Sember (Forestfolk, Book 2)

Chapter 18b

Stop.

I had promised myself no more of these pathetic self-indulgences. Told myself it didn't matter what Jastin thought. I'd discarded that silly list of undesirable traits.

Then what was this stinging in my heart?

I cursed myself for breaking my own promise. My hands burned as I plodded through the snow. It crept up my arms and spread through my chest, stunting my ability to take a normal breath. The monster rose within me like a tentacle of fire, curling around my lungs and creeping into my brain, heating my entire body to dangerous temperatures. My breathing sped up, and I knew with certainty that I needed to get out of here.

Before I combusted.

In front of Jastin.

"I have to go," I muttered over my shoulder as I broke into a run. I wasn't sure where I was running to, but the tempest inside me was morphing into an uncontrollable firestorm. I tore the pack off my shoulders and threw it into the snow so I could put as much distance as I could between us.

Only he was running after me.

"Sember, where are you going?" he called, not far behind me.

Didn't he get it? Didn't he know I was dangerous? "Stay away from me!" I shouted and threw a fireball in his path.

I ran so blindly that I managed to trip on a root covered by snow. I fell face-first into the drift, causing it to hiss into steam when I touched it. The snow around me melted in seconds. Then I saw his boots standing next to me and my stomach lurched. He was much too close. He was going to get hurt.

I scrambled onto my backside and scooted backward, melting more snow as I went. "Jastin, get away from me! Can't you see I'm overheating? You're going to get hurt."

He stared at me, mouth parted with bewilderment. Why was he just standing there like an idiot?

My boots slid in the mud as I tried clambering to my feet. I wouldn't be responsible for maiming Jastin. The blast could even kill him. I had to get away from him.

"Let me help you."

It was my turn to stare at him. "You can't help me. Just get out of here!"

He stepped closer, face serious. "Sember, I can help."

"Are you crazy? Get away from me!" I scooted back farther.

He knelt, one knee in the mud, one hand extended. "I can help."

"You have no idea what I'm capable of," I quavered.

"And perhaps you're underestimating me as well." His outstretched hand turned blue. "Sember, you can trust me."

Frost formed on his hand, growing thicker as I watched. "I . . . I don't know."

He leaned closer and whispered, "Let me help."

Was he stupid? His stubbornness rivaled mine. But . . . perhaps his own elemental strength could as well. The pulsing heat within gave me doubts, but I had to try. I shook with the effort to contain myself, and clasped a trembling hand around his.

He crawled closer, his hand tightening around mine in a grip that only got frostier. His other hand went to my shoulder, carefully pushing me back. He was so gentle that I let him, my elbows sliding until I was on my back.

Slowly, slowly, he moved over me until his body smothered mine. Both his hands splayed across my cheeks. They were cold. No, they were freezing. His whole body radiated an intense chill, like a glacier sitting on top of me. Steam rose up from my face as his ice battled my fire. He was cooling me.

I focused on controlling my wild emotions. My breath still came in short gasps, but his gambit was working. His hands were colder than the frigid air. Colder than the snow around me. Colder than a lethal night-time blizzard. Bit by bit, I began to calm a little. I closed my eyes and my breathing slowed. The burning rage inside settled into a simmer, and the monster laid its sleepy head back down into the mist.

Eventually I lay still, enjoying the sensation of coolness over my body. When I opened my eyes again, he was gazing down at me, his blue eyes unreadable.

"Thank you," I said. The words seemed so insignificant.

He continued watching me, and one of his hands slid up to brush my hair back.

I swallowed, hyperaware of his body pressed against mine, yet unable to tear my eyes from his. "I think I'm okay now."

He blinked, nodded, and climbed off me. He pulled me up after him, and I busied myself with straightening my clothes and brushing off imaginary snow, which had long melted. I felt so self-conscious that my stomach kept quivering, and I avoided his eyes.

"I'll go fetch my pack," I mumbled as I brushed past him.

When we resumed walking, he periodically glanced at me. I had made a complete fool of myself, and I had no idea what he thought of me now.

After what felt like his tenth peek at me, I snapped at him. "What?"

He hesitated, then asked, "Do you overheat often?"

"No."

He hesitated again. "If you had exploded, would it have harmed you?"

"No." I was giving him a taste of his own monosyllabic answers. I knew it was childish, but I didn't feel like discussing this with him. I could shut him out as easily as he had me. If he would have just talked to me earlier, this would never have happened in the first place.

Is she being fair? Maybe a vote for Jastin then...