Page 20 of Maiming
Clearly, she wasn’t paying enough attention to what she was doing or that wouldn’t have happened.
Thick blood starts to slip down her fingers and the moment I see it, my magic rises up on instinct. My lips thin with a sigh, and I force myself to release the waiting power. My hand lifts with my fingers arching toward her gashing wound. The very moment my fingers move, releasing a stream of white magic, the blood halts. Lord Carlin looks up at me at the same moment Brylee does. Her brows are pulled together with confusion and pain. Just as I’ve done dozens of times in my life, I heal the woman. Even if I do hate her with every part of my being. The droplets of crimson slide right back up her fingers, racing one another to get back to the starting line. Another tic of my hand and the wound seals itself slowly. It mends. It’s a strange thing to heal something that would normally take weeks. The process is the same, only at a rapid warped pace. The same scabbing lines the wound, and then the same pink scar, and then I go above and beyond, and the skin is perfectly healed. A single thin white scar is left on her otherwise flawless fucking skin.
My eyes lift to hers. She looks down. And then up. And then down again.
“My goddess. You’re a healer?” Myla’s voice holds an astounded sound and Helen’s big impressed smile matches that of … nearly half the people at the table. “That was incredible, Arlow.” I look to Myla and the smile I give her is actually genuine.
Because not many strangers in my entire life have applauded the use of my magic.
Because I’ve never shown it.
That big hand slips back into mine, claiming me with just a simple touch. Kain squeezes and I look up into his shining eyes. The happiness on his lips is kissable. He leans closer, his mouth brushing mine as he whispers to me and me alone.
“You’re more incredible than a single ounce of that magic that you’ve obsessed about all your life, Arlow.” My heart pounds when his head dips lower, his lips pressing to mine so slowly I ache in the deepest parts of my body for his kiss.
Then that clattering sound strikes again. I look up at the fuming woman.
You know who doesn’t think I’m incredible?
Yeah …
Brylee’s lips are pursed so hard I swear her face might crack wide open and release all those hateful thoughts she keeps in her petty little mind.
Kain and Chaos are so strong, the thought of anyone hurting them—especially her—stabs a pain right through my heart. And I can’t help but let the woman who’s currently staring a hole through my head ruin this evening for me.
I hate her. I don’t know one single personal thing about her actual personality, but I hate her. And I’ll try my absolute best to fit in with Myla and Helen, but I’m not going to sit here and pretend to like this bitch.
As calmly as I possibly can, I push back my plate of half eaten salad.
“I’m going to get some air,” I whisper to Kain.
“You’re outside, try again, Low.” Aggie doesn’t look at me as she says it, taking another big gulp from her glass.
I cock a brow at my snarky friend.
“I’m going to go sit with Sinister. He looks lonely.” My words are stiff and I wait for Agatha to weigh in on my new excuse.
“That’s much better, dear.” Aggie nods and I roll my eyes at her.
Kain’s hand lingers in mine as I stand and he slowly releases it, dragging his fingers along my palm as I walk away. He almost makes me want to stay, just to feel his hands on my body.
Almost.
It’s colder once I’m in front of the house and the structure is no longer blocking the wind. Sinister doesn’t move as I climb the two stairs and settle in at his side. A beat passes and finally I lie back against the cold wooden porch. Bright white stars line the inky sky above us and a sliver of a moon keeps them company. It’s pretty to look at; it’s easy to get lost in the shining beauty of the sky above.
“Tired of pretending?” His question is spoken in a quiet, even tone.
“I’m not pretending.” My brow scrunches, but I never look away from the heavens above.
“Well, I wouldn’t say you’re not, you’re just not very good at it.”
My lips tilt. That’s true I guess.
He turns, shifting against the boards until he’s looking down on me, his head propped against his palm. My heartbeat is a loud thudding within my chest once he leans closer. I swallow hard and pull my attention away from the pretty stars to stare up at the handsome man above me.
His hand lifts, his gaze straying down to the curve of my hip. Carefully he places that hand down between us, splaying his fingers against the dark stained board like he’s feeling every grain instead of touching me.
It’s hard for me to watch him think about every little thing he does around me. We used to be so in tune with each other. So carefree.
