Inara.
Inara.
Inara.
I was pain. I was lost. I was darkness.
That’s what I was.
What I was.
What was I?
Inara.
Daughter.
Inara.
Sister.
Inara.
Monster.
Inara.
Healer.
Inara.
Ray of Light.
Inara.
The night I was born, the stars died and were reborn in my eyes.
Inara.
The night I was born, a power entered the world strong enough to steal my father, to steal my mother, to open a gateway.
Inara.
I was no longer light.
I was darkness and darkness was me.
Empty, void, barren, and bereft.
The stars giveth and the stars taketh away.
You are not darkness.
In the abyss, a quiet but beautiful voice, sound made entirely of light.
You are light, Inara. You are brave and true, Daughter.
The light was so pure, so powerful, it banished the darkness entirely; it completely filled the void, until I couldn’t even remember what emptiness had felt like.
From this place I came into the world—the first, the Mother of all Paladin. And from this place you shall be reborn, Daughter. Darkness threatens the world of man and Paladin alike. Use the light well. Fulfill the purpose of this gift given to you, pure of heart and soul.
The light expanded and expanded, not only filling the void, but filling me. Every bone, every muscle, every fiber and cell. An endless, eternal light that was only partially power and fire and healing and minds. This light was far greater than anything I had ever imagined; it connected every life form, no matter how big or small, in this world and every other—extending even beyond this existence into the afterlife.
I saw the brightness and shape of the souls closest to me first: my grandmother, so full of pain and grief, but also an aching hope and wish for another chance; Loukas, who had hardened himself against all those who had hurt him repeatedly, who loved fiercely but with fear, whose heart was shattered beneath the veneer of indifference he presented to the world; and others, so many, my awareness traveling out, out, out, flying over land and sea and barriers between worlds, thinner than I’d ever dreamed possible, the light carrying me on its wings. Taking me to my sister, to my parents, and Halvor—even to Barloc, who burned with the power of too many, whose mind had been shaped into anger and hatred and vengeance—and loneliness—by others who’d carried those things with them from one world into the next. I felt acutely his desire to belong somewhere; to use the power he had amassed to find those he believed to be his real family, here in Visimperum, and then, with them, bring suffering to the humans who had scorned and eventually murdered his grandfather. Who had shunned him.
Instead of disgust or hatred, I felt only pity and sorrow for him.
I saw as she did, I felt as she felt, as her light went far beyond filling me—it encompassed and enlightened and connected. I realized for the first time the finite fragility of our lives, how easily they could be severed—but also the joy of reunion in the life to come, the peace of release and rest. Such peace that I longed to be taken there, to my true home, rather than sent back to the broken one I inhabited, so full of pain and sorrow. The feeling that came in response was no longer words, but I understood it the same as if it had been.
Not yet.
And then the light began to recede, reeling me back into my body, unspooling from my soul. But it left a kernel behind, a bright, pulsing thing that more than healed the hole inside me.
Who am I?
I am Inara.
I will be a Ray of Light.
I woke in a bed, softer than anything I’d ever slept on. I let my eyes remain shut, relishing sensation. Silken sheets on my skin. A cool, fresh breeze drifting across my face. A warm hand holding mine. And inside my breast, beneath the stunning joy of a beating heart, that pulsing, beautiful light. The gift from the Mother of all Paladin. Warmth and wholeness and rightness—again and at last.
I inhaled soft and slow, noticing a hint of lemon and mint, and opened my eyes.
A head was bent over the hand that clasped mine, his dark hair damp; when I turned toward him, the scent of lemons and mint grew stronger.
Though a part of me was surprised Loukas sat at my bedside, another part wasn’t. When I was in the light and felt his pain, I’d been given the sacred chance to see his heart—his true heart. In that moment, I’d felt something—unlike anything I’d ever felt before, except for my sister. Something so encompassing and deep, it frightened me now in the stark light of day.
I didn’t know what the tenderness that flooded me for Loukas meant for me and Halvor. How could my heart contain such hope and such confusion and pain all at once?
“Louk,” I said, quiet, hesitant.
He startled and looked up, his hand flexing on mine, his green-fire eyes flaring bright, despite the shadows that bruised the tender skin beneath them. When our gazes met and held, his eyes widened.
“Inara … your eyes … they’re…”
I didn’t have to look in a mirror to see that they glowed with Paladin fire again. I already knew my power had been returned to me. I couldn’t keep from smiling. “It’s back. I can feel it. All of it.”
I hoped he’d smile back, but instead, his jaw clenched, his eyes flashing. Oh, how I longed for the ability to sense him in that moment, to understand why he looked like he was in pain when I’d expected happiness, or at the very least relief.
“It was a desperate attempt to save your life … we hoped it would heal you … but this…” He jumped to his feet, pulling his hand from mine, and stalked across the room, his long legs eating up the floor, until he reached the empty hearth, pushing one hand against it as though he wished to crumble the stones, shoving the other through his damp hair repeatedly.
“I don’t understand.” I sat up in the bed, still in the same clothes as last night. “You seem … upset.”
He spun to face me, his hair in disarray, his eyes flashing wildly. “You were dying, Inara. I failed you. I helped you go after him, but you didn’t get your power back and you were dying right there in my arms … and it was my fault. And now you’re not only alive, you’re…” He gestured at me. “You’re Paladin again somehow. I’m not upset, I’m … I’m…” His teeth snapped shut, and he turned away once more. “We need to get you back home as soon as possible. To your sister and your parents … and Halvor.”
The name dropped like a boulder catapulted into the room. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to do. If we somehow made it back to Vamala, and I saw Halvor again, what would I feel?
Especially after what I’d experienced in the light—what I’d perceived in Loukas. The hurt he held so close, a constant companion, so familiar, I wasn’t sure he knew how to survive without the pain imbedded in every beat of his heart. I’d felt the most overpowering desire to help heal Loukas’s broken heart … Was it because it had hurt me so much to feel his pain, to know intimately the suffering he hid so masterfully? Or was it something more?
Fissures of doubt crackled through the certainty I’d felt upon waking.
When Loukas turned back again, he was completely composed, no hint of distress in his demeanor, not even a flicker of emotion in his eyes beyond indifference. “Now that you’re apparently healed—better than new, even—you might be interested in knowing there was news last night, before your … episode.”
“News,” I repeated, chilled by the swiftness with which he shut off one of the only true reactions I’d ever witnessed—though he still hadn’t been honest with me.
“Not the good kind either, unfortunately.”
Before he could expound, the door opened and my grandmother strode into the room, wearing a fresh white blouse, a leather vest, fitted breeches, and leather boots up to her knees. Her hair was scraped back in its familiar bun, her mouth pursed, creating deep grooves around her lips. But when she saw me sitting up, her face lit up.
Then her eyes met mine.
Her eyebrows shot up, her mouth dropping open into a small O of shock.
“Y-your eyes…” she stammered. I had a feeling she never stammered.
“Have you ever heard of the luxem magnam doing that?” Loukas sauntered over to my grandmother, his head cocked to the side as though he found the return of my power amusing—not life-altering.
I wanted to shout at him, to stand and beat my fists against his chest, to elicit any sort of genuine response from him, not this terrible mask he wore with such ease.
Instead, I pulled the sheets back and slid off the bed, facing them both, the stone floor cool on the bottoms of my feet.
“No,” Grandmother breathed. “I didn’t know such a thing was possible. I knew it could heal if someone was chosen to receive that gift by the light … but this? To return her power?” She stared and stared. Before what happened in the light, it would have made me uncomfortable, nervous even.
Now, I straightened my shoulders and said, “She spoke to me,” keeping my eyes on my grandmother, but I could see Loukas in the periphery of my vision.
Grandmother hesitated before asking. “Who spoke to you?”
“The Mother of all Paladin. In the light.”
Grandmother reeled back, going white as the wall behind her.
Louk froze, the carefully curated insouciance on his face slipping into incredulity before he could smother it.
“She is the one who healed me and gave me my power back.”
“That … that’s not…” Louk’s mouth opened and shut several times, the fire in his eyes flaring as bright as I’d ever seen it.
“The Mother of all Paladin?” Grandmother repeated when words failed him. “As in the First Paladin, who was born from the luxem magnam a thousand generations ago?”
“Yes,” I confirmed. “She said she was the First, the Mother of all Paladin. I heard her voice in my head. And I felt her light. It … it was indescribable.”
Grandmother pressed her hands to her mouth, eyes gleaming. Then she rushed forward, opening her arms to me and taking me in them, squeezing so tight, the air was forced from my lungs. I held on to her just as tightly, having experienced the sorrow she also held so close, the cracks in her heart that had never healed. When she released me, it was only to draw back enough to lift one hand to press against my cheek.
“Inara … my beautiful Ray of Light.” When she smiled it was a soft, wistful thing; an expression of awe, but also regret and sorrow. “You must truly have a pure heart to have been given such a gift. I can see now why Zuhra fought so hard to get back to you.”
Zuhra. Who probably thought she’d lost me—yet again. Her life force had been very far away, but I’d sensed turmoil, grief, even agony in the brief glimpse I’d been given of her in the light.
“She is the one with a pure heart,” I said, thinking of how I’d lied to her, how I’d deceived my whole family to try to steal my power back. I wasn’t sure why the light had chosen to give me this gift when I certainly didn’t deserve it. “I know you must do what needs to be done for the good of all. But I do hope to get back to her … someday.”
“Speaking of that,” Loukas said. “Has there been any further word on the murders?”
Grandmother winced. I pulled back from her touch, turning to Loukas.
“What murders?”
He leaned against the wall, his expression shuttered once more, his arms folded across his chest. “Five Paladin, all found with their throats ripped out—like wild animals had attacked them.”
Ice slicked my veins, turning my blood cold. “Barloc.”
Five more Paladin? Could his body truly have withstood that much power?
“We don’t know it was him for sure,” Grandmother protested. “There’s still the chance it was a rakasa attack. They were all found in a town that borders their lands. Attacks there are common enough not to rule out.”
“You know it was him. And if it’s true—if he now wields the power of eight Paladin—there is no one who will be able to stop him.”
Grandmother ran a weary hand over her face, pressing her fingers to her temples, a gesture I was beginning to recognize as one she used when she was under great stress. “No one could survive that much power.”
Though my stomach roiled, and I was nervous to admit it after their reaction to knowing the Mother of all Paladin had spoken to me, I didn’t dare withhold the information that could lead us to him in time to stop him from hurting others. “I felt him,” I admitted quietly.
“What was that?” Grandmother sputtered.
“When I was in the light … I could sense … everyone.” Trying to explain it out loud made me realize how ridiculous, how impossible it sounded. But it had happened, and though I didn’t know this world well, I knew the direction of where I’d sensed him. “I recognized him. If you show me a map, I can give you a general idea of where he is. At least, where he was when I was in the light.”
Loukas stared at me, a muscle in his jaw tightening. “You felt … everyone?”
Grandmother’s eyebrows lifted again, uncertainty crossing her face, but she only said, “There’s a map in the council room. We can go there right now.”
I followed her into the hallway, Loukas falling into step behind me.
“What do you mean you felt everyone?” he asked again, but I didn’t respond, choosing to let him mull that one over for a bit.
Grandmother led us to the same room where the meeting had taken place the night before, though the table and chairs were all empty once more. She marched over to the far wall, where a large map hung.
I came up beside her, examining the drawing, trying to orient myself.
“This is Soluselis,” she said, pointing at a large city on the map. “That’s where we are.”
I stared at the spot she’d pointed at, trying to figure out how to pinpoint where I’d felt Barloc’s presence.
“Well?” Loukas prompted from behind us, all impatience and doubt.
“I’m not sure,” I admitted, heat creeping up my neck, into my cheeks. “Perhaps if you could take me back to where I was last night when I was in the light, I can point the direction I felt his presence.”
“You can point?” Loukas scoffed, but Grandmother cut him off.
“That would be helpful—it’s better than trying to guess.”
We all headed back out into the hallway, but this time we used the connecting hallways that led us into the center of the castle. As we walked, I felt a pull, a presence of sorts, drawing me toward it. So familiar and powerful, even if Grandmother hadn’t been walking the direction it came from, I wasn’t sure I would have been able to resist it.
Then, up ahead at the end of the hall, I noticed a glow. The pull grew even stronger; it attached to the kernel of light and power inside me, filling me with warmth and a need to hurry, to get to the source of that glow faster. It took all of my willpower to force my feet to walk, not to dash ahead of Grandmother.
When we entered the room, I faltered to a stunned halt. I’d never seen anything so beautiful in my life. Glittering diamond balustrades encircled the center of the room, refracting the light that filled every inch of space with its glow and power. Slowly, reverently, I moved toward the origin of the light, held back from walking straight into it by the diamond railing.
“This is the luxem magnam. The birthplace of all Paladin power, where the First Paladin—a male and a female—were born out of the light, each with three gifts of power, thousands of years ago,” Grandmother said, her voice hushed. “This is where we brought you last night, in supplication to heal you, when no one else could succeed in saving your life.”
Tears welled in my eyes as I stared down at the beautiful, undulating light. The power she’d gifted me pulsed beneath my heart, filling my body with warmth and life. The luxem magnam glimmered brighter, as if it recognized me.
“We laid you in the light and prayed for you to be saved. The healers all failed … and you were dying. There was nothing else we could do. I never dreamed…” Grandmother’s glowing Paladin eyes met my own.
“Thank you,” I whispered—to her, to Loukas, to the luxem magnam. It was insignificant, impossibly inadequate, but it was all I could offer in gratitude for the gift I’d been given.
I held on to the banister, the diamonds cool beneath my hands, and let the light wash over and around me. Grandmother fell quiet, and even Louk stayed silent, as I stood there.
Finally, I forced myself to turn back to her and said, “Where was I when you brought me here?”
“When we laid you in the light, your head was back there, and your feet were here.” Grandmother pointed.
“How did you lay me in there, with the banister in the way?”
“Loukas held you and climbed over it.”
I noticed a shudder go through Louk out of the corner of my eye.
“Thank you,” I repeated, turning to him.
He didn’t respond. His face was a mask, but his green eyes gleamed in the rippling light of the luxem magnam, searing through me with their intensity. Heat unfurled in my chest, quickly dropping to settle low in my belly, completely different than the warmth from the luxem magnam or the power I finally had back; it somehow ached inside me, sending my heart slamming against my ribs.
Unsettled and flustered, I faced the banister once more, willing the coolness from the diamonds to send the unfamiliar sensation away.
“Can you tell us where you felt him?” Grandmother prompted.
I nodded, with a slow exhale to calm my still-pounding heartbeat, unsure why it was continuing to race—or why it had started to in the first place.
“If I was lying that way, then I felt his presence that direction.” I pointed across the room.
Grandmother followed where I pointed and her hopeful expression fell.
“That’s the direction of Folten,” Loukas said, the first words he’d spoken since we’d come to the luxem magnam. “Where the bodies were found.”
“Yes,” Grandmother confirmed, defeated. “It was him, then. As we suspected.” She turned to me. “Loukas told us last night that ever since Barloc stole your power, you have a connection with him—that you see flashes of where he is when he uses it. Have you seen anything? Any hint of what he’s doing or where he’s going?”
My eyes narrowed on him. Why had he shared that without asking if I wished for the Paladin here to know it? He refused to meet my gaze. “No, I haven’t seen anything. I’m sorry. I’ll tell you if I do.”
There was a pause, then Loukas pointed out, “Folten is one of the closest cities to the gateway. It can’t be a coincidence that he’s there.”
Tension rolled off Grandmother in waves, disconcerting and out of place for such a sacred place—a room where peace should have held supreme. “If he can tear portals between our worlds with a Paladin knife and his power, I don’t know that it matters where he is in relation to the gateway anymore.”
“Unless he’s trying to bring others with him. The portal he made only lasted for a few seconds—and the expenditure of the power to do it left him unconscious.”
They shared a dark glance, and then without a word, Grandmother strode out of the room. Loukas quickly followed. Though I wished to linger, to absorb more of the healing, comforting light of the luxem magnam, I reluctantly hurried after them.
“Didn’t a battalion already leave to investigate the bodies?” Loukas was asking.
“Yes, but I’m afraid one battalion won’t be enough after all. We need to send as many of our forces as we can spare. He must be stopped.”
While Grandmother called together the members of the High Council once more, I asked Loukas if he would take me to see Sukhi. He agreed, but did so with a scowl. I tried not to let his obvious irritation sting.
“What does it mean to be marked by a gryphon?” I asked as we walked back to the stables. It was hard to believe it had only been six or seven hours since I’d collapsed in front of her stall. How could someone change so entirely in such a short time? I’d gone from empty, weak, frightened, and alone, to healed, full of power and hope, even purpose.
He took a few more steps before deigning to respond. “It’s how a gryphon picks their Rider. It is an unbreakable bond between the gryphon and the Paladin they choose—one only death can sever. And even then, the survivor will feel the loss tremendously. I’ve heard it described as having a piece of your soul rent apart.”
I thought of how I’d sensed the sorrow within Sukhi last night, how I’d been drawn to her—how I’d felt prompted to comfort her. Had it been because I was meant to be her new Rider? Was that why she’d chosen me so quickly after losing her previous Rider, something Grandmother had been shocked by? The wound she’d given me was healed, presumably by the luxem magnam, but a scar remained—a reminder of the bond she’d sealed upon us when she marked me.
“Will you teach me how to be a Rider?”
Loukas stiffened. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
Another unexpected sting. I tried to ignore it. “Why not?”
“It just isn’t, all right?”
He lengthened his strides, storming ahead of me.
The fissure of doubt from earlier that morning cracked even wider. I thought we had started to become friends, but it seemed I was mistaken. Though I was afraid I was only inviting him to inflict more hurt upon me, I forced myself to hurry and catch up.
“Louk … wait…” I managed to reach his side and put my hand on his arm. I’d only been trying to slow him down, but he slammed to a halt and spun to face me, glaring at my fingers on his sleeve. “Are … are you mad at me?” I managed, despite the obvious anger on his face.
“What are you playing at, Inara?” he bit out, yanking his arm away, so sharply it startled me.
“I … I don’t understand…”
“I didn’t think it possible, but you are even more naïve than your sister was,” he spat, and turned to storm up to the stable door, pulling it open with so much force, I was afraid he might rip it clean off its hinges.
I stood there, staring at his retreating back, baffled and embarrassed, unsure if I dared press forward and continue to reach out to him. He obviously wanted nothing to do with me.
A flicker of memory rose unbidden, the pain I’d felt in the light—his pain.
Nervous and uncertain, I forced myself to go after him—one last time.
The stable was a different place in the morning. Other Paladin bustled about, leading gryphons from their stalls, or bringing armfuls of dead rodents to them. Loukas was easy to spot, taller than nearly all of them, his dark hair a beacon in the sunshine that gleamed through the skylights and windows—that and the way everyone avoided him, turning their faces away, moving to the other side of the path, creating a wide berth around him. He was surrounded by activity but had never looked so lost and alone as he did standing in front of Maddok’s stall, resolutely ignoring them all.
I moved slowly toward him. When I passed Sukhi’s stall, she had already pushed her head over the door and clacked her beak at me eagerly.
“Just a second, girl,” I murmured, continuing on past her.
I was certain Loukas knew when I walked up to him—I was the only one willing to stand by his side, it seemed—but he refused to acknowledge me, continuing to rub Maddok’s neck methodically.
“I’m sorry I upset you,” I said.
He ignored me, but a muscle in his jaw jumped as if he’d clenched his teeth.
“Thank you for saving my life,” I continued, refusing to be cowed. The old Inara would have been too scared to press on. But something had happened to me in the light, a newfound courage pumped through my veins along with the Paladin power. It wasn’t infallible. But it was there, and I clung to it as his fingers curled into fists in Maddok’s feathers.
“You want to learn how to be a Rider? Go get a saddle and put it on Sukhi. Meet me out front of the stable.”
With that, he opened the door to Maddok’s stall, walked in, and slammed it shut on me.
I stood there for a moment before spinning on my heel, in search of a saddle. Perhaps, if we got away from all the other Paladin—if he really was willing to teach me how to ride—I could figure out what I’d done to make him so angry.
I had to ask another Paladin to help me put the saddle on Sukhi. She’d seemed concerned and a little bit suspicious when I tried to convince her the gryphon had marked me.
“You aren’t a Rider,” she’d accused. “I’ve never seen you before.”
“She’s telling the truth,” Loukas had said as he stomped past, Maddok on his heels.
The unknown Paladin had jumped back, out of his path, her eyes widening. But she’d retrieved a saddle for me without another word and told me how to hook the straps around Sukhi’s torso. Luckily the gryphon held perfectly still for me. Once I’d double-checked every strap, she followed me out of her stall, then down the pathway to the open doors out of the stable.
“I don’t really know what I’m doing,” I admitted to her in a whisper, “so try to make this easy for me, all right?”
She hooted softly, butting her beak into my arm as if she actually understood and meant to reassure me.
Loukas stood by Maddok’s side, a tall, dark thundercloud waiting to break in the middle of all that lush green grass and brilliant sunshine.
“You managed to do it. I’m impressed.” His tone said otherwise, but I smiled sweetly at him as Sukhi and I stopped a few feet away.
“I’m a fast learner. I’ve had to be.”
Something crossed his face, a wisp of some emotion far less caustic than those he’d exhibited so far, but before I could pinpoint what, it was gone.
“If you’re going to be a true Rider, you will have to get on and off your gryphon by yourself. No more help from me.”
But in typical fashion, he didn’t tell me how exactly I was supposed to do that. He merely turned to Maddok, easily climbed into the saddle, and sat there, waiting for me.
I faced Sukhi and whispered, “How do I get on your back?”
She gave me a nudge with her beak. I swallowed and walked around her folded wing to her flank. There was no stirrup, like I’d seen illustrated on a horse, something I’d never thought to miss before now—when Loukas had always given me a boost into the saddle before climbing on behind me. And though Sukhi was a bit smaller than Maddok, she was still enormous, far too tall for me to yank myself up and over her back. Perhaps, if I’d been practicing all my life and had built up the muscle necessary to do it …
But I hadn’t. So instead, I stood there, staring up at the impossibly high saddle, defeated but refusing to admit it.
Then Sukhi bent her front legs, lowering her body much closer to the earth—and to me.
“Thank you, girl,” I murmured, as I easily grabbed onto the edge of the saddle and jumped, so that my stomach landed on the top of the saddle. From there, I pushed myself up and swung my leg over her other side. Once I was seated, I gathered the reins in my hands and held on tightly as she stood back up fully.
“I did it,” I announced unnecessarily.
“Cheater.” Loukas shook his head, glowering at my gryphon.
But I didn’t care. I grinned like a fool at my victory—at our victory. We were already working together as a team.
“Now we fly.”
“Now? You don’t have any instructions to give me? There’s nothing I should know before we just—”
“Nope,” Loukas cut me off. “Experience is the best teacher. At least, that’s what my parents told me.”
With that, he pushed his heels into Maddok’s sides, and the gryphon leapt forward, taking off after just a few bounds across the field, quickly gaining height to miss the hedge that was even bigger than the one at home.
“Well, Sukhi … here we go.”
I clutched the reins in hands that were suddenly damp, squeezed my legs as tightly as I could, and imitated what he’d done, pushing my heels into her sides.
When she jumped forward, it nearly unseated me, but I managed to cling to her back as she took two more bounds and then leapt into the sky, her wings unfurling and catching the updraft, carrying us off the ground with a swoop in my stomach and a lurch of my heart into my throat.
As the world fell away, and Sukhi’s wingbeats turned rhythmic, smoothing out the jerkiness of takeoff, my stomach settled back down where it belonged. My heart still raced—but now it was with exhilaration, with the realization that I was flying by myself on my gryphon’s back. I felt as though I could reach up and brush the sun with my fingertips, letting sunshine drip down my arm and coat my body with its warmth.
I felt invincible.
Loukas and Maddok soared away, over the gleaming rooftops of the city surrounding the castle. I tugged on Sukhi’s reins to guide her in the same direction. Once the homes and bustling streets gave way to fields and then forest, he glanced over his shoulder and lifted one eyebrow, his mouth curving into a sly smile.
Then he yanked Maddok’s reins and the gryphon cut sharply to the right, so we soared on past them, now heading the wrong direction.
I quickly followed suit, and Sukhi dipped her wing, cutting back to follow after the other pair. The suddenness of the movement took me by surprise, and I slid partially off the saddle with a half-swallowed scream. But I squeezed my legs harder and managed to stay on the gryphon. Pride and irritation beat in equal parts through my blood.
He’d done that on purpose—to test me? Or to lose me?
As soon as he saw us behind him once more, he repeated the maneuver, but to the left—and this time I was prepared for him. I immediately signaled Sukhi, and we chased after them for the next several minutes, as Maddok cut and dove, twisted and then climbed nearly straight up into the sky. I had to press myself flat onto Sukhi’s neck, gripping my saddle with every ounce of strength I could muster in my legs to avoid slipping off her back and plummeting to my death in the forest far, far below.
But no matter how badly my muscles trembled, or how slick the sweat on my hands made the reins in my grip, I refused to fail at whatever test this was.
Finally, after yet another nosedive—where Loukas only signaled Maddok to level out mere feet above the treeline, barely giving us a chance to do the same or crash through them—he pulled back on the reins and let the gryphons slow, coasting on the wind that whipped my hair back and stung my eyes.
“Is that all you’ve got?” I shouted, hoping he couldn’t see the way my legs shook, my muscles quaking from strain.
He threw back his head and laughed. A sound of such abandonment, it took me completely by surprise. And despite my irritation with him, I couldn’t resist the deep tenor of his laughter and found myself joining in. Sukhi released a piercing caw of triumph.
I’d done it. I’d managed to succeed at every curve and challenge he’d thrown at me.
We’d done it, I corrected myself, reaching down to pat Sukhi’s neck.
“There’s a stream up ahead where we can let them get a drink,” Louk called out to me, pointing.
We followed Maddok, soaring over the treetops until they thinned and then opened into a small clearing where there was indeed a narrow stream, just as he’d promised.
Sukhi landed right after Maddok, but Loukas had already climbed off and stood there, arms folded as Sukhi bent her haunches down once more, so I could get off without having to jump as far. When I landed, my legs wobbled and nearly gave out.
I threw out my arms, but before I could catch myself on Sukhi’s body as I’d intended, Loukas was there—just as he’d been that first night in Visimperum by the pond. He grabbed me with both hands, his fingers encircling my waist, so we stood mere inches apart.
A shadow crossed his face. “I pushed you too hard. You’re not going to be able to walk tonight—let alone tomorrow.”
I stared up at him, the heat of his hands scalding through the thin material of the pants and tunic I wore. Louk’s green-fire eyes met mine and held. His fingers flexed against my waist and my breath caught in my throat. Fire raced beneath my skin, hot and heady. My legs trembled, but I wasn’t certain if it was still muscle fatigue or something else entirely.
His eyes raked over my face, pausing on my mouth. My heart slammed against my ribs. I’d never felt anything like I did in that moment, as though I were drowning, but in a way that made me never want to surface again, sinking into a forbidden pool of heat and want and need.
“Do you have any idea what it was like?” He finally spoke, low and sharp, his gaze moving back to my eyes. “To think you were going to die in my arms—knowing it was my fault?”
“It wasn’t—”
“I was terrified,” he cut right over me, his hands moving farther around my body, to clutch my back, drawing us even closer together. “And that scared me more than I’ve ever been in my entire life. Why did I care so much?” Louk’s eyes blazed, one hand stroking up my spine to my neck, before plunging into my hair, tilting my head even farther back. “Why do I care so damn much?”
I swallowed, staring up at him, unable to speak, hardly even able to breathe. My body burned with a nameless need that was at once foreign and achingly familiar.
“Inara,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to my lips again, sending the heat in my limbs pooling in my belly. “Ray of Light. You weren’t supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen.”
My mouth parted, but before I could summon the will to speak, his head dropped and his lips crashed down on mine.
My arms had been limp at my side the entire time, but as his mouth moved in ways I hadn’t even known were possible, I reached up to grasp onto him, clinging to him as urgently as he gripped me.
When he parted my lips and his tongue delved into my mouth, I moaned, my already-trembling legs almost giving out entirely. Louk’s arm tightened around me, crushing my body into his, partially lifting me from the ground so only my toes brushed the earth.
Where the few kisses I’d shared with Halvor had been sweet, tender even, this kiss was as similar to those as the moon’s light to that of the sun. Louk’s kiss was desperation and need and demanding, but also seeking and asking and surrender and flame, and it burned through me, searing my soul in a way I hadn’t even known was possible.
Fire raced beneath my skin; it coursed through my blood. In his arms, I was fire.
A distant corner of my heart whispered that I should end this, that it wasn’t fair to Halvor, but then Louk was pulling my shirt from my pants so his hand could skim the bare skin of my back, and any drop of reason left burned away with his heated fingers stroking my spine.
His mouth left mine, moving across my jaw to the sensitive groove just below my ear. He brushed his teeth against the tender skin along my neck, eliciting an involuntary gasp. Louk’s fingers skimmed my ribcage, sending a fiery shudder of need through me.
Encouraged by his actions, I imitated what he’d done, tugging at his shirt so I could run my hands up his muscled back. A shiver went through him, his arms impossibly tightening even more around me. An entirely different kind of power rushed through my veins, intoxicating, heady. The power I held to make him respond to my touch—to me.
I dragged my nails across his skin, and he growled, deep in his throat, moving back up to recapture my lips. I met him kiss for kiss, our mouths crashing and moving together in a dance as urgent as it was insufficient. I wanted more, I never wanted this moment to end—
He suddenly broke away, setting me down and backing up so quickly, I staggered forward a few steps before I managed to regain my balance, my legs still quivering from the flight—and what had just happened between us.
Loukas stared at me, his eyes darkened to evergreen flame, his chest rising and falling.
The breeze from the stream where our gryphons both had laid down to drink and rest cooled the heated rush of my blood, sending a chill skittering over my skin.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said at last, low and gruff.
“Don’t,” I said. “Don’t do this.” I took a step toward him, but he backed up, a muscle in his jaw tensing. I halted but refused to look away or back down. “I’ve never experienced anything like that before in my life—and I would bet you haven’t either.”
Louk winced, but said, “You mean Halvor never made you moan like that? I can’t imagine why not.”
“Stop it,” I bit out, stalking toward him. He kept backing up as I advanced, but when he reached the bank of the stream, he had to stop or step into the water and soak his boots. “Don’t you dare do that. Not now, not after that, not with me.”
“It was just a kiss, Inara. It didn’t mean anything.”
“Like hell it didn’t,” I said, repeating a phrase I was pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to know, but it felt like the right thing to say in that moment. His eyebrows rose. It struck me as funny that hearing me curse was what surprised him after everything else I’d—we’d—done.
I stopped mere inches away from him. His chest rose and fell, his muscled shoulders tense, defensive; his shirt was damp, sticking to his sculpted abdomen. Though his expression was guarded, there was a flash of true fear in his eyes, a vulnerability that sank like a hook into my heart, yanking on it—yanking on me—until his pain became my own. “When I said I felt everyone … I meant it,” I said, more softly. “I felt you, Louk. I felt everything.”
He shook his head, the vulnerability in his eyes chipping away at the mask he wore as if it were truly him—and not what hid beneath his façade of indifference. “You … you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I reached up to his face. He flinched, but I persisted, stroking a piece of his dark hair back from his forehead.
“I’m so sorry for the way you’ve been treated. I’m sorry for the hurt you’ve had to endure, because of a power you didn’t ask for and often wished would go away.”
“Stop it.” The words scraped out brokenly. “Please.”
But when I cupped his jaw, he closed his eyes, leaning in to my touch. “I don’t know what is between you and Sharmaine”—his eyes flew open again at that—“but if she hasn’t been able to see past the façade you present to the world to the amazing heart you have beneath all of that, then she is a fool.”
Louk’s jaw tightened beneath my hand and his eyes gleamed in the dappled sunlight of the clearing. He stared down at me, his beautiful, haunted gaze raking over my face, his mask stripped away, his pain laid bare.
“I see you, Loukas,” I whispered, my own vision blurring at the emotion that filled my heart, so unexpected and so powerful, it hurt. “I will always see you.”
He shook his head again, but instead of arguing, he closed the distance between us—not to kiss me this time, but to wrap his arms around my waist, pulling me against his body, to bury his face in my hair. I clung to him as he shook, a lifetime of hurt and pain breaking free of the iron grasp he’d had to learn to wield against it.
I held him as tightly as I could, as Loukas, the strongest person I’d ever known, broke down into sobs.