Page 73 of Balance

Even with his permission, my hands shook with nervous energy as I cautiously brushed my fingers over the smooth, leathery, surface. Unlike the rest of him, besides his nose and eyes, his wings were not protected by hard scales or even the fine hairs that made the rest of his form surprisingly soft. The wings seemed fragile, almost, and my heart began to race with the swell of something unfamiliar.

With that thought, he straightened the appendage overhead, shadowing me like a canopy, and I was struck momentarily speechless.

That was until, close to where his wing met his body, the one imperfection jumped out at me.

“What’s that?” Without thinking, I stepped forward, pressing my hand flat against the ribbon-like tears shredded through the almost-translucent skin. Titus twitched in response, and I jerked away, touching my lips instead.

I should have known better—scars were a sensitive topic, and I was in no place to force my attention onto anyone. Especially not after last night.

Of course, Titus couldn’t answer—not right now. But my question did seem to draw his attention back to the present. He moved then, wrapping himself about me until his humongous head nuzzled my shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” I said for the lack of anything better. But why I was apologizing, I didn’t know. It might have been because I, for some reason, felt guilty about my previous thoughts of him flying, or even because I’d touched him without permission and maybe it had hurt.

But my chest was constricting in a strange way. Neither one of those things felt right. What was this unsettling emotion?

“So you can’t fly?” I asked, and his sudden exhale felt like a heavy weight down my back.

I’d lifted my hand, twisting lightly in his soft, feather-like whiskers as they brushed against my cheek, and words I didn’t understand or know swelled in my chest. “I—”

A creature screeched in the night, and the distant crack of a breaking branch echoed in my ears.

There was no time to move, or even to turn, before Titus shifted back into his human form, still naked and very much pressed close to me.

I jumped, pressing my fists to my eyes. “What are you—”

“Shh,” he interrupted, touching his forehead to mine. His finger pressed to my lip, and his voice was a conspiring, and almost excited, whisper. “Miles is just ahead. Let’s find outwhyhe left, okay?”

Why did he sound positively gleeful?

Besides, if Miles was just ahead, why was it necessary to be silent? Titus’s eyes wouldn’t be dancing joyfully if Miles was currently being stalked by a wild animal, would they?

Sometimes I wasn’t so sure about the two of them.

“So what?” I asked, my voice breathless. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m going to scare him.” Titus smirked, his angular jaw seemingly sharper.

Then before I could even react, he’d disappeared, naked, into the brush.

It took a long second for my racing heart to calm, which had nothing to do with the picture of Titus’s naked backside branding itself into my memory. Another breath passed before I realized that Titus had almost given me a heart attack just so he could prank Miles.

My hand had been pressed over my heart at the dragon’s retreat, and, with a slow breath, I lowered it to my stomach.

What the devil was wrong with these boys?

And why did that phrase seem so familiar? I could have sworn I’d heard it somewhere recently, but couldn’t quite place where.

Who cared, I liked it.

But… back to business. Screw their stupid rivalry. Titus had left me standing in the middle of the woods just to stalk Miles. How idiotic.

I, for one, would not play their games.

“Miles?” I called, stepping forward with only the dim lantern to light my path. If this gave Miles forewarning, then oh well. Titus could deal. I wasn’t going to stand around silently so he could stalk the witch.

I started in the direction Titus had disappeared, brushing back the thicket from my face. But the further I traveled, left with only my own thoughts and senses, the less I needed to rely on the light to guide me.

Like in the past, even if it was impossible to see in the dark, I’d only ever needed to trust in my senses.