Page 60 of The Incendiary

Smiling bashfully, she trailed her fingers down my abdomen, lingering over the dark chest hair across my pectoral, then following the trail down to my navel. She stood close enough that her short breaths stuttered across my skin.

I didn’t want her to stop. It was pure, beautiful torture.

My eyelids fluttered closed when the tip of her finger met the top of my belt.

Keep it together.

“Swimming?” I asked, voice strained.

She blinked multiple times and stepped back. “Sure. You start. I’ll watch.”

I jumped right in to cool myself off from more than just the heat. While I swam, she sat on the edge of the rock, bare feet dangling over turquoise waters so clear you could see the bottom. The sun’s rays danced in the water’s lazy flow. Below me, the rocky floor dropped off sharply. Where I stood now, I could reach it, but she wouldn’t be able to.

I hoped she would join me, but her heart-shaped face was drawn tight in thought. Something was bothering her.

I reached into the back pocket of my pants beneath the water, retrieved a silver coin, and rested it in her lap. “For your thoughts?”

Her eyes watered. “You remembered that?”

“Of course.” I folded my arms on the rock and rested my chin on top. Was no one listening to her in that castle? “I remember everything.”

She hummed nervously. “That sounds like a lot of work.”

Not when you’re all I think about.

“What’s on your mind?” I rephrased.

“Nothing.” She shook her head and forced a smile. I suspected she’d grown accustomed to forcing her smiles. “It’s your birthday.”

“Then, for my birthday, I’m asking you to tell me what you’re thinking about.”

Her delicate throat flexed with a swallow. “I should tell you something.”

My mind started to race with what it was. She had a betrothed. A lover. An injury. An illness.

“I have… powers,” she admitted.

My mouth opened and closed a few times before I managed, “Please go on.”

Sharing details about her secretive life was a risk she chose to take, despite hardly knowing me. I wasn’t sure I’d ever understand what I’d done to deserve her trust, but I wouldn’t squander it.

She primly folded her hands in her lap. “I have a power for each of the twelve gods.”

My heartbeat whooshed in my ears. I’d only heard of magic, never seen it. From her, mostly. Her uncle’s spells and potions, her mother’s clairvoyance, Molochai’s corrupted shadows.

Gracelessly, all I could offer was, “Twelve?”

“You don’t believe me.” She stared at her hands, uncrossing her legs to stand, lost to her panic. “I shouldn’t have⁠—”

“Ella.” I stopped her with a hand on her knee. “Of course I believe you. Why wouldn’t I?”

She warily searched my face. She was flighty, so eager to give her trust but quick to withdraw it at the slightest sign of betrayal. She longed for companionship but was told she couldn’t trust anyone. And could I blame her? Twelve powers? On top of being the future queen? It had to feel like an insurmountable burden.

I patiently held her gaze until she finally relaxed. “Will you show me?” I asked, brushing my thumb over the bare skin of her knee. “If you want.”

“You want me to show you?”

“Of course!” I shouted a little too excitedly. A few birds scattered from the trees, but she finally smiled and laughed again. Worth it.