Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 841 - Chapitre 850

PoseyThe sun sets over the mountains when Aris returns. His shadows pierce the bright pink light of the alpine glow, his boots moving across the floor, disrupting the stillness that’s been enveloping me for hours. I've been sitting in the same position since he left, dressed in the same thin nightgown, holding the mask in my hands. I’ve been in a trance, letting my powers dance in a way they never have while inspecting and investigating every groove and divot, every master’s brush of hot iron and alloys to strengthen the mask. Whatever I do, I can’t think about my current situation. I’ll fall apart. Falling apart means losing my grip on reality, and if I lose that…“Posey.”I look up. My eyes feel dry and scratchy. I’m not sure I’ve blinked since he left… hours ago. The door is wide open. His shadows dance around the room–which is much emptier than I remember it being, like everything has been cleared out since this morning right from underneath my nose. We wordlessly weave throu

PoseyIt’s a silent hunt for any books related to alchemy, metal, and forges. I find a few texts about old methods of ironsmithing I’m sure will be useful. Most of the alchemy books are tarnished, faded, and damn near useless at this point. Back when the skill was openly taught to anyone who brandished the powers, a different language was used. I don’t know it. Aris is just as puzzled, but he gathers old books in his arms nonetheless, his original hesitation shifting to curiosity as we walk the stacks together. He lights the old lanterns with his shimmering powers, and his shadows stretch all around us, dancing in the grainy light. I’m sure, when he’s like this, drenched in his own magic, most people would find him intimidating. I think he’s glorious. “What are you going to do with the fawn?” I ask when the silence becomes too much. I slide another heavy book into his hands, this one about apothecary remedies, hopefully old enough to have something for the use of alchemists within it

PoseyLuckily for Aris, I’m too busy trying desperately to keep my mind and heart away from the thought of him in general to disobey his direct orders. Unluckily for him, after a night of tossing and turning, with very little sleep, I wake up the next morning alone in the castle for the first time, staring at the mask, at my scattered, useless tools, and my mind wanders again.Trying to ignore my wanderlust, I get back to work, popping out the old jewels and busying myself by placing new ones, ones I made myself out of silver and melded until they shone like diamonds. The fawn bounces around my feet while I do my work. Silver is great for this–creating gems. Most alchemists can’t touch silver without a variety of specialized tools and a heavy duty forge, none of which I have, but it doesn’t affect me. Silver feels beautiful under my touch–like silky cream. Like pure, cold water. It makes me shiver as I press shards of silver into stainless steel molds, heating them until the silver wi

PoseyThe snow is far too deep, but the air is crisp, and icy fog hangs low. I bounce and weave between trees, my body and mind feeling freer than it has in a long time. I would stay like this forever if I could, but… I’m untrained. Also, if I’m caught, I’ll be killed and made into a pair of expensive mittens, which I’d rather avoid. It’s been months since I let the moon take over. When I was training in Moonrise, I spent three full months in the temple, sweating and in debilitating pain while chugging vial after vial of healing tonic to try to keep the shift from happening. I prayed for mercy. I often prayed for death. I mostly thought about Aris and let my mind stay in those golden memories from this summer, even though at any other point in time, I did my best not to remember. But tonight wasn’t an option. I should have seen the signs this morning–my one-track mind and my inability to keep still. I couldn’t sleep, for one. I was ravenously hungry, thirsty, and bouncing off the wa

PoseyAris pants against my neck. Pleasure like I’ve never known washes through me. Toe-curling, mind-numbing bliss that I drown in for several seconds until the room comes back into focus, and I remember myself. His eyes are dark and hooded in the firelight. The curtains are drawn to the storm beyond, and it’s still nighttime, I think. Aris is leaning over me, one hand resting between my thighs, and his other hand is still splayed against my back to keep me upright. His gaze holds mine in disbelief before he dips his head to lick the wound he just left clean, the puncture marks fading into scars under his tongue. His mark on my skin feels like I’ve been branded by liquid silver. It feels heavy and amazing.“You should hate me,” I whisper, closing my eyes and leaning my cheek against his. I’m so tired. I’ve never felt exhaustion like this before. My fingers ache to the bone. All I did today was build the helmet, repair every gem, turning silver into diamonds and moonstones to hold hi