Page 17 of Sustaining
Right now, I wouldn’t mind just a touch of silence, though. Just the smallest, beastly smidgen of silence.
Is that too much to ask?
“Fuck Brenton.” Rime growls the words out, his arms folding across his chest, and Chaos’ lips pull at one corner with a half-smile at the sound of his friend’s words.
“No. Not fuck Brenton. Fuck us if they wake up to a floating fleet of demon magic and chase us out of here. Orworse. They know what Sinister is. They’re just hoping he passes through without causing trouble. Being a demon isn’t a crime. But fear of those who are different will always bring out the worst in people. They fear him. Just like they fear me. And it’s only a matter of time before something bad rises from that fear.”
Chaos’ pretty gaze softens the moment my desperate words quiet. With one big step, he pulls me hard against his chest. My tired eyes close for only a moment, and I let him hold me, let him dissolve some of that rising anxiety in me. His strength gives me the illusion that every little thing in my life will be okay.
If only he knew all thelittle thingsI push aside in my memories.
In my life, I’ve been accused once or twice, but it’s never escalated to something bigger. Sure, being burned at the stake sounds a little…big. Ish. But if those villagers had paused to alert the authorities, my life could have been over. My mother always told me about the two girls she’d grown up with. In Warf, there were three mages who were all friends. One was a beautiful and enchanting mage. King Barren himself oversaw the young woman’s death sentence. Somehow, they bled her out with something more powerful than simple magic. As a young girl, I was told the bedtime story of how this woman died a slow and bleeding death until her magic as well as her soul disappeared just as Barren saw fit.
The other friend ran, choosing a life of solitude rather than death. I’m told she was a distant relative of the Solstice Queen, but that’s all I know of her.
My sweet mother, she pretends her magic doesn’t exist at all. She chooses to pretend she isn’t who she was truly born to be just to keep her life. A beautiful part of my mother lies dormant and dead inside.
King Barren may have only murdered one woman, but he killed them all in a way.
And that, that is what keeps me careful.
“I’ve seen the looks. She has to be cautious, Rime.” Chaos glances toward the ice dragon, and his calming words don’t do a thing to change the hard, glaring look in the shifter’s frosty gaze.
I know how Rime would solve a problem if anything bad were to happen here. And violence is probably not the solution… Yet.
“So, I’ll wait until tomorrow night and do another. And another. Each night until there’s enough, Yeah? It won’t take long. We just have to be patient.” Sinister nods as he tries to reason with Rime. Pale-blue eyes slowly shift toward Sin with a look of total frustration. The demon and the ice shifter might be friends, but they’re worlds apart. Sinister has the patience of a saint. Our relationship alone is a shining example. He waited for me. More than that.
He saved me all those times I thought I was drowning in the life I’d made.
And he’s still here, doing everything in his power to help me after all these years.
“Fine. Let’s get some sleep, and we’ll do this all over again tomorrow night.” Rime turns to leave, but my palm against his biceps stops him in his tracks.
“Actually, we still need to stain it with a fresh coat.”
I extend an old rag to him, and his quiet gaze drops to the towel. His lips part, but his hand doesn’t lift to take the thing.
“You literally have magic, Arlow.” His voice never raises. It’s an even tone of repressed exasperation, but the tone never reaches or trembles the way a normal person’s would.
“I-I like it. I like staining. And painting.” And cooking. Anything to work with my hands really. I guess it’s how I was raised.
His pale eyes narrow on me, studying my features as if he’s seeing me for the first time all over again.
That’s a lie, I suppose. The first time this sweet fucktile laid eyes on me, he looked like he was annoyed with me from the very start. Now that I know him, I think he was intrigued. He’s just really good at hiding it.
His fingers drag over mine, touching me more than is necessary, not that I’m complaining. The rag slips away, but his index finger trails down my palm ever so slowly. Rime makes the smallest touch feel sensual. He pulls away all too soon.
“This is like a date then?” Chaos’ voice holds an excited tone to it.
“Just like a date.” I nod to him, and his perfect smile only grows.
“This is not a date. This is very much free labor, don’t let her fool you.” Rime’s gaze shines with amusement, his lips never lifting into a full smile.
But he does get to work.
An hour passes in the night, and the four of us barely cover the front half of the fresh wood in the deep-cherry stain. Chaos and Rime whisper together a few yards away on the dock, while Sinister and I stand on the flat roof of the steam rooms. I watch them as Chaos gets a mischievous glint in his eyes before he throws the saturated towel with a slick slapping sound, covering the front of the ice shifter’s shirt with that deep brass color. Rime and every single muscle in his body tenses the moment the rag hits him. Rime’s head tilts down ever so slowly at the splattering stain on his white shirt. He seems to be trying to decide if that actually just fucking happened or not. He lifts his quiet attention, and that dangerous look rakes up and down the other shifter’s body, and Chaos only clings to his cocky smirk. Rime stalks toward him. Chaos never backs down. They meet each other, eye to eye. Challenging looks and tense posture hold in place.
I swear if they start fighting right now and destroy this ship, I’ll make them actually use axes tomorrow as punishment.
