Page 9

SILIA

A soft hum knocks at the entrance of my mind. Curio usly, I let it in and allow it to flow through my thoughts. This tune is familiar. Where have I heard it before?

“Silia .” The cool tone reaches out to me, coaxing me to consciousness.

“Mm…” I groan back in frustration. I just want one more minute of sleep. I’m so tired.

“My Little Flame, please open your eyes.” If this voice wanted me to open my eyes, it was doing a horrible job. Its presence alone makes me want to sink further into oblivion.

Nothing has ever felt more like home.

I feel something move down my face, like fingers caressing my cheek. But it burns. These fingers are made of flames! I smack the hand away without opening my eyes, and I hear a deep chuckle. What the Hel is so funny?

I crack open an eye to find Lars hovering over me. I open both eyes and stare blankly at him. Where am I? I try to piece together how I got here, asleep and in his arms.

“There you are. How are you feeling?” Lars smiles sweetly at me, but concern swirls heavily in his eyes.

“I’m fine, I think. Where are we?” I move to sit up, but Lars gently guides me back down to the position we were previously in. From what I can see, we’re…on the floor?

“We’re in Diana’s room. You had a panic attack and passed out.”

Well, that explains the floor situation. My head doesn’t hurt, though. He must have caught me mid-fall.

Although my head is fine, my bones and muscles ache from lack of use, and I need to stretch out. I wonder how long Lars has been holding me on the floor.

“Why are we in Diana’s room?”

My thoughts are still hazy, and I’m still confused as to what we’re doing here. I twist my head to look at Diana’s window. The sky is already dark, and the moon is brightly shining through sheer curtains.

“I don’t know why you were in here. I just felt a pain in my chest like my heart was being ripped out, and I came to find you.” Lars’s voice softens at the end of his sentence.

“I came into Diana’s room because I missed her, and I needed to feel some part of her again.” I recount the actions as my memories slowly come back to me. “You said you felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest. I felt the same thing.” I have to look away from his concern. I am feeling too seen by him, and it's making me uncomfortable. Before I look away, I catch a look of unfortunate understanding from him. I can tell he has grieved someone like this before as well.

“I’ve failed her. I was going to see her the night she left, but I stopped myself. If I had just gone into her room, I could have stopped her from packing or at least found her note quicker. I could have prevented all of this, but I was too caught up in my self-pity to visit her.” Tears break loose before I even realize I had been holding them back.

“Little Flame, don’t blame yourself for this. There’s no way you could have predicted her leaving.” Lars leans down to kiss my tears away, and each spot he kisses welcomes a pleasant tingle and eases my soft sobs. I sniffle and ponder the nickname he has given me.

“Why are you calling me that? Did you get bored of princess?”

“I think it’s fitting, green flames and all.” He chuckles and wipes the final tear away with his thumb, then brings his gaze back to mine. His laugh is the single greatest thing I’ve ever heard. I’m afraid I’ll become addicted.

He laughs again and presses a kiss to my forehead, “Not as great as yours.”

Oh, Gods, did I say that out loud?

“You said you felt unbearable pain at the same time I was. Is that true?” I ask, hoping we can pivot away from that awkward comment I’d just made.

Lars sighs, and bears a look as if he’s about to confess a great deal to me. He finally lifts me off his lap, and I scoot to sit in front of him on the floor, face to face.

“Wait,” I say before he can get a word out, realization coming at me full force for the second time today. “It’s you. You’re the voice that’s been speaking in my mind.”

Lars’s face shifts into discomfort as I remember the whole reason I’m angry at him.

“You called me Little Flame in the library. You said Diana is safe!” My eyes widen at the memory, and his eyes dart back and forth between mine, riddled with worry.

“Wait, Silia, before you jump to any conclusions,” he starts, hands slowly raising in front of him in surrender.

I decide to bite my tongue and wait for his response. I have already made up my mind that I can no longer trust a word he says, so I can’t wait to hear what bullshit excuse he spits out.

“We have…a bond. One bound by the Fates themselves. It allows me to communicate with you without speaking aloud.” Lars reaches out his hands to grab mine, but stops and brings them back to his lap.

“What the Hel are you talking about? What kind of bond ?”

I don’t understand. I have never heard of such a thing. The brand on the back of my neck, however, stirs in recognition.

“See, did you feel that, from your brand? I felt it, too; they call to each other. We are Fated, Silia.” He slowly turns around, so I am facing his back.

“Move my hair and look.”

For the first time ever, I reach across the space between us and slide his soft, violet-black hair to the side. The first thing that catches my eye is not his brand, but the thick scar running through it.

“Who did this to you?” I don’t mean to snap the question at him, but anger boils in my gut as I stare at his marred skin. Someone hurt him very badly.

Lars reaches behind his shoulder and places his hand on top of mine. “Breathe, Little Flame. Look.” I look away from where our hands connect and watch as his brand glows a bright gold. With my free hand, I trace my fingers down the scar from the side of his neck and down to the glowing brand. The brand shines in response to my touch, and my eyes widen

Lars removes his hand from mine at the same time that I remove my fingers from his neck, and the glow fades back to nothing.

“What’s happening? It glowed!” I have a sinking feeling mine that mine had done the same.

“I told you. We are connected. Our gifts seem to fit together.” He reaches back around to touch my hand again, and the bright light returns.

“What color do you see?” He asks, just as breathless as I am.

“It’s gold,” I whisper. Was mine radiating the same color?

“Hm,” is all the response I get from him as a shiver runs down his spine. I watch goose bumps begin to form on his neck, then travel down the collar of his shirt.

As I take a better look, I notice his brand is that of two masks. They look cynical, like something straight out of a theater. One mask is smiling and laughing, utter joy; the other is wearing a frown with tears rolling down its face, utter despair. I don’t know what God this brand belongs to, but that’s not the part that worries me. It’s the bulging scar that lies atop it.

“Lars, who did this to you ?” I ask again, sterner than before.

I see him tense, then swallow hard before answering. “My brothers. They did this to me four years ago, on the night of my twenty-fifth birthday.”

He bows his head, and a wave of shame wafts off of him. Can I…smell…his emotions?

My pulse begins to beat sporadically, and I feel myself slipping into another fit of rage. “I’ll kill them,” I say instinctively. I can’t stand the thought of someone abusing Lars.

“There is no need. They are already dead.” Lars removes his hand from mine and shifts to look over his shoulder at me. When I meet his eyes, they are full of sorrow, and I can feel his pain deep in my bones. A few tears escape from my eyes as his agony overtakes any feelings of my own.

“My father killed them shortly after they did this to me. My brothers were riddled with jealousy at my gift and thought that if they could carve the brand out of my back, that my gift would vanish. They were twins and older than me, so they had already received their brands, but they apparently weren’t happy with their blessings.”

I cover my mouth in shock. Who could do such a thing? Especially to your own brother. “Lars, I’m so sorry.”

I was sorry for what had happened to him, of course. But I was not sorry to hear that his brothers are dead. This, in fact, brought me joy that they had paid the price for their sins. I hope they are rotting in the deepest part of Hel with Eus, the God of Hel himself.

“It’s okay, Silia. I’ve had time to heal. I do not hold them in contempt. They were na?ve and acted rashly.”

Lars turns around fully, his back no longer to me. He is still breathtaking, even with his smile missing. I want to take the broken pieces of his heart and merge them with the broken pieces of my own.

“Turn around,” Lars instructs me.

I turn my back to him and sit up straight. My hair is braided into two strands, so he doesn’t have to move it to see the brand at the top of my spine.

I can feel his gaze burn into me before he reaches up and cups the back of my neck, just below the brand. A warmth that I didn’t know I was craving overtakes my body, and I melt into his touch.

“Is it glowing?” I ask him, holding my breath.

“Yes, it’s shimmering gold. Like mine.”

I feel his hand move from my neck and glide down my back, then rest on my hip. His other hand soon joins the other side of my hip, and he pulls me into his lap once again. I look into his eyes, and they swallow me whole. Any anger I had towards him quickly dissipates into a forgotten memory. The entire room fades around us, and I feel like I can’t get close enough to him. I cup his face in my hands, and his expression softens as he turns his head to kiss one of my open palms.

His pupils dilate to that familiar size, and hunger ripples through the air. I stroke his cheekbones with my thumbs, willing him to calm down and savor the moment. It feels wrong to escalate this after he’d just unveiled the darkest parts of his past and showed me parts of himself I’d never seen before. He is too vulnerable right now, and I never want to take advantage of him.

I pull his face to mine and leave a soft kiss on his lips. He tries to deepen it, but I don’t match his pace, and he slows down in understanding. I pull away and look into his eyes again. His pupils slowly shrink as I steal a glance at myself in the glassy reflection.

“Stay with me tonight,” I say to him.

My heart feels so full at this moment. I don’t want it to return to that empty feeling it had when I came into Diana’s room.

Lars chuckles, and I can feel my heart overflowing with happiness. “Was that supposed to be a question?”

I don’t back down. I want to ride this high for as long as possible. “No, it was not a question. Stay with me tonight. In my bed. With me.”

“I have a better idea.”

Lars scoops me up into his arms, carries me out of Diana’s room, and fumbles with the knob to his own. I extend my leg and push my foot down on the knob, cracking the door open with surprising ease.

“Neat trick. I wonder what else those feet can do.” Lars shoots me the most devious grin I have ever seen him wear, and I try not to choke on my shock.

“What? I just wanted to know if you could do a cartwheel or something. Get your mind out of the gutter, princess.” He presses a kiss to my forehead and kicks the door the rest of the way open.

We make our way into the bedroom, and he slams the door shut with his heel. He carries me to the bed, and I realize I need to change clothes, and so does he.

“Wait, put me down! We need to change.”

“Let me help.” The smirk is still plastered to his handsome face as he lightly tosses me on the bed and begins to take off my boots.

“Don’t you want a clean shirt to sleep in?” I pull my feet from his grasp, but he’s somehow already managed to get one of my boots off.

Hobbling to his dresser, I reach around in the middle drawer and pull out the first tunic I feel, then toss it at him.

He eyes the shirt with curiosity. “I won’t be needing this. I don’t sleep with clothes.”

“Oh!” Heat radiates from my face as I think about sleeping next to a shirtless Lars.

“Well, if you change your mind and don’t feel like freezing to death in your sleep, leave it on the dresser.” I close the drawer and walk back over to him.

“I figured you could wear it?” His voice shifts from one of pure confidence to that of a nervous boy. I never knew Lars had the capability to be nervous, even a little embarrassed.

I grin widely at him as I snatch the shirt from his hands. “Indeed, I will.”

“Well, if we’re exchanging articles of clothing—” Lars reaches into the back pocket of his blue-black trousers and pulls out none other than my torn undergarment. I stand there dumbfounded as he dangles my underwear in my face.

“Why are you carrying that with you?”

I try to snatch it out of his hands, but my hands only meet the air as he moves his arm higher above my head, higher than I could ever jump. From this angle, he looks like a victorious knight who’d just slain the last enemy in battle and kept his severed head as a trophy.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. I don’t think so, Little Flame.” Lars quickly stashes the torn fabric back into his pocket and leans down to whisper in my ear. “These are mine, remember?”

A whole new shade of red emerges on my face, and I just want to get into bed and forget I had ever let him take those from me. I turn around to head to the bathroom to finish undressing, but Lars hooks an arm around my waist and pulls me into him.

“Oh, no you don’t. You can’t run from me.”

I let out a loud laugh as the wind is knocked from me, and my back collides with his front. He spins me around and lifts my tunic over my head, then replaces it with the one I had thrown at him. His scent lingers on it, and I find myself closing my eyes at the comforting smell, taking in every note, every trace of him. Once the tunic falls onto me, he bends down and snakes his arms up my legs.

My breath catches as his fingers hook into the top of my skintight trousers and peels them down slowly. Surprisingly, he doesn’t take my undergarment this time. I huff a sigh of relief as he removes my other shoe before sliding the rest of my trousers down. I have to grab his shoulders for balance. His muscles flex as soon as my hands are on him, and I see the faint glow from the back of his neck. I smile to myself at the revelation we are Fated, whatever that means. He is mine, and I am his.

“What’s so funny up there?” he asks as he glides the final boot off my foot and looks up at me.

The sight takes my breath away. His eyes show no sadness, no hate, no regret—only happiness, pure and unwavering happiness.

“Oh, nothing. It’s just a strange sight, you on your knees. One would think you’re actually showing respect for your princess.”

I giggle as he throws the boot across the room, peels the rest of my trousers off, and then tosses those, too. He scoops me up in his arms and straddles my legs around his waist as he carries us to his bed.

“I could think of one or two other ways to show respect for my princess.” That mischievous grin reappears, but his eyes look deadly serious.

“Lars! What has gotten into you?”

Laughter fills the bedroom as we both tumble onto the mattress, and he releases his grip on me. I roll out of his arms and soak in the enjoyment radiating from his face. I know this exact moment will be burned into my brain forever.

“Get under the sheets, princess. Want me to tuck you in?” He pulls back the duvet in one impressive swoop and guides me underneath.

“Well, aren’t you going to join me? Why are your clothes still on?” I realized how that sentence sounded the second it left my lips. He would never let me live this down.

“Well, someone is eager to get me naked and into bed. Of course, Your Highness. I am but your humble servant.” Lars rises from the bed and gives a deep, exaggerated bow, and it reminds me of how Rein had bowed to the king when he was late to our meeting the other morning.

“Do not think of him as I’m undressing and about to climb into bed with you.” Lars's expression changes to one of blazing anger before he wipes it away, and a teasing smirk replaces it.

Okay, I know this time, I didn’t say that out loud. “How did you hear that? Did you just read my mind?”

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. Don’t get ahead of yourself, Little Flame.”

He finishes undressing, now only standing in his underwear. I try to avert my gaze, but I can’t help myself but to take a peek. Who could blame me?

“Well, are you going to answer me?”

I scoot to the other side of the bed as he climbs in next to me, pulling me into him so that my back is to his front again. I revel in his warmth and thread my fingers through his as he possessively wraps his arms tighter around my waist.

“Where’s the fun in that? Your questions will be answered. Let’s get some much-needed rest first.” He pulls me impossibly closer to him as I roll my eyes and let out a frustrated huff.

“Fine, but you owe me!”

He owes me quite a lot, if I’m being honest, but I don’t want to ruin this moment. I would settle for an answer in the morning.

“Sleep well, my Little Flame.”

Lars kisses my brand and snuggles his head in the crook of my neck. His soft breaths tickle my skin, and I adjust our position so I can try to get uninterrupted sleep. I don’t think I can sleep through the night if I’m constantly holding back a laugh.

“Goodnight, Lars.”

I close my eyes, and I’m instantly on the verge of sleep and consciousness. As I lay there, just a few breaths away from drifting off into a night of sweet dreams, one question still burns incessantly in the back of my mind. Who is the God that had blessed Lars, and why did his brothers try to kill him for it?