Things That Should Stay Buried - Casey L. Bond Page 0,78

a sympathetic response to him hurting himself to save me.

But then again, maybe it was our bond, affecting me before the marks were even painted on.

I showed him how it scared but thrilled me when our journey here didn’t hurt as it did when Kes carried me, how terrified but awestruck I was when he raised his columns and castle, and how humbled I was when he spoke to his people and gave them shelter.

I somehow knew he wouldn’t let his people suffer. I knew his heart as well as I knew mine.

I opened my eyes and found him staring, his beautiful lips parted. “Larken.”

“Aries,” I breathed, unable to bring myself to pull away from him.

Instead, he kissed me. Gently this time. Reverently. Softly. He kissed me languidly. Patiently. Pouring himself into it and drinking me in.

And though I’d been falling for him since he woke, I knew in that moment I was completely his, just as he was entirely mine.

“How is this possible?” he breathed.

“I wish I knew.” There was something troubled in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “I just don’t understand how I can feel so…”

“I know. It’s intense. And it’s not just the pledge, Aries.” No matter how much Kes tries to convince me it is.

He placed a soft kiss on my temple. “I know it isn’t.”

As we stood together on the balcony, Aries took the time to show me much, much more. He began with his memories before the slumber, at a time when things were relatively peaceful among them, even if there were Zodia that Aries didn’t particularly care for.

Then he shared other feuds and battles that had divided them over time – back when there were thirteen Zodia, with twelve divided among the elements. Three Zodia each represented earth, air, fire, and water, with the thirteenth Zodia, Ophiuchus being the decider. His role was to remain neutral and mediate the feuding that inevitably happened amongst the Zodia.

Ophiuchus was a feathered, humanoid dragon with membranous wings the color of pomegranate and eyes a deep, saturated plum color. Surprisingly, there was an impassive hollowness to him that at first reminded me of Pisces.

My memory of Pisces was that she was cruel and vicious. She saw a threat and sought to end it, no more concerned about the implications of murder than the coldest killer; however, she did possess emotion. I wasn’t sure that Ophiuchus did. Perhaps that was how he decided things; unemotionally, completely based upon logic without consideration to his personal feelings. Maybe his nothingness was what consumed him in the end, causing him to take his own life.

When he died, a series of explosive wars erupted among the Zodia. Wars they fought for themselves. Wars they made their people fight on their behalf. When Aries refused to subject his people to such fighting and moved them to the great plains that were considered neutral ground, the Zodia turned their armies upon Aries’s people and lands.

That was what broke him. What made him concoct the plan to build a false symbol of peace and lure them into it, knowing they wouldn’t be able to leave. Knowing he would whisper words that held binding power and magic. Incantations that would put them all to sleep.

He pulled his head away from mine and reached for my hand, his claws lazily tracing gentle circles over my palm. “You see, this isn’t the first thing that has caused a rift between us.”

“You mean me?” I teased half-heartedly.

“I mean the fact that I deceived them and used a power none of them knew about to put them to sleep. And the fact that I never meant for them to awaken again,” he admitted. “I wasn’t strong enough to kill them, but it was the only thing I could do for the world they were tearing apart.” He paused and seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “The battles didn’t matter to them. The bloodshed was for sport at that point, nothing more than an amusement to pass the time. I didn’t find the loss of life amusing.”

“How did you put yourself to sleep?” I asked.

“With the same incantation.”

“How did you know the words? Or that it would work?”

With his free hand, he pounded his heart. “I knew it here. The words came to me. And in my heart, I knew they felt right and that I had to be the one to end this. I just wish it had worked permanently. And if that wasn’t possible, I wish