Serpent's Touch (Serpent's Touch 1)

He exhaled, letting go of my chin, then shifted back, away from me.

“One day…” he said so low, it was unclear if he even meant for me to hear him, but it sounded almost like a promise.

Leaning back against the armrest of the couch, he picked up his water bottle and emptied it. Then, he opened another one and took a long drink.

Only then, he spoke again. “What else did that werewolf say about the portal?”

“The portal?” I scrambled to gather my scattered thoughts. “Oh… He said that when traveling between the worlds, one never lands in the same time or place.”

“What?” Kyllen set up straighter. “What did he mean by that?”

“Once someone leaves a world, either here or Nerifir, they won’t come back to the exact same time or location when they return. You didn’t know that?”

His shapely lips pressed into a hard line. “Should I have known?”

“Well, since Lero knew, I thought maybe they taught those things in Nerifir?”

“Maybe they do.” He bit his lip. His canines were slightly longer and appeared sharper than those of humans, the points peeking out from under his upper lip.

“Maybe your tutors covered it in one of the many lessons you’ve skipped?” I suggested. “When you ran away with your friends to climb trees or ride water serpents?”

He looked subdued—a nearly eighty-year-old man, regretting his life choices.

“You should’ve done better in school, Kyllen,” I said, half-teasing.

He blew out a breath, leaning back on the couch. “Well, that… That changes things.”

It did, though neither of us could predict exactly how.

He slid his hand under his hood to rub his eyes. “A different place, I’m not so worried about. There’re means to travel distances. But a different time… Did Lero tell you what time we could expect to arrive?”

“No. He said it’s impossible to predict that. It could be centuries in the past, a month into the future, or the other way around. You can’t tell until you get there.”

He propped his elbow on the armrest of the couch and leaned his forehead on his hand. His silence concerned me.

“How bad can it be?” I prompted.

“Nerifir is an old world,” he said. “Life doesn’t change there quickly. We could end up thousands of years in the past, but I wouldn’t find it much different.”

That was what I figured from the stories he’d told me, but his obvious distress worried me now.

He took a drink from his bottle. A drop rolled down from the corner of his mouth. It skimmed the hard edge of his jaw before being absorbed by the soft material of the ends of his hood wrapped around his neck in a manner similar to my scarf. Normally, Kyllen was exceptionally careful not to waste any water. He must be truly distraught to let the drop get away.

“The main concern is my title.” He flexed his jaw. “The window of time when the throne of the High Lord belongs to me by birthright is short. The further away from it I’d go in either direction, the higher are the chances of someone contesting it. Too far in the past, and one of my ancestors would be the High Lord of Ellohi. Too far into the future, and someone new would be on my throne. I may have the right, but the descendants of another bloodline may take over my position by then and would’ve made it their own.”

“Is being the High Lord that important to you?”

He huffed a humorless laugh at that. “Oh yes, it is, my friend. It’s my rightful place in my own home. It’s my father’s legacy.” He fisted his right hand, nervously rubbing his fingers with his thumb. “Being the High Lord will also give me the means to support and protect you. You didn’t want to come with me before, but you can’t go back to Ghata after everything that happened today.”

I hadn’t told him about my decision to come with him all the way to Nerifir, but he’d assumed correctly.

“No. I can’t go back.” I’d burned that bridge and had yet to feel any regrets other than Radax… Sharp pain stabbed through my chest at the thought of him. I exhaled slowly, taking a moment to compose myself. “You don’t need to worry about me, Kyllen. I don’t need much.” I shifted closer and touched his knee.

He smiled, covering my hand with his. “Oh, I know, my sweet pea. Only I wish to give you everything you deserve but have been denied in life. You rescued me. You earned my gratitude. I wish to dress you in the most beautiful ball gowns, decorate you with the finest jewels of Ellohi Court, and feed you the most delicious food Lorsan has to offer.”

I didn’t need any of that, but I enjoyed every drop of affection he spoke with.

“As a High Lord,” he continued, his voice filled with strength. “I’d also have the power to annihilate anyone who’d even think about harming you. No one would dare so much as to raise their voice at you.”

That was fierce.

“When you say I’ll be safe, you really mean it, don’t you?”

A corner of his mouth rose higher in a self-assured smile. “Why do things half-way?”

I stroked the top of his hand. His patterned skin felt much more supple after his bath.

“All I want is to be free, Kyllen.”

His smile dimmed somewhat. “That’s another reason I need to be the High Lord. Freedom is not guaranteed in Nerifir. One has to have the power to defend it.”

I bit my lip, knitting my brows into a frown. Both Radax and Lero had spoken of Nerifir as a dangerous place. Even from Kyllen’s stories, I’d gathered that deceit, rivalry, and wars were a part of life there just as beauty and magic. But I was prepared to deal with all of that.

He leaned closer, squeezing my hand in his. “More than anything, I want you to have a choice, Amira. Here is the one I can give you—you can stay here—”

I couldn’t believe his words. Staying was not what I escaped the menagerie for. What I’d hurt Radax for…

I sucked in a breath, ready to argue, but he raised his hand, stopping me.

“You won’t go back to Ghata, Amira. Never. But you can stay here, in this world. I’ll be with you for as long as it takes for you to settle. We have some money, but I’ll get you more—much, much more. You’ll choose a house you like, anywhere in this world, wherever you feel free, safe, and happy. I’ll make sure you’ll never have to worry about Ghata ever again.”

“And then what?” I asked. “Then, you’ll leave?”

His chest rose as he inhaled deeply. “I can’t stay here forever. Lorsan is my world. I’ll have to go back and either take my rightful place or carve out a new one for myself.”

The idea of separation cut like a knife. I shifted closer to him, fitting my knees between his.

“But couldn’t you stay here instead? For good? We could choose our new home together. I heard Italy is nice. The pasta may be too dry for you, but they have lots of fruit. And wine. Do you drink wine?”

He smiled, but shook his head. “It’s not about the wine—”