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Keelen
The sun blazed above Keelen, burning his eyes as he glanced at it. He looked away and studied Silver as she rode her horse around him, its hooves pounding along the grass that surrounded the boulder he sat on. His ass was numb from the stone, and his memories remained locked away.
Silver's pale cheeks flushed pink from the heat. Since Keelen had agreed to be her guard, he wasn’t going to let her out of his sight. On her chest, her scar stood more prominent than ever. A raised jagged design that looked more like a painting. The way she must have received it couldn’t have been beautiful at all, but ugly, harrowing.
Blood coursed through Keelen, running straight to his cock, while he watched her. His pants were becoming more and more uncomfortable as each moment passed. He didn’t even know how many lovers he’d had before. None? One? Hundreds? Thousands?
Silver’s guard, her weapon, that was what he was supposed to be. Besides, he was sure Afton would rip his cock off if he brought Silver to his bed ... or her bed. But why did he care? He imagined his hand running up her bare breast, in between her thighs, the wetness of her core pooling around his fingertips.
Fuck, he needed to stop watching her.
Rising from the ground, he adjusted his pants and turned to head toward the palace. Anywhere but out here. He needed to throw a few hatchets and daggers to take the edge off, the lust.
“Where are you going?” Silver asked, her horse whinnying when it came to a stop in front of him. She pulled on the reins as the horse stomped its feet on the moistened grass.
“Weapons room.” He was supposed to be watching her... Damn it. “Care to join me?”
Keelen met her gaze and she stared down at him, her lips parted. He missed her dark locks of hair already, but even with the white-blonde strands, she still looked like herself, only closer to a bright star than an alluring shadow.
“You’re asking me?” She grinned.
“I suppose you would have just followed me in, correct?” The edges of his lips tilted upward.
Silver hopped from her horse with swift grace and planted her feet onto the earth. “All right, but I want you to practice riding Midnight first. Since you’re going to be Afton’s guard, you at least need to know the basics.” She reached forward and swept his hair out of his eyes. “I can trim your hair if you want.”
That morning, he’d noticed himself in the mirror and had frozen when his gaze fell to the lashes, the dark brows, the matching hair that had almost fallen in his eyes.
“You don’t have to.” His heart kicked up a notch, a strong sensation pulling at his chest from the tapping of the magic. Keelen still couldn’t grasp it, and he wondered if perhaps he wasn’t ever meant to. He tried not to think about what he might do with its power if he could.
“It will be easier for you to see.”
“I suppose, Your Highness.” He gave her a mock bow.
“Ah, you know just what to say.”
Fighting back a smile, he shifted his attention to the horse. The thing looked unstable, and he wasn’t sure if he could even last two seconds on its back. He honestly just wanted to throw the horse into its barn.
“Have a steady hand and hold on tight.” Silver nudged him forward. “Do you need help up?”
“Are you being serious?” He glanced back at her with a brow lifted. “I’d crush you to death.”
“We’re practically the same height.”
“If there was another half of you, then yes.”
She rolled her eyes and brushed her palm across the horse’s throat. “His name’s Midnight.”
“I’m not sure he’s naughty enough to have a name like that.” As soon as he gripped the reins and was halfway on Midnight, the horse reared its legs and body, tossing Keelen to the grass, flat on his back. A sharp pain radiated up his spine while the blue sky above stared down at him. A deep chuckle escaped his lips.
Above him, a shadow slid forward, blocking the sun and eclipsing his view of the sky—Silver. “You should have taken my offer,” she sang.
She held out a hand, wiggling her fingers. Grunting, chest heaving, he gripped it and stood. Her skin was soft, her hand small and delicate in his grip. He imagined slowly scaling his own fingers up the length of her bare arm, and quickly released her hand, his heart racing again.
“So,” Keelen drawled, peering at the stallion. “How should I get on him then?”
Silver ran a palm beneath Midnight’s throat like before, gently stroking the area, then brought her hand up and weaved her fingertips through the horse’s mane. “Just show him you’re his friend and aren’t only using him for the ride.”
A crease formed between Keelen’s brows as he studied Midnight’s dark eyes. “Isn’t that what they’re used for? To go places?”
Smiling, Silver took a step back. “Well, I like to make it an even trade. Feed him, brush his hair, and anything else he needs.” She paused and gave Keelen a wink, one that made him hard once more. What was wrong with him? “Afton’s horse, Ivory, keeps him company in the barn. I think he likes her a bit more than she likes him though. Remember that time when we— Never mind.” Her tone came out rushed as she shook her head.
That time when we what? Keelen wanted her to finish her sentence, but she wasn’t looking at him anymore.
“I think it would be easier to walk,” he finally said to splinter the quiet.
“Try crossing the territory and see if you can get there faster than me on Midnight’s back,” she challenged.
Keelen imagined trying to keep the pace with the horse’s quick strides and giving up sooner than he would have liked. “I see your point.” He moved closer to Silver, her rosy scent enveloping him, and he was tempted to shift even closer. But he didn’t.
Lifting his hand, he repeated the same motions she’d done to Midnight by gliding his hand up the horse’s throat, then ran it through its mane. With his shoulder at the horse's neck, Keelen gripped a handful of Midnight's mane down at the withers. Drawing in a deep breath, he mirrored Silver by taking a skip and a jump and swinging his right leg over the animal. He blinked in surprise when Midnight merely stood in place, only releasing a low neigh.
“Good,” Silver said, sounding impressed. She gestured with her hands while lightly kicking at the air with her foot. “Now ride.”
Keelen flicked the reins and pressed his boots into the horse’s belly. Midnight jolted forward across the field, as if he were flying through the clouds.
“Pull the reins back toward you!” Silver yelled, barreling after him.
The stables were approaching, and Keelen realized he was getting too close, so he listened to Silver. Midnight slowed to a canter, then a trot before halting. A horse was as much of a weapon as the ones he’d used inside the castle.
Silver caught up to them, her loose hair disheveled from the wind. “That was good. You’re almost a natural.”
“Almost?” Keelen chuckled and hopped down from Midnight. He gave the horse a rub between the ears before Midnight trotted into the stables.
“I mean, you did need my help.” She laughed.
The sweet, musical sound hit his eardrums, and he had to get out of there. “Weapons room now?”
“Sure.” Silver shrugged and walked beside him at a leisurely pace as they headed indoors. Once again, he puzzled over the strange skeleton paintings hanging on the wall.
“It’s said the paintings represent a place in Torlarah that used to be known as the Bone Valley,” Silver said softly. “For a time, the people there were cursed as bones before the land was returned to its former glory.”
“Why keep the memory alive then?”
“So we remember never to take anything for granted.” Silver smiled.
Keelen nodded, thinking about what she said, wondering if he’d taken things for granted in his past. He continued to observe Silver until they entered the weapons room. As if on instinct, he removed the hatchet from the wall, the weight just right in his hand. He hurled it forward, aiming true. While he went to collect it from the creature’s chest, he found Silver skimming her fingers across the weapons on the other wall.
“Are you going to keep touching them or use them?” he asked with a smirk.
“I’ll have the mace in Enare, so the war hammer would be pointless to practice with today.” By the way her fingers twitched as she studied the weapon, she desperately wanted to curl her hand around its handle.
“Get the war hammer.”
Without a word, she lifted the weapon and stopped beside him. Closing her eyes, she breathed steadily for several moments, focusing. Opening her lids, she let the hammer fly. The sharp end buried itself deeply into the wooden beast’s chest.
Damn.
“Even if I wasn’t able to throw it, I could use the magic to help me.” She shrugged. “But that would feel like cheating right now.”
“I can feel the magic here, but I can’t draw it forward,” he said.
“You may never be able to.” Silver plucked a mace from the wall, the spiked ball a glistening gold. She twirled it in her hand. “Let’s grab something to eat first?”
He took a deep swallow, watching as she exited the room. To distract himself from her movements, he grabbed a jeweled dagger and tossed it forward.
For the first time, he missed.
That night, after practicing long hours with Silver in the weapons room, Keelen lay in bed, inspecting the vial Afton had given him. The green liquid practically glowed within the glass. He’d almost forgotten all about his gift. It seemed to stare back at him, urging him to drink it down, and see what Afton had meant when she’d said, For Silver.
“Damn the temptation,” Keelen grumbled as he reached for the glass and uncorked it. He’d expected the smell to be unpleasant, but a rosy scent—like Silver—caressed his nostrils. With a flick of the wrist, he tossed the contents back into his mouth. The liquid was cold like ice as it slid down his throat. He waited for the rush of something to burst through him, or even the magic of the earth to sing harder. But he, the room, and everything in it, remained the same.
A glimpse of Silver flashed through his mind. Her beside him, wielding the mace, him wanting her pressed against him, clothing off. Fuck. His hair fell forward into his eye and he shoved it out of the way. Silver had mentioned cutting his hair, but after the long day, he’d forgotten. Perhaps he could go to her and let that lead to something more—their naked skin flushed with one another—so he could stop this lusting.
Fine. Keelen pushed up from the bed, placed the swords at his back, and headed out into the hallway. He passed several servants who watched him questioningly, perhaps a bit flirtatiously, while he made his way to Silver’s room. She’d pointed it out to him earlier before taking him to his. As soon as he stood outside her door, he rapped his knuckles against the wood.
She didn’t answer.
A few violet and white flowers rested in vases on the wall. Keelen was tempted to grab them and bring them to her as a ... what? Gift? Flowers in exchange for a fuck? He didn’t take them.
Keelen cradled the sides of his head, trying to remember how he was before. Remember anything. At that moment he wanted to shred his skull apart and piece everything back together to see if that would help.
Cradling the knob, he turned it and the door pushed open. She’d left it unlocked. He could see why Afton would want a guard for her sister if Silver couldn’t even manage to lock a door. Someone could easily walk in. Like him...
As Keelen slipped inside, he peered around her room. The walls were painted a pink and black with a matching canopied bed. Everything looked ... messy. Clothing strewn across the floor, bedside table with papers scattered. Her bed was rumpled, pillows thrown on the floor, as if she’d fought someone... He froze. Had she been attacked? Taken? When he was supposed to be guarding her.
A rustling echoed just ahead. He pulled a sword from the sheathe at his back and rounded the bed, where he found another door with candlelight spilling out from the bottom. Fumbling sounds stirred from inside.
Keelen rushed to the door and wiggled the handle. Locked. A crash reverberated on the other side. As he was about to ram his shoulder against the door, it flew open. Silver surged out, barreling him to the ground.
Silver was on top of him, her razor teeth released, her claws digging into his shoulders, her hair wet. The blacks of her irises eclipsing the white and blazing with a glittery sheen.
“It’s just me,” Keelen rasped, his sword still in his hand against the floor. “Your door was unlocked.”
Silver’s eyes cleared, her teeth and claws retracting. “Sorry, I didn’t know it was you. And I didn’t know I had left the door unlocked. Sometimes I leave it like that for Afton.” She quickly released him and stood.
Keelen already missed her soft body pressed against him. Pushing up from the floor, he tucked the sword at his back. He studied her reddened cheeks, then his gaze dropped to a silky robe wrapped around her. The upper swells of her breasts greeted him, and he yearned to push the cloth back, to expose everything so he could explore with his tongue, teeth, and hands.
“You should still always keep it locked,” he said, struggling to keep his voice even.
“I’ll remember that next time.”
With her wet hair swept back, Keelen could see every single curve and feature of her face. The scar on her chest stood out even more than when they’d been outside. But not more than her red lips. He wondered what it would be like to kiss them now ... had wondered it for years. What? Why was he thinking about years? He’d meant day...
“Did you need something?” Silver asked, fiddling with the tie at her waist.
“You were going to cut my hair earlier.” Keelen didn’t know what else to say. He was still busy thinking about the years.
“Oh, follow me.” She walked back into the bathroom, with him trailing behind her, and motioned for him to sit at a stool in front of an oval mirror. Preserved butterfly wings of different colors circled the glass.
He slipped inside the room and watched as she picked up a comb, running it through her locks. Sinking down onto the stool, he straightened his spine while Silver took the same comb to him.
“I’m not the best at cutting, but I can trim a little.” She bit her lip and grabbed the scissors, her eyes settling on his in the mirror.
Magic hummed harder within him as she cut chunks off at his brow, his loose curls bouncing. Then she clipped a few areas at his nape before setting the scissors down. She pushed her own hair behind her shoulders, and he imagined the strands were back to the color of a night sky. The way it always was, when he’d been nestled in her hair.
Keelen stilled, swallowing deeply. Nothing else came to him. Brushing off whatever was going on, he placed his hands around her wrists and gently pulled her toward him, to where he was level with her. “I wanted to tell you something.”
His hands started to shake, perspiration coating his palms. Why was he getting nervous?
Silver blinked, her dark eyes dancing with amusement. “You look as though you’re about to propose.”
“What? No, I...” Fuck. He slid his hand to her cheek as he’d rehearsed in his head earlier, dragging it slowly down to her neck, across the scar on her chest, letting his palm linger. She sucked in a breath but didn’t move away. The texture of her chest was uneven but still so soft, more delicate than he’d imagined. For years. His fingers trembled at that.
Keelen couldn’t read her thoughts but badly yearned to. “I want to kiss you.”
Her eyes widened. “We shouldn’t.” But then she edged closer, her warm breath brushing his mouth. “We should.”
Licking his bottom lip, he leaned forward and closed the distance. His hand slid up the back of her neck until his fingers entwined in her damp hair.
Keelen’s lips caressed hers while hers mirrored his. He parted them with his tongue and something inside him seemed to be fracturing. A low moan escaped her throat when his tongue flicked hers, tasting all that he could. She shifted closer until she was in his lap. He drew her nearer, allowing her legs to wrap around his waist. The kiss deepened, while his hands cradled her face, claiming her mouth for as long as he could. He then scaled his fingers to the open slit of her robe.
Keelen’s hands wanted to feel every inch of her skin, as did his mouth, desperately. His finger trailed down to the valley between her breasts, then he teased Silver, as well as himself, by drifting it up to her scar. “Tell me what happened.”
Her gaze caught his, her white pupils dilated. “My parents made Afton do it.”
He froze. “Couldn’t she have made another choice?”
She shook her head. “No. They would have taken something worse from me if she hadn’t done it. So my sister made the decision I would have wanted her to make.”
“What happened to your chest?” Keelen asked as he sat nestled against her neck, wishing he could feel her warmth.
Silver took a spider out from the jar and pushed it into his beak. “Let me start from the beginning. My sister isn’t the villain, she’s the hero.”
Keelen blinked, unable to catch his breath. He couldn’t... He couldn’t do this. Biting the inside of his cheek, he lifted Silver off him.
“I need to go. I shouldn’t have come.” His chest thrummed and hummed and sang. Blood coursed through his veins as if going straight to his heart, his head. Silver in various ages stood before him—a younger girl, a woman he found to be more beautiful than the most perfect rose. And he remembered.
“Wait!” she called after him as he hurried out the door.
His chest heaved when he stumbled and rounded the corner, not giving her a chance to catch up while he continued down the halls.
Throwing open the door to his room, he sank to his knees on the plush carpet. He’d always wondered what it would be like to have Silver’s lips pressed to his, their tongues intertwining. But he’d always been in a wax raven form while with her. The bits and pieces unfolded, wrapping around his mind, squeezing tightly. More and more and more. He remembered ... loving her. Always loving her.
Keelen loved her so much that it had hurt at times because the form he’d been in wasn’t that of a man. He may not have remembered where he’d come from, but he always knew what he was, a male hidden inside a shape that wasn’t meant to align with her body. Loving her was a secret he’d always meant to keep. And he’d just fucked that up.
How did he suddenly remember? His gaze drifted to the empty vial beside his bed. Afton. She’d known what she was giving him and hadn’t said outright what the glass contained. What if he’d never chosen to drink it? Would Afton have even told him? He bet she wouldn’t have.
All he could feel and think about now were those brief moments of Silver’s lips on his, her legs spread around him. He’d told her just yesterday that he never wanted to come back if he died, but the truth was, he would gladly die over and over to see her again. Even though Silver had brought him here to be Afton’s weapon, he was never meant to be hers. He was always meant to be Silver’s. Afton had gotten that part right when choosing him to be her sister’s guard.
Something else nagged at him, growing stronger with each passing moment. Something dark, attempting to rise to the surface, but it was still too far away to grasp.
