Page 48 of Bound By Fury

“What?”

“Well, in books, whenever someone wants to find someone using magic, they always use an object that belonged to that person.”

Embarrassment made my eyes water, but I bit my lip to stop it.

“I don’t have anything of my dad’s.”

He scooted closer to me, using his arms and left leg to drag the prosthesis behind him before grasping my face between his palms, his eyes boring into my own.

“That’s not true,” he whispered, his hand snaking up to push a curl back from my face. His fingers crept farther, toward the crown of my head.

“What are you doing—” I asked before yelping and scrambling backward.

Between his fingers was a single coiled strand of chestnut-brown hair.

“You’re a part of him,” Kai said matter-of-factly. “More than any old piece of junk he might have left behind.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“N-Not that you-you’re a piece of junk… I just mean—”

“I know, it’s fine,” I snapped, and took the strand of hair from his hand.

Lucas stood at the edge of the creek, leaning against the tree he climbed out of as he watched us, a curious glint in his eyes.

Together we placed the hair within the circle and held hands. I don’t remember exactly what we said, ’cause in the end, the circle didn’t work. But I knew, without a doubt, that my secret hopes and most fanciful dreams were safe with Kai.

But not anymore.

Now, he feels like a stranger. And I don’t trust strangers.

“I—” I say, shaking off the memory. “It’s nothing.”

He pinches his bottom lip between his forefinger and thumb. “Didn’t seem like nothin’,” he drawls.

The way he’s looking at me is much too intimate. Like he can see the scatter of thoughts blasting through my head. Like he’s peeling back all the layers of armor I’ve built thanks to him.

It’s still late August, but the moon is at its peak, and the breeze is suddenly frigid against my still-damp clothes. I cover my chest with my arms and pump my knees, squirming under his scrutiny.

I’m certain he can see the gooseflesh sprouting across my skin from the way his eyes rake down my body.

He sighs in a frustrated sort of way before shrugging off his jacket and wrapping it around my shoulders.

His scent is overwhelming. I try not to breathe him in as I slide my arms through the sleeves and let them fall past my hands and cover my fingers. “Thanks…” I’m not sure what to say.

“What kind of outfit is that anyway?” he grunts, gesturing to my pajama shorts and thin top.

“I didn’t know about the… you know,” I say, flicking my thumb toward the litter left behind by Invocation Night.

He glances at the fountain. “It’s late,” he mutters, and I nod, stepping back to put some space between us.

He regards me carefully, like I might spook and run away.

As the silence lingers, heat burns the tips of my ears.

Without speaking, I turn and begin walking back to my dorm.

“Why did you come here?” he asks, voice rough.