Wind & Wildfire (Mages of the Wheel) by J. D. Evans

Author:J. D. Evans [Evans, J. D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, fantasy
Publisher: Whippoorwill Press LLC
Published: 2022-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Twenty

OMAR PRESSED HIS FOREHEAD AGAINST the carved doors once they were shut again, folding his arms above his head and closing his eyes. It was all jumbled inside him, joy and lust, anger and crushing despair. His pulse raced, and his skin felt seared down to his bones. The magic had fought him, fought control he was not accustomed to exacting, like a muscle unused and suddenly strained to the brink.

It had hurt to touch her, and it had been revelatory. Like he had not been alive until he’d felt her skin and her breath and heard the secret, coaxing warmth in her voice. And then it was all gone. That look in her eyes had turned to disgust.

There was a feeling in his hand like hers was still there, her fingers entwined in his, and he closed his fist, afraid for it to fade, because he knew he would never have it again. It would be someone else’s hand, someone else’s voice and he…did not want that. He wanted her bright mind and her confidence and her unflinching expectations. Something wrenched down on his chest, warning that if he tried to inhale he would fall apart.

He had waited a decade for this. To be fixed. To be whole and capable of touching someone. But he felt more broken, and the only one he wanted to touch would probably never even look him in the eyes again.

The door bucked as someone pushed from the other side. Omar stumbled back. It opened to reveal Behram had returned.

“She is well?” Omar said, though he did not want her name between him and Behram. He wasn’t a fool. He could see she mattered to Behram far more than a friend. Behram did not answer immediately, looking at Omar in cold assessment, and Omar felt shamefully laid bare by the look.

“I have never asked you for anything,” he said. Omar could tell his friend was angry, but was unnerved by the silence of his magic. Behram had never been one to hide his power.

“No,” Omar agreed. Dread sank where despair had been.

“Whatever you are doing with her, end it now. Leave it. You cannot have her anyway.” Behram said each word carefully, and barely moved as he did.

“I know that,” Omar said. The fire came then. First lighting Behram’s eyes, turning the brown to amber, then in little flames around his fingers. Omar did not fear Behram, and never had. Fire could not burn without air, a commodity which Omar held vast control over. That was, he thought, one reason Behram respected him, chose him as a friend. Behram honored power above all else, and in their relationship, the power belonged to Omar.

“Then you should never have allowed anything at all between you.”

“This is not your concern,” Omar said, his own temper swirling up in a storm of magic all too ready to be released. It did not matter that Behram was right. He had hurt her, and it was because he was selfish.

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