Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

It was dark when Arkon looked up from what he had been working on and stretched out his neck. Usually, he couldn’t work around others at all, their energy and presence making it hard to focus. Zarya had barely moved except to get fresh pieces of paper.

He didn’t think she noticed that he was still there. Her magic flared softly, and silvery blue light stretched through the lines of the circular design she had created.

Arkon’s heart skipped in excitement as the spell lifted from the page and stretched out wider so she could examine each thread.

"That’s incredible. May I have a closer look?" he asked softly.

Zarya pulled her eyes from the spell to him. "Of course. I think I’ve figured it out, but we need to do a short distance test first."

Arkon crouched down so he was eye level with the floating ring of magic. If he stared closely, he could see the tiny runes dancing together in the woven strands. There were pieces of his original sigil in there, but it was all threaded together in a seamless ring.

"Incredible. You are... You’re a fucking genius. Do you know that?" Arkon said breathlessly.

"I only fixed your edges and smoothed things out a bit," Zarya replied. "The foundations are yours, and those were the parts I could never work out on my own. This is...us."

"Us," Arkon repeated. He was notorious for working poorly with others. This felt different. It was like he was on an equal footing and didn’t have to pretend he wasn’t as powerful as what he actually was. "I like the sound of that. Should we give it a go? How do I charge it if I can’t burn it?"

Zarya moved where she had cleared a space by a window. The glowing spell followed her over, and Arkon could make out the faint thread that was tethered to her.

"I believe using your fire will work just as well on its own. Come over here to me, and I will show you," Zarya instructed. She pulled him close to her, and he tried not to the let the proximity to her distract him too much. The glowing circle moved up and over their heads until they were standing in the center of it. Arkon could feel their combined power in every dancing speckle of light.

"Now what?" he whispered.

Zarya took one of his hands and placed it lightly on a thread. "Think of where you want to go. See it in your mind as a place or as co-ordinates, whatever will help you visualize it best. When you have it, send it onto the thread and push your power into the weave."

Arkon closed his eyes, so he didn’t become too mesmerized by the strands of light around him. He focused on the thread in his fingers and brought up the one place he hadn’t thought he’d take anyone to.

Sanctuary. He put his arm around Zarya’s waist, pulling her in to enclose her. If he fucked it up, he wanted to do his best to ensure she didn’t get hurt wherever they landed.

"Arkon," she whispered. "Do it now."

Magic poured out of him, quick and hot, faster than he had wanted, from a well deeper within himself than he’d accessed in a long time. The circle around them ignited, burning hot enough for it to hurt.

Zarya’s magic rose up to meet it, cooling it like water touching lava, and it amalgamated into something hard. Their combined power enclosed them, and they were gone, leaving scorched marble behind.

It was a blink, a heartbeat, a breath, and then they were crashing to a floor in a dark room. The passive magic in the house lit the lamps for them and bathed the world in a soft glow.

Arkon blinked rapidly, his pulse in his throat. Zarya was in his lap, her eyes still burning with their combined power. It was looping back to him with each pulse of her heartbeat, connecting them in a way that sent him spiraling. He had never been so seenbefore. Or had seen another so vividly.

Her eyes were quicksilver and hot with his own magic reflecting in them. He was kissing her before he could stop, his hands tangled in her curls, his lips devouring hers. She tasted of his fire and forest and sweetness.

Zarya’s tongue pressed against his lips, and he opened for her eager for more. He needed to be inside of her, to force her to surrender all that raw power to him. Magic curled around them tighter and tighter until warning bells clanged through him that there was too much building between them.

Zarya pulled back with a gasp of surprise. Arkon groaned, wanting to pull her back to him, his skin burning. Everything, everything burning.

"Arkon! It’s the magic. Calm it down!" Zarya’s voice cut through the roaring in his ears. Flames were falling from him and scorching the rug. Zarya reeled in her magic, all the beautiful silver threads disappearing until she was free and Arkon wanted to weep at their loss. She scrambled back from him until her back hit the wall.

Arkon pressed his palms to his eyes and forced all of his magic down, down, down, where it couldn’t influence him...or hurt her.

"Fuuuccckkk," he groaned. The taste of her was still in his mouth, the feeling of being exposedso deeply by someone was searing his nerves.

"You’re okay. Breathe through it, and I’ll find some water," Zarya said, her voice trembling.

Arkon took some deep breaths and forced the raging inside of him to calm. When he opened his eyes, she was moving back across the living room with a glass of water. She pressed it into his hands but was careful not to touch him again. Somehow, that hurt more than locking his magic back up.

"Where are we?" she asked, staring about at the furniture and pieces of art on the walls.

"Torcello. It’s an island in the lagoon. This is my house that no one knows about," Arkon replied, forcing his mouth to work. "It’s my quiet place. The only other inhabitants here are priests maintaining the Basilica di Santa Maria Assunta built by the Byzantines."

"I suppose no one would think to look for you amongst an island of priests," Zarya said and smiled a little.

Arkon drank his water. He was having a hard time not pouncing on her, and he’d never forced himself onto anyone in his entire life. He wanted that terrifying feeling back even if for a moment.

"We need to be careful next time we do that spell. The magic caught us unprepared." Zarya pushed her hands through her hair. "I’m sorry for kissing you without your consent."

"If you didn’t notice, I kissed you back," Arkon argued, not liking where the conversation was going.

"The magic was to blame. I’m sorry. I will have better control over it next time," she said, ignoring him as the heat in her eyes closed off.

She thinks it was just about the magic, Arkon realized, and it was like a kick in the guts. Maybe for her it had been.

Something he thought he’d lost long ago shriveled up just when it had come to life again. Sudden, aching despair choked the air from his lungs. He needed to get out of there.

Arkon got to his feet, so he didn’t curl into a ball. "Okay, let’s go back to the palace. You can do the visualizing this time, and I will feed it less magic. Are you okay to go again? I’m sure I can find us a boat if we have to."

Zarya’s expression locked up even further. "I’m fine. Let’s do it. My control will be better this time. I’m sorry. It’s the first time I’ve tried to combine my power before."

"Don’t stress over it, lupa. We are both learning to play with others," Arkon replied flippantly, the words like broken glass in his mouth.

Zarya summoned the circle again, and they stepped inside of it. Arkon didn’t dare touch her first, but when her fingers twined with his, he didn’t pull away.

Zarya glowed softly with silvery light. "I have it. Charge the spell now."

Arkon closed his eyes and fed in the barest drops of his power. It was enough because the light of the spell flared around them, and they were back in her rooms in the palace. He opened his eyes to find her staring at him with a raw longing she couldn’t hide. Everything in him pulsed; blood and magic roared in his ears, and his dick hardened.

She pulled away from you. She doesn’t want this. Not really. It’s just the magic. Don’t take advantage of it.Arkon let her hand go and moved away from her.

"Great. Great job. I’ll see you in the morning," he stammered, almost stumbling over a chair in his hasty retreat. "Night!"

Arkon raced into his own apartments, locked the door behind him, and tore off his coat. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. His body and magic were screaming at him to go back to her, but he wouldn’t give into it. He wouldn’t take advantage of her full of his magic. It was worse than if they were drunk or drugged.

His cock ached painfully. Swearing, he pulled it free from his pants. He groaned with the first brush of his hand on it. A wall full of Zarya’s posters and cold blue eyes stared down at him.

"Fuck," he snarled. He suddenly hated her for turning him into a crazy, obsessed beast for years. He hated her for making him lose all his control. For making him long for her without realizing it. For seeing into the very core of him and then pretending she hadn’t.

It was just the magic.

Arkon tore a poster from the wall and collapsed to his knees. With three hard strokes, he cursed breathlessly and came all over her perfect saintly face.

Arkon pressed a hand through his hair and tried to catch his breath. He looked down at the mess he’d made, a dark thrill running through him. He really was losing his goddamn mind. He flicked out his magic and burned the page with feral satisfaction.

When he could think again, he went into the bathroom and cleaned himself up. He couldn’t lose it every time they did magic together. He needed to find somewhere to get his shit together. He couldn’t go back to Torcello. His safe space was now tainted by her.

He washed his face and scrubbed the taste of her out of his mouth. It was only when he was pulling on a clean shirt that he saw the silver filament of power still tied to his wrist. Panic and horror turned his blood to ice.

The bond that Zahir had put on him was still tied to her. Had she felt what he’d just done?

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he chanted. He focused on the magic tie and felt the cool winter sweetness of her working her magic. He was instantly hard again. He needed to get away from her as quickly as he could.

Arkon summoned his basic teleportation spell and threw himself into the darkness.