Page 33 of Commanding Flame and Shield
TWELVE
KING CALLOWAY
ALVARA
August left only to fetch refreshments and entertainment from the lounge. He brought in theMancalaboard for me, as well as a tray of colorful fruits and cheeses. We played a handful of rounds before Saraya came by with tea and tinctures, making happy noises of approval, as she lifted my shirt to check the progress of my wounds. August respectfully faced away, tapping his fingers on the side of his arms anxiously as she examined me. I laughed at the thoughtfulness. Modesty was not a luxury often afforded for soldiers. The wounds would be clear by morning at this rate, and we could get me out of the limelight, and back into training August. His training felt so urgent, his presence almost gave me anxiety. He should’ve been with Alec or Aren, learning the ropes, triggering memories, stepping into his power. But the idea of him being away also gave me anxiety—a cruel, vicious cycle between the two, playing tug-of-war with my heart.
He told me stories of his childhood, revealing more nerdy pastimes as we adventured into adolescence.
“Who was your favorite character?” I demanded when he brought up standing in line at midnight premiers for theHarry Potterbooks. If I’d known that simple question would dissolve into three hours of geeking out over the plot and premise of his favorite childhood books, I might have snuck away to the bathroom first. But watching the man smile was like basking in sunlight, and every chuckle and anecdote served as a balm to my soul.
His dad was aStar Trekfan, so naturally, we had to lament the endless hours of space trivia. His mom liked to garden, so he’d spent a fair amount of time with his hands in the soil, and there was something about it that felt like home to him after all his years in the city, surrounded by metal and asphalt.
Finally, he told me stories of James and his sister Freya, who he hadn’t talked about much. The age gap was a bit of an impediment in their relationship, but he had an intense protective energy any time he spoke of her. She was seventeen, and the fact that she was popular like he had been, and already dating, vexed him immensely.
“Teenage boys suck,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “I sound like such adad, but they’ve only got one God damned thing on their mind, and Freya is…cursed with beauty, in my opinion. I’ve always been afraid it would make her an easy target. She’s spunky, and lucky for me,lovesmartial arts, but I’m still afraid I’m going to have to kill some asshole someday.”
“She’s lucky to have you. You can still picture her face?”
He nodded.
“Good. I think that means you’re in a soul group—if they’re vivid to you now, you should keep them.” Relief flashed across his features.
“So, if I can’t remember Layla clearly…” He trailed off, but his question was clear. I shook my head apologetically. August’s eyes went hazy as his ribs seemed to compress. Before his gaze could refocus, his thoughts began to pour out of him. “I know I should be sad, but…I feel…numb.” His brows dipped low, pinching together as he scrubbed at his jaw. “What does that say about me?”
August meant it when he said he loved Layla, as he all but hurled her into Aren’s waiting arms. The struggle to reconcile what he knew with this new reality was evident within those stormy emeralds as it raged inside him. My heart ached in sympathy, dragging me into a moment of hesitant silence before I could compose an answer to the question that pained him.
“I don’t know if there’s ashould be, when it comes to handling ascension. Everyone is a little different. Fae has the oldest memories among us, and she retains her human lives as clearly as her ascended ones. She’s a walking history book, in that way.” My lungs sucked in a long, pointed breath. “Your concern for how this impacts Layla, when you had no say in anything happening to you, says everything about what kind of man you are, August. Don’t question your own heart because the world flipped on its axis.”
He huffed, face looking distressed.
“Tell me more about James,” I prompted, needing to distract him from the ache permeating every inch of air between us. August’s eyes snapped up to mine, still hollow and haunted, even as he feigned what was clearly meant to be a reassuring smile. I could tell he knew what I was doing, but he didn’t seem to mind.
We told stories for a while after that, banter easy and lighthearted. Back to being effortless. He asked me about my lives, and I shared what I could remember. As my earth family had died before my ascension, I didn’t have a whole lot to share in that department.
“I’m sorry,” he said, eyes intense.
“Don’t be. It was so long ago. Lifetimes—literally.”
He nodded obediently, and asked me about Aren, the giant. I snorted and shared with him everything I could think of about my only inevitable companion. Somehow, he had leisurely sprawled across the foot of my bed before the afternoon was over, sitting precariously close to my legs for a man who had not given consent to my mind searching through his own. I was careful to keep the blanket draped between us, but the ease with which he seemed to rest there was unique.
Ansel was much more careful to keep a wide berth from any of my skin—even in the thick of things last night, careful not to overwhelm me by scooping me out of harm’s way when he knew I couldn’t handle a new reading on an immortal. Ansel had always been made for battle, with acute observational skills. Early in this lifetime, he’d put together that my gifts had manifested before I ascended.
Between stories and his uncanny ability to read people’s faces, perhaps an intrinsic knowing he couldn’t explain, Ansel had put the pieces in order until he realized I’d been reading in my mortal years. Realized my energy could be down to the dregs, and my mind would still deep dive on a read when I didn’t have it in me. Involuntary with contact of skin. He’d interrogated me about it once, when he realized the depth of that gift. When my mortal life was ending, I had bitten an attacker, and without the strength of ascension, read every detail of his life, mind and past. From then on, he’d been the most cautious of my companions, handing me gloves, or cloaking my skin after a strenuous battle. A good General in his past lives, Ansel told me he’d had an uncanny ability for knowing what his soldiers needed and when. It seemed to translate to protecting my mind as much as my body. And so, he kept his distance.
However, as the evening wore on, mellow darkness creeping into the room, August slowly began setting his hands on my legs over the covers, gesticulating as he told stories, and sharing random tidbits of knowledge from his time on earth. I didn’t pull away from him, as I ought to. It was comforting, having him there. Like a favorite tv show playing in the background, or a book I’d already read a few times.
Desperation finally overruling my intrigue, I excused myself to go to the bathroom, and relief washed over me when my movements weren’t met with stabs of discomfort. When I came back, I was immensely disappointed to find the room empty. My sadness lasted only seconds though, because he came into the room behind me, broad grin on his face, two cups of steaming tea in his hands, and a book tucked under his arm. The smile that stretched across my face upon seeing him was beyond my control.
“Saraya told me this book might be helpful for you,” he said quietly, as though lulling a child to sleep.
August draped a blanket over his shoulder, creatively covering his arm and neck, and climbed into bed next to me. We sat against the headboard, book splayed open on our laps as we looked through the pages. It was the legend of The Great Commander—the King of Kings.That sly little sneak.Planting awfully big seeds in his mind. But the history—the legend—of The Great Commander’s soul was fascinating. Without fully thinking through the gesture, I rested my head on his covered shoulder, listening to his husky voice as he read me the legend of King Calloway—a Nephilim warrior, braided with an angel—possessing both the strength of human form, and pure spirit of his angel counterpart. This spirit was our only true Commander, a leader so strong, all must follow. I closed my eyes to let them rest as I listened, and the moment I did, drifted back into the darkness.
THIRTEEN
HONEY
AUGUST
