Page 52 of A Lie so Pretty and Poisonous

He looked to Astorath and then to me. I wondered if he was going to fight me on this, but the need to move quickly won out. “Alright then.”

Staying calm and collected was an art form built on practice. Not to show any response when something was bothersome or, worse, enjoyable took a lot of mental fortitude. Even harder still was not reacting after an emotionally and mentally draining event.

Darragh’s chest and abdomen pressed against my back, his body heat warming me against the cool autumn air. I positioned myself as far forward in Astorath’s saddle as possible. A feat that was attempted in vain. His muscular thighs pressed against mine, and his arms reached around me, grazing my sides, to hold the reins. I was held firmly against him, and I only hoped that he couldn’t feel my pulse quickening with each shift in the saddle he made. I refused to relax against his chest.

Not calm and collected, Rory.

I tried to convince myself it was from the trauma. He rescued me, and the safety and connection I felt toward him were a result of high emotions, adrenaline, and mental fatigue. It couldn’t possibly be because of the way he looked at me the last few days, tender and attentive.

Ugh. Stop thinking about it!

We made quick work of putting the village of Relystone behind us, riding an hour to the east. The trees surrounding the village provided us with coverage from the seraphs spying our bloody forms. Within that hour was a lot of tense silence and ruminating thoughts.

I had to stop replaying the attack in my head. I needed a distraction. “Were you able to find out anything about the shipment from your contact?”

“Unfortunately, nothing more than we already know. He, too, has heard the rumors but has seen nothing himself. I’m sorry.” My shoulders slumped. “From here on out, he is going to be diligently working to figure out if the rumors are true and contact seraphs he knows in several other villages to be on the lookout. If nothing else, attention is being brought to it, and if humans are being brought to Tironaill, it won’t be long before it’s discovered.”

I blew out a breath. “I hope you’re right.”

“I hope so, too.”

“If you don’t want to tell me, it's fine, but I saw your enchants,” I said delicately. “It looked like shadows and…I don’t know what that was.”

“Fragorkinesis. I can make explosions of any size inside others and objects,” he stated matter-of-factly. “And yes, I can manipulate and solidify shadows and darkness. It’s called umbrakinesis.”

“Gabriel said most seraphs only have one enchant, and powerful seraphs have more. You have two. Is that why you were made Captain of the Guard?”

“I have more than two,” he rumbled near my ear, causing a shiver that I had to stifle down. His stubbled face grazed the side of my temple.

“What haven’t I seen?”

Darragh shifted again in the saddle. “I can read auras.”

I huffed out a breath. “You said that like I know what that means.”

I noted how our hips swayed in tandem as Astorath sauntered through the forest path.

Ignore it, Rory.

He chuckled. “An aura is an energy or vibration that someone gives off that surrounds them. Everyone has a different color and shape to their aura.”

“You said you read them?”

“Yes. A person’s aura tells me a lot about their character, tendencies, and sometimes their health. For seraphs, I can also tell what enchants they have based on their aura.”

“So, it is kind of like Anya’s ability to feel others’ emotions only enhanced?”

He nodded. “Similar in that they are each passive enchants, but I can’t feel emotions like she does.”

Part of me was desperate to know what he could see from my aura, and the other part was mortified that he could garner so much information about me from just seeing colors and shapes around me.

I hesitated. “Do you see them all the time?”

“Only when I tap into that enchant.”

Silence sat between us. The distant mountains pushed a cold breeze toward my face. The loose strands of my hair blew around, while the colorful leaves fluttered in the trees. The coolness of it was welcoming as heat built inside of me from the wall of muscle pressed against my back, and the realization that those chestnut-colored eyes might see who I was at my core. The mask of nobility I had tried to maintain always tumbled off when I was around him. It was disarming and vulnerable.

I worked up the nerve to ask, “Have you read my aura?” I could almost feel his mouth tug into a smile.