Heir of Stardust and Secrets (Mythic Spark #1)

45. What about Intent?

Chapter 45

What about Intent?

T haddeus didn’t seek me out that night. I’d tossed and turned, not only because my burdened mind surged like a tempest, but from the unfamiliarity of his absence from my bed. Although, I wasn’t entirely certain I wanted him to fill that empty space.

I was grateful I’d missed them at breakfast and secretly hoped Thaddeus returned too late from their daily errand of searching for the fae realm for us to train—I couldn’t, wouldn’t, share the spark with him again.

The weight of the tome on my lap reasserted itself, drawing me back to what lay before me. A delicate corner of parchment sat idly between my first and second fingers, their heat wrinkling it slightly.

Scanning the page, I found the place where my mind had abandoned the words and continued translating, forcing myself to concentrate.

I’d taken to scouring tomes for tracking spells like the one Thaddeus had used to find me countless moons ago. Nothing he’d tried had led them to the elusive magical object, and I wanted to try a different tact .

My goal wasn’t to merely find a similar spell and beg a boon from it—no, it was to understand as many spells of its essence as possible and discern if there were patterns, commonalities—a way to not just blindly say the words, but to understand how source power was transformed through incantations, verbal or not.

It was slow work, and possibly a fool’s errand, but I couldn’t help thinking that if my magic liked to be its own artist, this knowledge could provide the right colors and substrates for it to paint what I needed it to.

My untouched lunch warmed as it sat on the outdoor table, now flooded by sunlight. Leaning back in my chair, my eyes traced the intricate patterns of the gardens from the veranda. Thaddeus should return soon, and I’d failed to brace myself mentally. Instead, I tried to dispel all thoughts of him and had stooped to counting the hedge’s blooms.

The familiar sound of multiple hoofbeats drew near. Craning over the stone rail, I saw Thaddeus and Tarrin riding in tandem.

Worry slid through me. Where was Nevander? And why were they coming straight to the palace instead of stopping at the stables? I rushed down the wide sandstone staircase to meet them.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, my eyes flitting over them for any signs of harm as they approached the landing.

Without a word, Tarrin slid off his horse, handed his reins to Thaddeus and brushed past me, sending me a sly wink as he went by. Odd. What did that mean?

“Ride with me, Nyleeria.” It wasn’t a question, and Thaddeus’ voice held an edge of demand.

I crossed my arms, meeting his piercing gaze. “I’m not dressed for it.”

Thaddeus cocked a brow, and rightfully so. We both knew my attire had never been an obstacle before. In fact, I’d trained in this exact outfit many times.

“I want to show you something.”

I kept my feet firmly planted.

He dismounted, every inch of him the imposing ruler I’d seen at the Summer Court—only, now, he’d allowed frustration and anger into his eyes.

“Get. On. The. Horse. Nyleeria.”

“No.”

“Now.”

“I said no, Thaddeus.”

He took a step toward me, reaching to grip my arm, and I backed away, pulling from him before he could connect.

His eyes narrowed and a muscle twitched in his jaw. With forced calm, he said, “I need you to get on the horse.”

“I don’t care what you need,” I quipped, surprised to realize I meant it.

“Get on the horse. Now.”

“Stop talking to me like I’m one of your simpering soldiers. You don’t command me.”

He took a half-step forward, anger palpable. “I am the king of the human realm. Simpering soldier or not, I command everyone on my lands.”

“And if I were like everyone else, you could speak to me as you see fit. But I’m not. Unless there’s another who you take to bed, and who holds the fate of your realm within her. If there is, I suggest you go fetch her instead.”

Thaddeus shook his head with a quick movement, eyes widening, as if just realizing how he’d been addressing me. Softness returned to his eyes, and the mask of the ancient king slowly melted away.

“Please,” he said in a soft, breathy whisper, offering a hand.

Something in his expression made me yield. Not my anger—that would not be soothed so easily—but my resistance .

Ignoring his hand, I looked past him, taking in the beautiful creatures that currently served as his backdrop. Swallowing, I said, “Horses don’t like me.”

“You’ve ridden before?” He seemed surprised.

“I’m not sure you could call it riding, but yes, I’ve been atop a horse many times. I just don’t tend to stay on them.”

Amusement danced in his eyes, and he chuckled. I couldn’t help myself as a smile tugged on my features too. “It’s not funny,” I said.

“Well, it’s lucky you’re riding with someone who’s been around horses since birth. And if experience alone fails us, I have other methods to calm them.” It took me a few heartbeats to understand his meaning, the implication. I’d never seen him use spellcraft to manipulate emotions, but I supposed it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about it and tucked the detail away for later. There were more important matters at hand—like how I was going to stay on the horse.

“Okay,” I said with a sigh.

The remaining vestiges of tension lifted from Thaddeus as he twisted to face the stallion Tarrin had dismounted. He motioned for me to approach the massive beauty.

“What’s his name?” I asked, readying to stroke its side.

“This is Tarrin’s horse, Luca,” he answered with deep fondness.

“Hi, Luca,” I said, tilting onto my tiptoes to reach as high as I could to brush my hand down his neck in one long stroke. “I’m Nyleeria.”

Luca was a striking pinto, his coat a patchwork of light and dark reddish-brown markings woven together. His broad chest resembled a white field of untouched winter, a stark and welcome contrast to the warm tones gracing the rest of him. The markings on his legs gave the illusion of two elegant stockings in the front, paired with more modest socks adorning his hind legs. His tail, a shade darker than the auburn that painted his body, flowed gracefully behind him. Completing the mesmerizing tableau were his eyes—deep wells of topaz that seemed to harbor keen intelligence .

“What is he…” I assessed, mentally calculating. “Sixteen hands?”

A tug of a smile. “Seventeen,” Thaddeus said, unable to keep the pride from his voice. He looked at me, mischief glinting in his eyes. “Someone should teach you how to measure, lest you get certain details wrong.” He winked.

I rolled my eyes, and in that moment, I forgot to be angry.

The soft rhythm of Luca’s steps was therapeutic. Despite being astride such a powerful creature, his gentleness surprised me. I couldn’t help but attribute it to Tarrin’s evident prowess in horsemanship. I supposed five centuries of equestrian experience had to count for something. My earlier misadventures with horses made me wonder if they could sense my latent powers. Perhaps Luca, accustomed to immortals and the intricacies of spellcraft, was simply unphased by such things.

As we journeyed, the landscape transformed seamlessly from vast open fields, peppered with signs of agriculture, to serpentine trails that cut through dense groves of aspens. The gentle murmurs of creeks and streams became familiar interludes, their waters shimmering as they wound their way across the land.

The farther we rode, the more a nagging sense of familiarity slowly crept in until our destination was unmistakable—we were heading toward my family’s cabin. Swirling memories and emotions fought to surface, but I pressed them down, unwilling to give them the oxygen they craved.

Since mounting, silence had lain thick and heavy between us, so at odds with the companionable quietude I’d grown accustomed to with Thaddeus. As we rode next to each other, I caught him stealing glances and could feel his eyes upon me for most of the ride.

I ignored it, ignored him. I wasn’t about to discuss anything with him while mounted. I’d made the mistake of not marking my surroundings in the Summer Court, and I wouldn’t make the same mistake as we traveled lands I hadn’t crossed before—at least not while conscious, anyway. This must have been the path they’d taken that day, the day when my family—the day we met .

Clearing the trees, I took a breath, captive to what lay before me. Spanning far and wide was a crystalline lake nestled at the base of the mountains, as if the peaks themselves cradled the majestic body of water in the palms of their hands. The teal and blue hues of the lake were so vibrant and surreal they seemed borrowed from an artist’s palette, and its surface captured the snowcapped range’s reflection like a canvas across its pristine surface.

“Beautiful, no?” I jumped, not realizing Thaddeus had dismounted and now stood beside me, offering a hand.

I accepted the help and shifted down Luca to the rocky shore that teemed with rocks in soft blues and greens and purples. The gravel churned under Thaddeus’ footfalls as he tended the horses.

Feeling chilled, I untied the sack he’d left at my feet and smiled inwardly as I found a folded sweater. Slipping it over my head to shield against the crisp air near the glacier-fed water, I silently thanked Ava for her kind consideration.

Returning, Thaddeus leaned into me, and I flinched away before realizing he’d just wanted to relieve me of my bag.

Shock, hurt, and confusion crossed his features, but he didn’t say a word as he took the rucksack and stepped away, holding my gaze.

I grimaced inwardly, and a tight knot of anxiety settled in my stomach. I didn’t know what to say or why I’d reacted so viscerally. My anger had softened as we’d crossed the lands, and I knew we’d invariably work through what happened, but my body reacted in a way my mind couldn’t comprehend.

Feeling a complicated mixture of confusion and regret, I caught his gaze and said, “I’m sorry.”

A sad smile joined the other emotions still written on his face as he made to take my hand in his. The impulse to retreat surged through me, and with every fiber of my being, I forced myself to stay put. His eyes softened when he realized I’d grant him access.

When his hand was a hair’s breadth from caressing mine, I pulled away, the instinct impossible to staunch, like someone flinching upon their flesh touching a scalding pot.

His eyes widened, and I could have sworn indignation replaced all other emotions.

“You’re afraid of me,” he said.

He was right. I was afraid of him. Of touching him. The last time we’d been skin to skin, he’d taken something from me. Or I’d given it to him. I didn’t know which it was. Both, maybe? I couldn’t stop him yesterday, and it was at his mercy that I had experienced pain like never before.

I looked down at my palms, remembering how they’d clung to his muscled back—the inability to pull away, the helplessness. Not lifting my gaze, I swallowed, forcing myself to find words as my heart pounded. “I’m…I’m afraid of touching you, afraid that...I’m…”

Stars, what exactly was I afraid of? How could I describe it?

“I’m afraid of what happened yesterday happening again,” I said simply, not sure what else I could offer in explanation.

He tilted his head in confusion. “Yesterday was a success, Nyleeria. I don’t understand where this is coming from.” His voice was soft, calm, questioning.

“How could you possibly think yesterday was a success?” I blurted.

“How could you think it anything but? Did you not see the power I wielded? How I connected to your energy? That’s exactly what we were trying to do.”

“And look what it did to me, Thaddeus.”

“But you’re fine. I don’t understand. The first time you wielded your power, you almost died and didn’t hesitate to train again.” The intensity in his eyes deepened as he continued, “ I was the one who beseeched you to not try again. The one who had to point out the severity of what had happened to you. Yes, you got sick yesterday and needed some time to recover, but I don’t understand how you were okay with almost dying that first time, but not okay with what happened yesterday.” Genuine confusion danced in his eyes.

It took me a moment to process his words. He was right. Everything he’d said was true. And, objectively, I could agree with the logic, but it wasn’t the same as before; yesterday had been different, although I couldn’t articulate exactly why.

“Thaddeus,” I said, my voice soft. I wanted to tell him how it affected me, but I didn’t want to make him feel guilty, or to attack him for what had happened. Neither of us could have foreseen it—besides, it was my idea. I wanted to explain, to find the words. Needed him to understand why it was different, for his sake, and mine.

“When you tapped into my power, you pulled from me. The second you cast your spell, it—” I took a breath, remembering the pain. “It felt as if I’d been stabbed with a dagger.” His lips narrowed a fraction. Was it disbelief? Was he trying to understand? I wasn’t sure what the subtle change meant. “I no longer had control of myself. You’d taken over me. I couldn’t scream, move, I coul—” My voice broke, but I steadied myself. “I couldn’t stop you. I wanted to stop, Thaddeus, but you kept taking and taking. And then, when you finally released me, when you released the spell…” I hadn’t planned on explaining any further, didn’t want to, but he was just staring at me, waiting. Had I not explained it clearly enough? “Thaddeus, you were… It was as if you were high on my power and couldn’t see what you were doing to me. For you, it was…exulting. But for me, it was violating.”

After a few heartbeats, he said, “So, you’re okay with almost dying because it was you wielding the power, but you’re not okay with merely getting nauseous when I wield it?” The words felt cold, as if I’d offended him.

“That’s not what I said, and it’s an oversimplification.”

“Is it?” He paused, as if waiting for me to challenge him. I didn’t. “Allow me to simplify all of this for you, Nyleeria.” The way he said my name felt like slick oil running down my spine. “As I see it, you haven’t been able to fully tap into your power. Gods know we’ve tried.” His voice was peppered with frustration and a touch of arrogance. “And I am sorry if that upsets you, but you said it yourself before you had me tap into your source—which you insisted on, I’ll remind you—saying we don’t have the luxury of time. Ask yourself, Nyleeria, is it so violating to share your power with me that you’d rather refuse such a thing and put our people, our land, at risk? Put yourself at risk?”

I wasn’t sure what to do. What to say. I had said those words. Was it possible that he was right? That I was just being dramatic?

Before I could respond, he said, “When we were training, you said you’d rather endure this so you never have to endure Amos again. I guess the question is, who do you find more violating, Nyleeria: Amos or me?”

His words hit like a blow, and I blinked in surprise. “That’s not fair,” I said in protest.

“Isn’t it?” Again, he paused to see how I’d respond. If I’d push it. But I kept silent. “You said I violated you, Nyleeria, and now you won’t let me touch you. You know how I feel about you, and for you to say that word, the same word you used to describe Amos...”

Stars, I was beyond confused. Yesterday, it was clear—I’d never do that again. But as he looked at me, as his words sank in, I didn’t know what was right anymore. What to do. One thing was certain, though.

“You’re angry at me,” I said.

“I’m upset you didn’t consider my intent, Nyleeria.”

He was right. I should have given him the benefit of the doubt. Besides, he had no idea how it was affecting me in the moment. How could he? I was out of my depth, and standing before me was the most patient and kind man I’d ever met—and he cared for me . Tarrin even implied Thaddeus’ feelings ran deeper for me than he’d allowed himself to show.

My body was still alight with warning, every cell wanting to disengage, flee. But I’d run too often when things got hard, and there was no hiding from this, from any of it, so I ignored the urge. Thaddeus was right; it had felt violating, but he wasn’t the one who’d violated me. And maybe we could find a way for it to feel less harrowing the next time.

Biting down on my every instinct, I reached out a hand and placed it on his face. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Yesterday scared me, and I projected that on you. Blamed you. I’m sorry.”

“Me too. I’m sorry it felt as it did for you.”

He placed a hand under my chin and tilted it up to kiss me. Not deep. Not long. But one that reconnected us.