half conjured from the flames and floated onto my lap. I peeled it open and the words “I’m sorry” were written in perfect script. No name was attached to the apology but I knew exactly who sent it. I knew his handwriting. I wasn’t sure why he sent an apology, however.
I tapped my toes and before I could even think of what to write back, another paper floated out of the candle. This time he wrote: I should have said it before. I want to take you to the dance. I want you to be my date.
Ugh, I wished my stomach wasn’t flipping with excitement at those simple words. This was a mistake, both of us knew it, and yet I didn’t want to go with Connor. I wanted to go with Zyacus. I’d rather not attend at all then go and see him with her, see him with anyone other than me.
I pulled open my bedside drawer and took out paper and a quill enchanted with endless ink. Brushing the golden feather of it against my cheek, I thought about what to say. After pacing my room for several minutes, I knelt at my bed. I read my note over and over before I sent it, almost tearing it up several times. I thought we both agreed there can’t be anything between us, the words I’d written chanted in my head as I paced, waiting for his response. I picked at my cuticles while my stomach roiled with nerves.
When the paper formed from the flames and fluttered into the air I snatched it with snake striking speed. Maybe we were both wrong.
Breath catching in my chest, I threw the note on my bed and stared at it like it might bite me. I wanted this but everything would change and it scared me.
Another note: Or maybe we should go back to pretending we dislike one another and always wonder what could have been...
Before I could even react, a quiet knock tapped. It was probably Bindy.
When I tugged the door open, I froze. In the low light of the hallway Zyacus stood as stunning as I’d ever seen him with a look of angst and yet hope. He didn’t wait for me to invite him in, he stepped forward knowing I’d step back until we stood in the center of my room toe to toe. “Pretending you don’t want me and I don’t want you. That would be the logical thing.” A wave of his hand closed the door. “Because our kingdoms, because of politics, because my father is against it, but mostly because if this happens to work out between us, you are magic-born and I am not. You will live hundreds of years and be young and beautiful and I will die an old man before you even have a gray hair.” His voice was rough yet smooth, the same as the skin of his hand as he brushed a piece of hair behind my ear.
That was why he’d kept me at a distance, why he pushed me away whenever we started growing close. It wasn’t just because we were royals of different kingdoms; if he fell in love with me, if we stayed together, I would live so much longer. Heart-wrenching.
“But Visteal,” he paused taking in a deep breath, “I’d rather have a short time of happiness with you than always wonder what if. I want you. I’ve wanted you for a long time. I’m sorry I pushed you away for so long. I’m sorry for being a jerk. I’m sorry I let what others may think get in my head.”
I swallowed and I’d bet he could hear my thundering heart. “I’m sorry too, Zyacus. You weren’t the only one pushing away.”
Leaning down, his mouth hovered a breath away from mine, a silent question.
I answered by pressing my lips to his, and strong arms enveloped me. Warm, soft lips moved in sync with my own and my fingers on their own accord, tangled on his hair. Breaths came faster—pulse pounding, I loved the danger of this, the forbidden aspect. The rush of finally giving in, alluring and terrifying as any battle.
Gently, he lifted his head. “I’ve wanted to do that for months.” As if he couldn’t resist, he kissed me again, and again, then took a step back. “As much as I’d love to stay here and kiss you all night, I should go. Legacy will be showing up soon no doubt, if not Bindy. And me being here is against the rules.”
Letting my hands slide down his chest, I pressed my forehead into him, “Is it always like that?”
He chuckled. “It depends, what did you feel?”
Lifting my eyes to his, I murmured, “Like I never wanted it to stop.” Like a shot of energy and wanting and desire.
Zyacus’s fingers glided along my arms and goosebumps tingled on my skin. “No. Most of the girls I’ve kissed felt… meaningless.” His thumb grazed my bottom lip, “But with you…” as if searching for the right words, he paused.
Holy Phoenix, the anticipation was killing me. But with me what? Was it bad? Good? The best? The worst?
“It felt like fire licked my soul and I was going to set ablaze.”
I knew exactly what he meant. I pulled the front of his shirt, dragging him to my mouth. After I felt like I was drowning in the fire he described, I said between kisses, “Alright—Go.”
The moment the door closed, I wanted him to come back. I also wondered what the hell I was doing.
Chapter 27
I tried to go back to studying but it was useless. All I could think about was the caress of the prince’s hands, his beautiful face, his kiss. The words he said. The way all of it made me feel. When Legacy came into the room we talked for a few minutes. I kept getting distracted from the conversation, and had to ask her to repeat what she said a few times. “Are you just really tired?” she asked.
The opposite of tired, I was electric. “Yeah.”
We went to sleep without me mentioning what happened with Zyacus. It wasn’t that I wanted to keep it secret, it felt wrong to talk about how happy I was when she was so sad about Aric being gone. I heard her crying before I closed my eyes.
My dreams were filled with fangs and screams and shadows. I was running—panting but I could not, no matter how hard I tried, move fast. It was like I was stuck in molasses. “Zyacus!” He was surrounded. Vampires dove at him, taking bites, ripping chunks of flesh. “Zyacus!” I bellowed, stuck in the sludge of nothingness.
Bolting upright, with sweat-soaked hair, I jerked the dagger from under my pillow. Blinking several times, I realized it was nothing but a dream—a horrible, felt so real—dream.
Legacy slept soundly, and the sun barely peeked over the horizon, staining the sky pink and orange and light blue. I dabbed my dewy face with a towel then headed for the bathroom. No one was up yet so I summoned the hot water from the faucet with my magic, filled a tub full and soaked, letting the heat soothe my muscles.
After washing my hair and changing, I went back to my room and Legacy was just getting up. Her hair was a wild tangled mess and her eyes were still puffy from crying so long in the night. “Morning,” she grumbled.
“Morning,” I said then she grabbed a towel and headed off to bathe.
While daydreaming about kissing Zyacus, I dabbed some color on my cheeks and lips, lengthened my lashes, and styled my hair. I couldn’t wait to see him in class. I was as anxious and excited as I was for my very first day of academy years ago.
When Legacy came back in the room, she gave me a sideways look. “You’re actually doing your hair today?”
Caught. Usually I did a single braid or left it straight unless she did it for me. I shrugged. “I felt like doing it.”