Page 12 of Twisted Souls (Twisted Souls #1)

Zara

We reappeared in my room, Jaxon’s arms still encircling me. I shoved against him, panic surging through me, and stumbled backward. I tripped over the edge of my alabaster rug and crashed onto the cold stone floor, scrambling to my feet and backing away.

“Zara,” Jaxon said firmly, his hands raised slightly as if to show he meant no harm. Blood stained his shoulder, a tear running down his sleeve from Xavier's attack.

“You're bleeding,” I stated, still reeling from the shock of what had just happened. He needed a healer, and I needed to know what in the holy gods was going on. I took a tentative step back, wondering if I could outrun him, but I knew that was stupid. He had magic, for fuck's sake.

“I’m fine,” he replied with a calmness that only heightened my alarm as if he were speaking to a skittish animal.

“No, you need a healer,” I insisted, turning on my heel and racing toward the door. My heart was pounding frantically, urging me to call for help.

I was only a few feet from the door when arms suddenly wrapped around me from behind. A firm hand clamped over my mouth as I opened it to scream, muffling my cries and preventing any noise from escaping. My body thrashed wildly, my legs flailing, as I desperately struggled to wriggle free.

“Shh, Zara,” he murmured soothingly into my ear. “Please, calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice took on a sharper edge as irritation crept in. “Stop thrashing.”

I stopped struggling, only because it seemed to be a waste of energy. His hold was too firm, and I cursed that these men kept getting their hands on me.

My anger flared, and I growled back at him, the muffled noise low and guttural, conveying my fury.

“I can explain everything, but only if you stay calm and promise not to run,” he murmured into my ear. I took a deep breath, uncertainty prickling at the base of my spine.

Cautiously, he withdrew his hand from my mouth, his movements deliberate as he released me. I moved away from him, stumbling and pressing my back against the wall. I raised my hand instinctively to keep him at a distance.

“Explain. Now,” I demanded.

“I am not from your world,” he began, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “As you now know, my name is Jaxon, and that was my brother Xavier. We come from a realm called Nexia.”

His words hung in the air, and my eyes widened at the information. I had been disappearing to another realm?! The realization stunned me, keeping me frozen in place as I waited for Jaxon to continue.

“A long time ago,” Jaxon began, his voice full of sorrow, “A witch named Morgana started a war. She wanted to enslave our people and use their blood for power. She had a book and used dark magic to unleash horrible beasts called Daka into our realm. Our father stole her book and her magic, managing to imprison her in a magicless realm so that she would live out the rest of her days powerless and die.”

Jaxon sighed deeply, rubbing his face as if trying to erase the weight of the past. “He sealed her prison before he died, but the rift the beasts came through remained open. Without the book or the spell, we’ve been unable to close it.”

He glanced at me, his eyes searching, but when I remained silent, he pressed on. “It's been centuries, and we still can't find the book. Witches now somehow have control over the Daka and are able to ride them. They have been rebelling again and destroying villages. We need that book to close the rift,” he hissed, annoyance clear in his tone. “The witches have started rumors suggesting Morgana is still alive, among others.”

He shook his head, taking a deep breath. “It was my job to investigate them. And while doing so, I came across another…” He paused, his gaze unwavering and intense. “A rumor that my mother is still alive, trapped. Here. And that she may have the book.”

Exhaustion weighed his expression. His gaze stayed fixed on the ground, avoiding mine, and I caught the way his lips pressed into a thin line. The hollowness in his expression made my chest tighten.

“And your brother doesn’t believe this rumor?” I asked softly.

“My brother doesn’t know about this rumor,” Jaxon replied sharply, his gaze sharpening as it locked onto mine. “He has enough on his plate.” He continued, rubbing his face wearily.

“So, he thinks you’re here only about the book and the rumors regarding the witch?” I murmured, tryingto understand the information he was presenting tome.

“Yes.” He sighed. “They never recovered my mother’s body after the war. They found my father, but not her.” The glimmer of hope in his gaze tightened the knot in my chest.

“Why go through the trouble of gaining a position here?” I asked slowly.

“Because powerful people have powerful things. I figured the ruling family would be the best place to start looking.” He shrugged. “I needed to blend in and have a position that allowed me access to people and places that others wouldn’t.”

“How do you look so normal when your brother looks…more,” I trailed off, unsure of what I was asking.

“I can shapeshift, or at least my brother can.” He saw my brows crease and continued, “I used his magic to alter my appearance to make me look less intimidating, more human.”

“Show me,” I demanded, and his eyes flickered over my face, clearly hesitant. “Show me,” I said again sharply, leaving no room for argument.

Reluctantly, Jaxon nodded. His form shimmered and blurred before my eyes, and in an instant, he transformed. He grew taller and broader, his once long-blonde hair now short. The strands longer on the top and shorter on the sides. His clothes stretched tight over his newly enlarged form, tearing at the seams. A tattoo nearly identical to his brother's spiraled down his arm, and power pulsed in the air, crackling like electricity.

I gasped. Though his features were softer than Xavier’s and his build leaner, they could’ve been twins. Unlike his brother’s, Jaxon’s tattoo stopped just before his forearm, and I stared at the transformed man in front of me, eyes wide and body tense.

Every instinct screamed at me to run, to get away from the raw power radiating from him, but I remained glued to the wall, my mouth hanging open in shock. In the next instant, he shifted back, returning to the familiar form of the captain. His clotheswerefurther shredded from the transformation, exposing more of his muscular frame.

“Zara,” he breathed, uncertainty flickering in his eyes.

I couldn’t take it anymore. The weight of everything pressed down on me, exhaustion settling deep into my bones. Without a word, I walked to the chair in front of the hearth, grabbed the whiskey decanter I had left on the table earlier, and poured myself a full glass. I downed it in one gulp, then poured another and filled a second glass for Jaxon.

I held the glass out to him in silence, and he seemed to let out a breath. Slowly, he came around the chair, accepting the drink with a nod before sinking into the chair opposite me. His posture mirrored mine—tired, rattled, uncertain. My eyes drifted down to his blood-soaked shirt, and a fresh wave of nausea rose in my chest.

“At least let me look at your wounds,” I nearly shouted, jumping out of my seat and moving around the table. My fingers worked quickly, tugging at the torn fabric of his shirt to examine his arm and abdomen. But when I pulled back the ripped cloth, there was… nothing. My brows furrowed in confusion as I shifted his shirt further, my eyes searching the area where I was certain Xavier had stabbed him. All I found was smooth, golden skin stretched over muscle.

I pressed gently against the spot where the injury should have been, and Jaxon’s breath hitched in response.

“They’ve healed,” he murmured, his voice low and strained, “but they’re still tender.”

His eyes locked onto mine, and I suddenly realized how close our faces were—close enough to feel the warmth of his breath against my skin. My cheeks flushed hot, and I quickly dropped the scrap of his shirt, stepping back. But in my flustered state, I forgot about the table behind me. I crashed into it, falling backward.

Jaxon cursed softly, his reflexes quicker than mine, grabbing me before I could fall. In an instant, he stood, pulling me against his chest. His arms wrapped around me, steadying me. I looked up, and his golden eyes sparkled with amusement, his lips twitching into a faint smirk.

“Maybe you should just stay seated, Princess,” he teased, smirking down at me. I shoved away from him; this time, his arms fell away without resistance.

“How… how could they be healed?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

“Magic,” he replied simply, shrugging as if it explained everything. “It's my Fae blood—it heals me. It can work quickly depending on the severity of the injury.”

My eyebrows furrowed again, frustration and confusion swirling in my mind. “Fae?”

Jaxon’s lips thinned. “We are not mortal, like your people here. Magic runs in our veins, and in our lands. It allows us to live long lifetimes, to wield magic, and to heal. But we are not immortal, nor immune to fatal injuries.”

My eyes widened. “And how is it I have magic? Why do I keep disappearing?” I searched his eyes, hoping for answers.

“I was hoping you could tell me,” he admitted. “Sit.” He gestured to the chair I had vacated.

I hesitated, then decided to sit on the table between us instead, picking up my glass of whiskey and draining it once more. Jaxon’s gaze stayed fixed on me as I drank, and he sat down again in his chair. In the tight space, our knees brushed, sending a jolt of awareness through me. I shifted anxiously as he continued to watch me.

“How do you know my brother?” he asked, his tone laced with thinly veiled irritation.

“I don’t,” I replied quickly, but his raised eyebrow told me he wasn’t buying it.

A sigh escaped my lips. “I don’t,” I repeated. “I only met him once. I sort of… fell on him the other day when I, uh, what did you call it? Shadowed?” The word tasted foreign on my tongue, but it seemed to fit. “What is that, anyway? Shadowing?”

“It's a rare form of magic in our realm. It’s a type of magic that allows you to step in between to get to another location. My brother and I can do it—but only short distances. No one I know can travel as far as crossing realms as you did.” He paused, eyeing me suspiciously. “How do you do it?”

“I’m not even sure I am doing it,” I admitted, frustration creeping into my voice. “I can’t control when it happens or where I end up.”

Jaxon leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees, closing the space between us. The intensity of his gaze made me fidget. “How long has this been happening?”

“A month, maybe a little longer,” I replied, conscious of his focused gaze. “The first few times I was alone. The last time…” I hesitated, my mind flashing back to that night. “I sort of… fell on top of your brother.”

His lips twitched into a hidden smile at that. “What happened?” He reached around me to grab the glass I had poured, his hand brushing against my knee. The touch sent a flush of warmth through me, and I could feel my cheeks heating.

“Nothing much,” I managed, trying to steady my voice. “He threatened me with a knife, much like what you’ve done.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “I was, um…” I faltered, my face growing even warmer. “I wasn’t exactly dressed for the occasion. He ended up giving me his shirt to wear.”

Jaxon’s eyebrow arched in question, but I chose to ignore it. “After that, I disappeared, and aside from that, we haven’t had much of a run-in.”

Jaxon looked down into his glass, contemplating for a moment. “And you appeared near him again this time,” he said blandly, more to himself. He downed the contents of his glass in one gulp, his eyes going to the decanter behind me.

Before he could lean closer, I twisted and grabbed the decanter. His lips curved into a faint smile at my jittery response, and I poured him a fresh glass and set the decanter closer to us on the table.

“It appears so.” I sighed. “Why do you think that is?”

Jaxon’s brow furrowed slightly, and after a moment, he let out a low chuckle, looking up at me with a smirk. “Is this why you wanted to train with the guards?” He ran a hand through his hair, clearly finding that funny.

“Do you find that amusing?” I started to stand, but he gently grabbed my wrists and guided me back into my seat.

“No, Zara. I admire that you wanted to learn how to protect yourself.” Jaxon’s thumb brushed gently across my wrist before he released it, leaning back in his chair. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he looked away, lost in thought.

I shifted, leaning closer. “What did you take?” I asked, my voice edged with curiosity.

Jaxon froze, his gaze dropping to his lap. “His magic,” he confessed quietly, his eyes closing as he rubbed the spot between his brows, his fingers pressing against his temples.

I took a sharp breath. “You can do that? How?”

“It’s…complicated.” He sighed, meeting my gaze once more. I looked at him, waiting for an explanation. “My father sealed the rift to your realm but left a loophole. If we ever needed to open it again, it could be done with royal blood. But only theroyal blood of the current ruler. I needed my brother's magic…his…” He shook his head but continued, “I needed it to open the rift for me.” His eyes went misty as if he were reliving a painful memory.

“Your brother is King?” I gulped, feeling stupid for not registering that information sooner.

Jaxon nodded, pulling a silver pocket watch from his pocket. The watch was the same one he had earlier tonight, its emerald centerpiece glinting ominously. The metal encircling the gem was engraved with overlapping vines and symbols that I couldn’t quite identify.

“Not only did I need his magic to open the realm,” he continued, his fingers tracing the intricate engravings, “but I needed it to protect and help disguise me. In case the other rumors were true.”

I scrunched my brows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“My brother is a shapeshifter—that’s how I’ve been able to disguise myself,” Jaxon explained, his fingers brushing the pocket watch before he tucked it away. “He’s the last in our realm with that ability. He inherited it from our mother.” Jaxon let out a light laugh. “On top of that, he’s also the last to possess true shadow magic.”

Jaxon ran a hand through his hair, his eyes clouding. “My brother is the most powerful Fae to have ever existed, and I…” He trailed off, his voice faltering as he swallowed the unspoken words.

My gaze softened as I watched him, noting the troubled and pained expression that marked his features.

“The magic I used was old and ancient,” he breathed. “It’s forbidden and complicated.” His eyes reflected a deep sadness, and I could see the regret etched on his face.

“He will forgive you,” I said, offering what comfort I could. Jaxon’s face softened, but he shook his head slightly.

“He is your family,” I continued, pressing my hand to his knee in a gesture of comfort. He stared at my hand, and I began to pull it away, but he reached out and gently grasped it.

His eyes lifted to meet mine, a mix of gratitude and vulnerability. “I'm sorry you've been pulled into this, Zara,” Jaxon whispered.

“If I can shadow, does this mean I am like you?” I asked, bracing myself for the answer.

“Your scent is human, but there’s something unusual about it. It’s like something’s missing,” he murmured.

“My scent? Why do people keep saying that? Do I smell?” I asked incredulously, and he started to laugh, a grin spreading across his face.

His thumb brushed gently over my hand, causing shivers to race down my spine. “We have heightened senses. Everyone has a distinct smell, their essence of who they are.”

I raised my arm and smelled it. Jaxon watched me with an amused smile, his eyes softening. “You don’t smell bad, Zara. You smell like a crisp winter day.”

His comment was unexpected and oddly comforting.

“You smell like a rainstorm,” I said before I could stop myself, feeling my cheeks warm. He leaned closer, his smile widening, and I stood up abruptly, ripping my hand from his and walking over to the fire.

When I turned around, a startled gasp escaped me as Jaxon appeared directly in front of me. I instinctively stepped back, only to find myself pressed against the wall beside the hearth, his body a firm barrier around mine. My heart raced, the rhythmic pounding echoing in my ears as one of his hands settled on my waist and the other cradled my face.

“Jaxon,” I breathed out, saying his true name for the first time. He shivered slightly at the sound, his body pressing closer to mine. The cold stone wall dug uncomfortably into my back as he leaned in, his lips brushing mine.

“Do you regret what happened between us?” he asked, his tongue grazing my lower lip, sending a shiver through me.

“No,” I admitted, and he closed the distance between us, kissing me softly.

“But I think I need time to process all of this,” I said breathlessly. His golden eyes softened, reflecting an understanding that eased my worry. He pulled back slightly but remained close, his body still solidagainst mine. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came. He studied me for a moment longer before stepping back and turning toward the door.

He reached for one of my cloaks hanging on the hooks and wrapped it around himself. Turning his head toward me, he said, “I’ll be back, Princess. We still have a lot to discuss.” He then walked out, leaving me staring after him.

The events from today crashed over me as the door closed.

Jeremy wasn’t Jeremy; my stranger was his brother, and there was such a thing as magic and Fae, witches and other worlds. And that kiss… I was indeed in trouble.