Page 39 of Unseen Eye (Aetherian Chronicles #1)
“Just this once,” I laugh, shaking my head.
His smile is contagious, and it brings a warmth that spreads through me, easing the tension I didn’t realize I was holding.
His hair catches the breeze, shimmering in the fading sunlight, and for a moment, I forget to breathe.
He looks different—softer, in a way I never thought I’d see.
And when he smiles like that, it makes everything else feel insignificant.
I can’t help but wonder if he knows how badly he’s affecting me.
He holds my gaze a little longer than usual, and something shifts in the air between us.
It’s subtle, but it’s there—a flicker of something unspoken.
His eyes drop briefly to my lips before he looks away, quickly standing up as if to dismiss the moment altogether, like he’s seen something he wasn’t supposed to.
Something he’s not ready to acknowledge.
“We should start heading back,” he says, his tone suddenly more guarded. “I need to make a stop on the way.” He offers his hand, and I take it, though I can’t help but notice the way his fingers hesitate, just for an instant.
“Sure,” I say, trying to sound casual, though my heart is still racing. I didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on my lips. Clearly, I’m not the only one feeling this.
As we return to the village, we turn down a quieter side street, leading us to a modest door at the end. Callon unlocks it with a casual flick of his wrist and opens it.
“Relax,” he says with a chuckle, noticing my confusion. “We’re not breaking and entering. This place is mine.”
“I thought you lived at the palace,” I blurt out, entering behind him.
“I have a room at the palace,” he corrects me, “but I live here. Sometimes, like last night, it’s just easier to stay there.”
As we step into his living room, I am instantly aware of how warm and inviting it is.
Comfortable, overstuffed furniture is arranged around a stone fireplace.
Shelves filled with books line one wall, and a large, well-worn rug covers the wooden floor.
The room has a cozy, lived-in feel, with a few weapons sitting in the corner.
“I’ll be right back,” Callon says before disappearing around the corner.
Left alone, I wander the room, my eyes landing on a painting propped on a table. The woman in the portrait is stunning—long brown hair cascading over her shoulders, her hazel eyes exotic and bright. She’s holding a baby, her expression soft, almost glowing.
“That’s my mother,” Callon says from behind me, his voice softer now, carrying a bag full of something. “She was killed when I was younger.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, and I mean it, thinking back to the story Leigh told me about Callon’s act of vengeance against her brother. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself from asking, “What happened?”
A sad smile appears on Callon’s face as he takes the picture from me, his fingers brushing against the edge of the frame.
“My father and mother were an arranged couple, paired by Valtris himself. My mother came from a very powerful line of lesser gods, known for their strong affinity of the elements. And with my father being Valtris’s son, I was basically destined for great things before I was even born,” he says, his voice tinged with bitterness.
“It took them over a century to have me after the Great War. When I was young, it didn’t take them long to figure out I had more power than most, maybe even more than my father himself. The others were scared that I was bred to conquer their kingdoms and make Drystan the king of Aetheria.”
Callon’s expression hardens as he continues.
“They were so scared that they attacked my parents, trying to assassinate them several times. They failed every time, of course. But later on, my mother was pregnant again. Despite my father’s pleas, she wouldn’t give up her role as queen and ventured to Astermiri for a meeting. ”
He pauses, his voice growing quieter. “The meeting was to discuss a proposed betrothal—between me and Leigh. Baron thought binding our families together would bring peace, but I hated the idea. My mother was determined to secure a powerful match for me, but I couldn’t bring myself to marry someone I didn’t know, someone I had no feelings for.
The thought of my life being dictated by duty and her expectations made me feel.
.. trapped.” His jaw clenches, the bitterness clear in his tone.
“The last conversation my mother and I had... it wasn’t pleasant. ”
Callon continues, his voice a low growl. “She was escorted by a small party that consisted of Erik, Theo, and Izzy’s father, Eamon, and a small group of guards.”
His voice grows quieter, yet each word carries the weight of the memory.
“Rebels ambushed her. Eamon failed to protect them and left her and Erik there—turning his back on them. We didn’t find out until a day later when she didn’t return.
That’s when I made it my personal mission to make them pay. A life for a life.”
His eyes meet mine, and I see the sadness etched there, but more than that, I see resolve—unyielding and fierce. “I don’t regret what I did,” he says, almost as if daring me to judge him. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
I don’t know what to say, and there’s no point in lying to him, so I nod. Tears sting the back of my eyes, the loss of a loved one all too familiar.
Callon’s gaze softens as he looks down at our hands, his fingers curling around mine. “Sometimes, I wonder if she’d be proud of me,” he admits quietly. “But there’s no regret. I couldn’t let them get away with it.”
I squeeze his hand gently, my voice thick with emotion. “She would be proud of you. Of the man you’ve become.”
He lets out a breath, his eyes still locked on the painting. “Maybe,” he whispers, but there’s doubt lingering in his tone, like he’s never allowed himself to believe it. His fingers tighten around mine, his gaze dropping to our hands. “Sometimes, I’m not so sure.”