Page 41 of Commanding Flame and Shield
“What?” I asked over a nervous laugh.
“Nothing,” he chuckled darkly, dragging his lower lip between his teeth as his face fell, palm running over his hair.
“You lost me,” I admitted.
“Just...something Alec said. Doesn’t matter.” A secretive smile curved his full lips, and I tracked the movement, forcing my eyes up only when August said, “I don’t know what this is, Ally. I can’t make sense of it. But I need to let her go. She won’t fit in this world...or at least...I don’t see how.” His words made my heart quicken inexplicably, and I demanded it slow, knowing he could hear it. “None of this bullshit is what she signed up for. I can’t let her get hurt, and they used her once. She’s...she’s too good for me. For this.”
I blew out a long breath, allowing my eyes to gulp in the look of him, and soak up the familiar pulse of this soul so clearly tied to me. He was like a novel I’d read too many times, over too many lives. Leather-bound and beautiful, but worn with love and sunlight, parchment torn and repaired, dogeared, with notes in the margins. A smell I liked to breathe in on chilly autumn days, wrapped in a chunky braided blanket, sipping tea in the window seat of the cabin by the fire. He smelled like fire. Like mountains and sunlight, and everything good and pure.
I stayed silent, granting him space, not wanting to influence his decision, but also wanting passionately to affirm his choices. I yearned to crack open the familiar cover and allow his stories to pour forward. Yearned to reach one hand to his still flushed cheek and stroke it down his beautiful features. His pull was immense, as though everything I’d survived in the last three hundred years had led me to this exact point.
Guilt washed over me, and I curled onto my knees, rubbing my temples. Layla. He should have gone home to Layla that day after work. He shouldn’t have had to be saved and scooped out of his world.
It’s not your fault.He had turned to stare at me, expression soft, but undoubtedly pained.It’s not any of your fault. It just...is what it is.
How could he take everything so well? All my years of spiritual teaching rang in my head, and I still found more strength and resilience in those bottomless green eyes, than in every lesson emblazoned on my ironclad memory.
Maybe I should have let them think I died.
The thought startled me, and my eyes flew back to his. Even that thought—of him dying—rattled my insides like a pebble in a blender.
“August,” I breathed, unable to keep the admonishment from my tone as I shook my head. “Theylove you. Don’t put them through that. Their lives are so incredibly short, and devastatingly fragile. They’ll be lost to you long before you’re ready, no matter how many decades you have them. I want you to hold them as long as you can.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “We don’t get an afterlife? The way they do?”
“If we do, none of us have earned it yet. I don’t think the sins of our ancestors have lifted.”
“Hardly seems fair.”
“It’s not. But we make the most of it.” I watched as he processed the events of the evening, and then smiled at him again. “Finding long-lost friends is kind of fun though.”
He smirked at me, eyes finally looking playful. “Is that what we are? Long-lostfriends?”
Heat rushed my face, leaving me grateful for the blanket of darkness. I shrugged and said, “I’d like to think so. Eternity is a long time to wait for someone you’re lukewarm about. I mean…you about burned Aren’s cabin down to defend me.”
He laughed, and pointed out, “You know, for someone who is supposed tosee all, you’re a bit blind.”
I wrinkled my nose before the laugh bubbled up my throat. “Oh, piss off Rookie.” With a shove of my own, and a roll of my eyes, I added, “What do you expect when I’m sandwiched betweentwopowerful shields?”
“I didn't think that would be your thing.” A panty-melting grin spread across his face, and he knocked into me with his shoulder. “For the record, I don’t intend to share.”
Eyes flying wide, jaw popping open, my reaction earned every ounce of his ensuing satisfied cackle. I elbowed him, hard, but he only laughed louder, the sound infectious as he clutched his side.
“Oh. You're trouble,” I breathed out, still gaping at him.
“But you knew that from the beginning.” His sly smirk was cute and cocky, laced with playfulness. With a wink, August said, “You think I’m powerful?”
I choked on my amusement. He couldn’t truly be so oblivious to have missed all the things he’d accomplished in a few short days, could he?
“In all seriousness?” He nodded, and I flashed him a broad smile. “Possibly the best I’ve seen. Aren and Alec say so too. And that was before your temper tantrum in there.”
“Damn,” was all he uttered, fingers running across the stubble along his jaw. The breeze again carried that evening chill across my skin and filled our lungs with the scent of pine and fire.
“Most people take more time to figure out their powers—months, or years, not days.”
“Do most people reincarnate with old friends?”
“Most of the time there’s at least a soul or two we recognize. You got lucky, really, with Alec. His intuition is amazing.”
