Page 33 of Tangled Power
She said nothing.
“He was never found. His family still mourns.” He paused. Maybe now she would see him the way the rest of the Compass Points did.
“You didn’t mean to do it?” Rose asked quietly.
He shook his head. “That’s not the point.”
The look she gave him made him realize she would outlast him on this.
Luc grunted and answered her question. “I don’t remember doing it. I mean, you felt it. I was trying to get to Aaron. But as you’ve seen, that wasn’t the only time my magic got away from me. It was, however, the last time Loch’s villagers were willing to deal with it.”
He wiped his hand down his face. “Anthony was the village leader’s son. He came to my mother’s house that night and tried to arrest me. He said he’d sent for the Suden Point and wanted to have me in custody. Little did he know Michael was on his way before the message was sent. He’d felt my magic when it toreinto the abyss, as the villagers say. He showed up the next day—not to arrest me but to name me his successor.”
“Neither you nor Michael could close the hole?”
“You’re missing the point, Rose. My magic—I—killed him.”
“I know you believe that. Honestly, I’m sure that’s what the continent believes too.” She reached for him slowly, giving him time to move away. He held still, barely breathing, while wondering what she would do. She couldn’t ignore what he was saying.
Her hand was warm and soft over his. She squeezed it, urging his fist to unclench as she intertwined their fingers. “I’m sorry about what happened. I’m sorry Anthony died. But this certainly isn’t going to drive me away, Luc.”
His shoulders fell with the breath he let out. How could this be her response?
“Have you tried to close the hole again?” Rose echoed her earlier question, presumably moving their conversation forward. He knew her well enough to recognize and value when she made up her mind on a topic.
Luc shook his head, his power straining toward her, obsessed with her understanding. He tugged it back into place as he replied. “I’ve tried many times. I’m not sure what I did, but I don’t have a way to undo it.”
“That makes a lot of sense given the little I could evaluate of your power. Your protectiveness took over—you were working so hard to push it down that when it got free—it erupted.”
He met her gaze, squeezing her fingers as he went to pull his hands back, unsure where to go from here. She held his fingers tighter. “Next time, let’s please not wait until we’re already in the village you grew up in before you share a story that the rest of the Compass Points already know.”
Luc raised an eyebrow at her again. “Why are you so calm about this?”
She squeezed his hands again. “I know what it’s like not to understand what your magic is capable of—with no one to help you figure it out. I may not have hurt anyone with my wind, but I assure you, I wouldn’t have had a way to control it should it have risen to my defense.”
He guessed that was true.
“I also know what it’s like not to want to talk about something in your past,” she said. “I wish you could have shared this with me at the moment of your choosing instead of having to tell me because of this journey.”
“Rose,” he whispered, “I want you to know everything about me. It’s harder than expected to tell you the things I’m not proud of. Things that might make you realize the rest of the continent have reasons for their beliefs about me.”
“There are a lot of things I’ve learned about you since meeting that you shouldn’t be proud of.” She smiled coyly. “Assuming I couldn’t possibly be the weapons master you sought and attacking me in the woods both come to mind.”
He rolled his eyes. He wasn’t proud of those instances either—but she was already aware of them. They weren’t something new he had to explain. She had chosen him despite those failings—how many more could he expose her to before she rethought her decision?
Her face turned serious. “I obviously can’t tell you how to feel, but losing control of your magic as a child doesn’t make you a monster.”
“You know it’s more than that,” Luc said.
“Yes, a child lost his life. The consequences were tragic. I am sorry it happened that way and that you had so little support with your power. But you learned to control it—maybe not in the healthiest way.”
“In that, our childhoods are somewhat similar,” he said. “You had no help with your wind, and I had no help with my”—he gestured wildly with both hands— “whatever this is.”
She leaned forward and kissed him. It was deep and thorough and stopped far too quickly for his liking. She was already pulling away when he registered her question.
“Now, truly, tell me why we have separate rooms.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
