The Blood King

Chapter 12

Neytiri

The heat from the fire is comforting, as is the starry night sky. I can feel the eyes of Cassian's men on me, all watching in concern and something else. I also notice that Caius is tense. Very tense. Like he's afraid of the situation.

I'm sitting near the fire with one of Cassian's robes over me. It's warm. And smells just like him. Caius hands me a cup with warm liquid in it and rubs his hand gently on my back.

"Thank you," I murmur giving him a soft smile.

I immediately shift my gaze back to the ground to avoid the one gaze that is scaring me.

Cassian.

He's sitting across from me, and I know he hasn't taken his eyes off of me. I can feel his gaze but I refuse to meet it in fear of what might happen, or what I might do.

"Leave us," he says. I feel a sense of deja vu hearing those words leave his lips. But I won't tell him that. I am slowly beginning to recall Cassian's presence in my life and I feel like I have to keep that to myself. It frightens me to think what he would do if he found out. Or what it would mean to him. Ulric and Caius bow before leaving the tent, but I immediately notice the hesitation in Caius before he decides to obey Cassian's order.

I keep my eyes down looking at the orange glow that casts over the grass by the fire. Cassian lets out a deep sigh.

"What happened? he asks. I only shrug. The fire itself is comforting, but I'm beginning to grow uncomfortable sitting so close to it.

"So, you somehow magically ended up frozen in the middle of a waterfall," he says. I giggle softly. It sounds funny hearing it come from his lips.

"Are you laughing?" he asks in disbelief. My smile immediately drops. Silence.

"I was just... in the water, and my skin began to feel funny, and the next thing I knew, the water had frozen around me," I say.

I take a deep breath and look up meeting his gaze. Everything I felt that first time comes rushing back to me in alarm. It feels like a punch in my chest. But I swallow my fear and stay brave.

I have to let out a small breath. He's staring at me as if contemplating what to do. His hair is pulled completely back and out of his face, so I can see all of the symbols that adorn the side of his face. He notices the direction of my stare.

He laughs softly shaking his head. The sound carries on the wind, brushing past my ears. He looks at the fire.

"Is the heat making you uncomfortable?" he asks. I look at the fire and back to him.

"Or is it me?" he asks.

His gaze is zeroed in on me, and I can hear the amusement in his tone. He stands up, placing his hand in the flame. I gasp softly expecting it to burn him but it doesn't. The flames wrap around his palm, not hurting him at all. He looks at me.

"I like the fire. It makes me feel good. At home. At peace. It comforts me," he says. He pulls his hand away from the fire holding it up for me to see that no harm has come to him.

"It's a part of me. And, when I feel like I'm losing control on my situation, I look to the flames," he says. He steps in front of me, kneeling so that he is eye level with me. My grip on the mug tightens involuntarily, and my instincts are screaming at me so loud, I'm surprised my ears haven't started bleeding yet.

"You're an Ikniri. Do you know what that is?" he asks. I shake my head unable to form words.

"The Ikniri are one of the Ancients. The first. Powerful beings put here to lead humanity to the light. To help them and protect them... and guide them," he says.