Love The Void (Palaye Royale - Book 2)

Chapter 8

"Asteria!" Emerson calls, and I turn around to face him, putting down the book I'd been reading.

It lays safely next to me on the bench, right beside my light wood colored guitar. I don't really pause to wonder how Emerson had found me, chalking it up to being the promised bond at work. He walks over, his maroon striped pants making him seem tall even from a distance. The soft chirping of birds is the only background noise in the otherwise desolate park, which I would have found concerning had it not been nearing nine o'clock at night. The carbon dioxide in my lungs was coming out in even, translucent puffs of white, the air crisp and cold. Unusual for Los Angeles.

The overhead light fixture brightens his eyes, face otherwise cast in small, long shadows due to his wavy hair falling in strands on his cheeks, his signature hat nowhere to be seen. There's a hesitancy both in his gaze and buzzing through our bond, neither of us able to hear each others thoughts unless it was purposeful or especially strong. We'd spent plenty of time with each other, he'd told me, once I could no longer hear his thoughts involuntarily.

A short memory flashes through my mind, a mere millisecond of fond reflection, of Emerson and I talking in his small bunk, one arm gently wrapped around my shoulders as my head lain on his chest and the cool touch of his hand as it gently gripped my own.

The feather-light touch of his finger trailing my cheekbone catches my attention and I look up into his hazel eyes with confusion swimming in my own.

"What is it?" I inquire, standing up with worry overcoming the confusion in my eyes.

He merely guides me to sit back down with a small smile gracing his thin lips, "I've got something to tell you, and you may not like it."

"What is it?" I ask once again, brow furrowing slightly.

"You're a witch." He comes right out with it, unable to meet my eyes but I know he's telling the truth.

(A/N: Yer a wizard 'Arry [and you're very hairy])

"I'm.. I'm... I can use magic?" I stumble over my words, eyes wide in both shock and amazement at this... this new revelation Emerson's brought upon me.

I mean... it's hard to believe... but it isn't. I've noticed odd things happen every once in a while as I've grown up. That one time on tour was a prime example. I knew Emerson hadn't caught me, I knew it, but I just brushed it off.

"So... that time on tour where I tripped- which one?" Emerson cuts me off with a playful smirk, trying to lighten the mood.

"Hush!" I poke his cheek with a meaningless glare, "- And I sort of just stopped mid-air. That was me? Because I knew there was a moment in between where you grabbed me and when I stopped."

"Yes, that was your magic trying to help you out. You used it subconsciously, and I tried to play it off as I caught you." He nods, explaining a bit.

"How long have you known?"

"Since the first night you'd slept in my room. Remington told me late that night. Andrew had looked at the wound on your shoulder and there was traces of magic. Delving further, he found out you're a witch."

"Why didn't my parents ever tell me?" I mutter, leaning into him for comfort, knowing he'd be glad to give it based off the reassuring smile on his lips.