Garden of Serpents (The Demon Queen Trials #3)(32)

“Try it. I want you to summon your magic but try to focus on an intense emotion as you do so.”

My pulse raced as I stared up at him, meeting his gaze. He must know the effect he had on me because his incubus powers would tune in to that. But could I hear his heart racing, too?

Better to think of something else. I closed my eyes and replayed the worst things he’d ever said to me.

I don’t respect you enough to hate you… I find you tedious and pathetic… You don’t have it in you…

Anger simmered in my blood, boiling away the desire. And the coup de grace for any positive feelings, the memory of him saying Escort this woman out of my realm.

Power swirled between my ribs, just at the point where Orion was touching me. After all that, how dare he try to seduce me again? Molten wrath swept through me.

“Rowan,” he barked.

My eyes snapped open, and I found Orion gilded in light that was emanating from my own body.

When I looked down at myself, I glowed, the light nearly blinding. I gasped at the sight. I’d seen this happen to Orion before, but never to myself. He was still touching me, and the heat from his fingertips helped to center the magic in my body. Tracing his fingers up a little bit, I felt the electrical buzz of magic move with them. Now, it spilled into my chest.

“Rowan,” he whispered. “You are shockingly powerful. You need to draw on one of the colder emotions before you destroy my house. Think of something sad.”

Ah, but there was so much to choose from there. And the first thing that popped into my mind was an argument I’d had with Mom the week before she died, when I’d told her that she was always annoying me with her paranoia. I’d told her if she kept it up, she’d make me as crazy as she was.

I still vividly remembered the look of hurt on her face…

God, I was an asshole. Guilt and sorrow slid through me, and I watched the golden light fade from Orion’s features. Tears stung my eyes, and I tried to blink them away.

Reaching out, Orion brushed a strand of my hair out of my face—a gesture so natural I nearly forgot I was supposed to be keeping my guard up.

“For Lightbringers,” he said softly, “our power is different. Overwhelming. If it feels too intense, you could shut it down. Or it could explode out of you and incinerate everything around you, which is what would have happened just now if I hadn’t been helping you center it.”

He seemed sincere, but I could already hear Kas’s response in my mind. Kas would tell me he was trying to convince me to lose.

I sighed, still trying to shake off the devastating image of Mom. “Okay. Well, if it seems like I’m losing control, I know what to think about.”

His pale eyes searched mine. “What is it?”

“Guilt.”

“Ah,” he said softly. “I know that one well. It’s with me always. And maybe that’s why I will never lose control of my magic completely.”

“Thanks for the help.” I swallowed. “I guess.” I blinked. I was having a hard time putting coherent thoughts together, which wasn’t wildly unusual around Orion.

But right now, I was particularly confused.

The world seemed to be dimming. Each word, each phrase, was floating by like a puff of dandelion seeds blowing on the wind. I almost wanted to fall right into his powerful chest and let him wrap his arms around me. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

He put his hands on my shoulders. One of his thumbs moved back and forth slowly, giving me clarity again. “It’s not just the risk of the damage you can do to the world around you. Powerful magic like that has a cost. When you release your light magic, you leave a vacuum. And chaos magic slips in to fill the void.”

With his touch, my mind started clearing again. I reached up and pulled his hands off my shoulders. “Why would you help me steal your crown?”

“Because we’re on the same side.”

Exhaustion washed over me, and I wanted desperately to curl up into his bed. But my own was just a few feet away. “I should go to sleep.” I turned, my muscles like lead. “Good night.”

“Rowan?”

When I turned to look at him, I thought I saw a flicker of sadness pass across his perfect features—but it was so fast.

“Yeah?”

“Sunshine.” Disdain laced his voice. “What is that?”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s sarcastic. Because…you know…” Suddenly, I found myself desperate to know what he thought of me. “Because I’m a downer.”

He studied me closely, and I expected him to say something mildly insulting. Instead, he said, “A downer?”

Given Orion’s history, I probably was a veritable ray of sunshine. “You know, I have a lot of stored facts about death and general fears.”

A line formed between his brows. “But of course you’d need that. Mortals die so easily. And you seemed particularly accident-prone.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“You’re not a downer. You are one of the most entertaining people I’ve ever known.”

“You only know, like, four people, and one of them had his head split open with an axe.”

A smile played about his lips. “See?”

I swallowed, then turned to walk back into my room, distinctly disturbed by the warm glow his words had given me.