Forged in Frost and Fire (Book 1 in the Chronicles of Kings trilogy)

Chapter Thirty Three

Licorice brushed my bare legs as I went to the door and peered through the opening. My eyes adjusted to the dim light. There was a grand piano in the center of the room, practically glowing from the moonlight filtering in through the large window. There was a dark figure looming over the piano keys, their hands dancing over the black and white. Lithe fingers shifted and moved with such utter grace it brought tears to my eyes.

I recognized the person as soon as they jerked their head to move the dark locks of hair from their eyes. Sable. He was sitting at the bench, his black sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair was a mess, as if he had been running his fingers through it. But he kept playing, played so beautifully that I was lost in the world of his music. It was no song I recognized, and he played it with such emotion that I wondered if he had created the piece himself.

The song was somber, it sounded like heartbreak itself. The way the notes swayed and fell it felt as if I was experiencing the most terrible loss I'd ever feel. And Sable must've felt it too, because he was throwing himself into the music, his entire body moving with it. It felt private, but I couldn't rip my eyes away.

The music drifted to a close and Sable hit the last key with a flourish, ending it abruptly. It had a dramatic end. A dramatic end for a terribly sad song. I wondered what inspired the peace.

Sable turned suddenly and I watched his gray eyes flash in the darkness. He saw me. I peeled away from the door and sprinted back to my room, his room, with incredible speed. My fear must have jump-started my powers because everywhere my feet fell ice burst. God's damn it.

I got to his room and threw my hand out, dousing the fireplace with a chill breeze. The fire went out, submerging the room in darkness. I leaped into the bed and threw the covers over my shoulder, slamming my eyes shut as my heart pounded against my sternum. Don't come in, don't come in-

The door opened. I relaxed my body, trying to appear as if I had been sleeping the entire time. I heard his footsteps walking towards me and I waited. I waited for a hand to snatch my hair and pull me out of bed, waited for him to grab me by the shoulders and demand to know why I had been watching him. But none of those things happened. In fact, I felt his hand brush at my hair, pushing a strand of it behind my ear.

His smell flooded my senses before I felt a pair of lips at the shell of my ear. "Did you really think you could hide in the dark from me, Eira?" His voice was nothing but a whisper. He sounded...amused? "You seem to forget that your hair practically glows at night." I swore inwardly as he tugged idly on a piece of it. The bed creaked with his weight and I felt his warmth seep through my thin shirt.

"I see you've met Darcy." That was what got me to sit up.

"Who?" I asked. He was sitting much closer than I thought he'd be and I quickly moved back, a new flood of cold rising to my cheeks. Of course he had seen me, Callan once said my hair was like a torch in the moonlight. I was an idiot.

It was then that I saw Sable had something cradled in his arm, a dark mass. "You mean Licorice?"

"You named my cat after a candy?" Sable asked, his brows shooting up to his hairline.

I brought my knees up to my chest. "I didn't know she was your cat, so I just gave her the name that suited her. She does really look like a sweet candy." I shrugged. "And can you blame me? You don't exactly seem like a cat person."

"I'm not," he said. "She was my mothers." The cat purred as if she heard him.

"Then..." I swallowed, knowing I was crossing into uncharted territory. "Why isn't she with your mother?" Sable's eyes turned dark and his shoulders went rigid. He placed Darcy on the bed, right next to my legs.