Author's Note: I'm just going to drop this super, extra long chapter right here. Enjoy.
Twenty – Impulse
Kyra pressed her back against the door to her room, catching her breath. Her head was spinning, and she couldn't seem to take in enough air. She thought she might be having a panic attack and sunk to the floor, pressing her head to her knees. Thoughts and memories, feelings and confusion flooded her mind like a tsunami that couldn't be stopped. Everything was too much and yet…not enough. She wanted to know more, wanted to fill in the gaps. She wanted revenge for her parents. She wanted something more from Loki though she couldn't say what. She couldn't think about that now, couldn't begin to consider what had changed between them. But something had changed. That much was clear, and it frightened her. Kyra wasn't used to trusting people, wasn't used to letting them into her life. Loki was a trickster, and it felt like a very bad idea to want something more from him. A bad idea to trust him.
But she did. She trusted him more than she'd trusted anyone else in a very long time. There was something that undeniably drew her to him despite the danger. She knew he wouldn't hurt her. Not like when she'd first come to Asgard and he thought he had to threaten her to get what he wanted. But he was a manipulator and pain wasn't only physical. He was so much older than her—a god from mythology—getting into anything with him save a tentative alliance was a very bad idea. Besides, who was she to think there might even be anything between them? Loki could have the pick of Asgardian maidens, and he certainly wouldn't pick a mortal from Earth.
Kyra let out a shaky sob. She'd just watched her parents die—relieved her worst memory—and she was worried about where she and Loki stood. She'd helped him reclaim his kingdom; he'd helped her get her memories back. It was an even exchange, and she knew he wouldn't want to be in her debt. It was nothing more than that even if had seemed like it was something more just a few minutes before. She had been vulnerable, in need of comfort. That was all it was. All it could ever be.
She looked down at her hands, unsure of how to feel about her powers. She stared down at the veins in her left arm, imagining the sensation of a needle piercing her skin, of a serum burning in her veins. She went over what she knew in her head, realizing how little it was. Her parents had been trying to create a serum that enabled psychic abilities. They'd begun working for Hydra when the university had cut off their funding. Hydra had forced them to work on a live subject, clearly holding a great deal of power over Kyra's parents. She wanted to believe that they never would have done that without extensive threats on Hydra's part. But they'd done it nonetheless. The serum had disfigured the man, but she wasn't sure if it had given him any abilities. It had worked on her. She wasn't sure if it was perfect. Her abilities did not work smoothly. Sometimes they didn't work at all. They seemed to work better when Loki's magic was there to aid her. But what she had wasn't magic. It was some ill-thought experiment. It was all she had left of her parents' failures. It was the reason for their deaths.
She clenched her fists, her emotions welling up until she felt as if she would burst. She let out a ragged sob and half the contents of her room flew backwards with a force that left her feeling drained. Books scattered across the floor, furniture lay overturned, and a porcelain vase lay shattered. Kyra sat breathing hard. There was nothing special about her. Nothing magical. She was an abomination, the result of the worst parts of her life.
She kicked off her boots and crawled under the covers of her bed, ignoring the mess around her. She didn't know who she was anymore, who she was supposed to be. She didn't think she would be able to fall asleep and that, if she did, her mind would be riddled with nightmares. As it turned out, she'd used the last reserves of her strength, and she fell into a coma-like sleep, her mind blissfully empty.
…
Kyra awoke late the next morning to a knock on her door. Or perhaps it was late afternoon. She turned over and fell back asleep, ignoring the knock. Part of her didn't want to deal with the world, but another part of her was simply exhausted. She had her limits, and she had pushed herself too far.
Food appeared later that night, and she managed to eat a little before curling back up in her bed. She spent the next morning similarly until an insistent knocking came in the late afternoon.
"Go away!" she said loudly enough to be heard. It was probably Loki. The door opened, and she sat up in bed, opening her mouth to shout at him again. To her surprise, Sif walked in. Her friend took one look at the room—still left in the same state as it had been when Kyra had released her emotions—and turned to Kyra, concern etched on her face.
"Odin told me Amora showed you your past, that she unlocked your memories. Kyra, I can't even begin to imagine."
Kyra sat up in bed, conscious of her matted hair and rumpled clothes. Sif looked put together as usual, armor shining, hair in a neat ponytail.
"How's Aelsa?" Kyra asked, not wanting to talk about her memories.
Sif righted an overturned chair and sat down. "She's fine. I escorted her back to Alfheim. She was in no shape to travel the Bifrost alone. Her people were glad to see her and happy to hear Amora was locked up in Asgard. Skurge refused to open the Bifrost for anyone, so none of Alfheim's soldiers had any luck getting into Asgard. That's partially why I'm here besides wanting to check on you. Odin is throwing a peace festival tonight. Aelsa will be there. She personally asked that you be there. But only if you're feeling up to it."
Kyra wanted to say no. Wanted to cover herself in blankets and pretend the world outside didn't exist. She also knew she needed to get up. She'd spent too many years haunted by memories she couldn't even remember. Now she needed to move on. Her parents were dead. There was no bringing them back, but she could still find the truth. She could still get justice. But she wouldn't be able to do that from this bed.
"I'll go whether I feel up to it or not," she said.
"Not like that." Sif stood. "Why don't I clean up this mess while you bathe and change? There are some gowns in the armoire."
"Are you going like that?" Kyra asked, nodding at Sif's armor as she dragged herself out of bed.
Sif gave her a smile. "No. I'll change before the feast. I just don't need as much work as you."
"Point taken. You don't have to clean up my mess, you know. I just…lost control for a minute." She'd felt as if she'd burst if she hadn't released that energy. It scared her to think her powers could be that destructive. She remembered the force with which she'd sent the man flying in her memory. No wonder she'd been given medication to dull her powers. She was a liability.
"It'll only take a few minutes," Sif said, sorting through the books on the floor. "I want to do something to help."
Kyra realized Sif was ashamed for having fallen under Amora's spell. "Sif, that Warlock's Eye nearly controlled me, and I seem to be immune to illusions and spells for the most part. None of what happened was your fault."
"I'm just glad you're back safe. Now go. We don't want to be late."
…
"Are you sure about this dress?" Kyra asked Sif as they walked downstairs together. Twilight had fallen, turning the city into a watercolor painting. It was breath taking, and Kyra realized she'd begun to settle. She looked forward to the next sunset or sunrise. Those were true magic.
"You look beautiful. You'll be the talk of the festival." Sif looked gorgeous in her own gown, a deep aqua blue that hugged her waist and flared out in graceful cascades of fabric. Her dark hair was loose around her shoulders.
Kyra's own dress was a shade of burnished orange that brought out hints of the same shade in her eyes. Delicate beadwork shone in patterns of flowers so realistic they might have been alive. It hugged her body, accentuating her subtle curves and falling gracefully to the floor. The back plunged, exposing her spine while the sleeves capped off over her shoulders. Sif had pulled her long hair into a high ponytail, something simple as the dress spoke for itself. Amber earrings dangled from her ears. Kyra felt self-conscious as they stepped into the celebration. People turned to stare, and she felt her cheeks heating. She felt as if everyone could see straight through her into her memories.
She saw Aelsa standing across the room with a delegation of light elves. They were conversing with Hogun, Volstagg, and Fandral. Kyra found herself scanning the room for a particular person, suddenly terrified to come face-to-face with him after their last encounter. Her mind was a flutter of confusion, her heart torn between her painful memories and the uncertainty that arose every time she thought of Loki.
"Kyra!" Aelsa had caught sight of her and stepped forward to grasp Kyra's hands. She looked otherworldly in a gown made of iridescent fabric butterflies. Her hair shone white, and her pointed ears peeked out through the long strands. "It's wonderful to see you again!"
"You too," Kyra returned. "How are you?"
"Much better thanks to you and–" She caught herself. "Thanks to you," she finished, but Kyra knew what she meant. "I would invite you to join my personal guard, but I think something might keep you in Asgard."
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Kyra mumbled.
"It suits you," Aelsa went on, drawing Kyra apart from the others. Around them, couples whirled in graceful dance. It made Kyra dizzy to watch as she walked the perimeter of the room with the elf queen. She noticed two light elves trailing after them. Clearly Aelsa's guards were taking their job extra seriously after Amora's deception. "One would hardly believe you are of Earth the way you glow here."
"It's funny. Even though I haven't been here long, I feel as if I belong. When I first came here I was this frightened, nervous girl who jumped at shadows and thought the world was out to get her. It hasn't been that long, and yet I've been through so much. I've learned more about myself and my past than I ever did in the last nineteen years. I realized the medication the doctors gave me all my life were what caused me the nervous breakdowns and panic attacks. All along I thought they were to help me, but they were only to keep my powers at bay. Someone didn't want me to find out what I could do. I still have so many questions though. I don't want to leave, but…"
"You can't find the answers you seek here," Aelsa finished for her, understanding warming her words.
"Exactly."
"But you're afraid to go."
"I'm afraid if I go, I might lose who I've become. I might revert to that scared girl who let others dictate her life for so long." Kyra stopped, turning to face Aelsa. "Here I feel like I belong, but on Earth… There I'd just be an abnormality. Maybe I am anyway. My abilities aren't magical. They were created in a lab by my own parents. I was never meant to have them."
"Maybe you weren't born with your abilities, but you wield them like you were," Aelsa told her. "Whether you were meant to have them or not, you do. Now you must decide how you will use them."
"I want the truth. I want to fill in the gaps from my past. I want revenge for my parents' deaths." How could she move on when she was still in the past, when she was still left wondering 'why'?
"Is that all you want?" The elf queen gave her a radiant smile and suddenly moved off, her guards following her. Kyra turned and found herself facing Loki. He wore not his Odin guise, but the guise of the guard. He stood still, waiting for her to either walk away or come to him. She wavered a moment. Then she walked straight to him.
"I never properly thanked you for everything you did for me," she said. "You didn't have to relive those memories with me, but you did. Difficult as they were to watch, I needed to know."
"That was the smallest compensation after what you did for me," he told her, lips twitching in a subtle smile.
"Does that mean you still owe me a favor?" Kyra asked, her tone mischievous.
"You mean you haven't been counting?"
The way he was looking at her made her bold, and she spoke before she had the chance to take her words back. "Will you ask me to dance?" She'd never danced before, but it looked so graceful, so alive. She wanted to feel that alive, wanted to be held in Loki's arms where she realized she felt safe. So much had changed in so short a time, but she wasn't the same person who'd first tripped into Asgard. Somehow, she didn't think he was the same either. He'd changed, too. There was less hostility that she now recognized as distrustfulness, less cutting remarks and threats. He no longer looked at her as if she was a liability, like she was a threat to him. He looked at her like… She wasn't sure. She couldn't read the expression in his eyes. Thoughtful, perhaps? She hoped she hadn't overstepped their unspoken boundaries.
Then he reached out a slender hand. "Would you like to dance?" he asked, a smile curving his lips. His black hair was neatly brushed, falling across his shoulders in subtle waves. His eyes appeared more blue tonight than green, striking against his pale skin.
"I would, thank you," she told him, setting her hand in his. "I'll warn you. I don't know the first thing about dancing."
"Don't worry," he said, pulling her close so quickly that she had to catch herself against his chest with one hand. The breath left her lungs as their faces came within inches of each other. "I'll catch you if you trip."
He placed one hand on the small of her back, holding her other, and she brought up her free hand to grip his shoulder. "You don't have to hold on that tightly," he chuckled. "Dancing isn't like riding a horse."
For how breathless she was, it might as well have been. They began to sway, Loki leading as they moved between the other couples. She hardly noticed them. It was just her and Loki and the music that floated around them.
"You have an awful lot of parties and feasts in Asgard," Kyra said, unable to think of anything else to say.
Loki lifted a brow. "And you don't on Midgard?"
"Oh, people love to party. I always actively avoided parties. They made me nervous. Loud music and people made me nervous. Everything made me nervous." She'd declined several invitations from fellow students before they'd stopped asking altogether.
"But not now?"
"Not so much anymore. I mean I've faced a couple of Bilgesnipe and an evil sorceress. Parties don't seem so bad anymore." Particularly not this one. She shivered when Loki's fingers brushed the bare skin on her back where her dress cut off. His mouth twisted up in a small smile, and she knew he was aware of the effect it was having on her. She tried to play it cool, but she was suddenly lost for words.
"I'm glad you approve."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well," he said, tilting his head to the side, "I remember a time not long ago that you might have criticized me for such extravagance."
"No," Kyra corrected, "I criticized you for wanting to write a play about your heroics. Tonight your people have cause for celebration." She looked around and saw the smiles on their faces. "They're safe because of you." Maybe he didn't make such a bad king after all.
"And you. I couldn't have done any of that without you," he added softly, the look in his eyes sincere.
She shrugged self-consciously. "Why don't we call it even? I'm tired of games." He didn't owe her anything.
"I wasn't aware we were playing a game."
Kyra's mind became muddled as he spun her. Her back hit his chest lightly, and his arm came to rest across her stomach. "If we were, I'd probably be winning," he breathed into her ear. Her breath came out in short spurts until he released her and resumed their dance.
"What, no witty comeback?" he asked, a smirk curving his lips.
Kyra opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her cheeks flushed as he chuckled softly. When the song ended, Kyra wished it could keep going. Loki dropped his hands, and she was left feeling cold and alone though he lingered before her.
"Shouldn't you be making an appearance as Odin?" she asked, not meeting his eyes.
"He's right over there," Loki said, and Kyra turned to see an illusion of Odin chatting with some courtiers across the hall.
"It must be nice not to be him for a night."
"I'd rather be myself," he said quietly, and she turned to look at him.
"I don't know," she said, pretending to consider, "the guard guise is a definite improvement. Just look at that chiseled jaw." His jaw twitched.
"I'll be sure to give him a wart next time."
"I can see you," she said, the words slipping from her mouth before she could stop them. His eyes lit up a little. "I can always see the true you."
She'd done a lot of thinking earlier. Thinking about where she belonged, about what she wanted. She knew if she asked, he'd let her stay here forever. Forever to her was much shorter than it was to him, but she wanted to believe he'd want her to stay. It would have been easy to push aside her past and start anew. And yet… And yet she couldn't. She couldn't forget what had happened when it was so fresh in her memories. She was owed answers, owed revenge if she could still take it, justice if she could still find it. She couldn't find answers on Asgard, and she couldn't get her revenge. Both lay on Earth, so that was where she needed to go.
"Can I talk to you?" she asked before she could lose her nerve and forget she'd ever considered it.
"That sounds ominous," he said, but he moved away from the dance floor with her, out onto one of the parapets that overlooked the city. The night air caressed Kyra's skin, and she shivered a little. The sun had almost fully set, and it was a myriad of colors across the lake, glowing at the edge of the heavens where the constellations twinkled into sight.
"It's so beautiful here," she said aloud. "I think I could get used to this." She was aware of Loki's eyes on her instead of the sunset. "But I can't. I can't stay here when there are answers out there about my parents and my abilities…" She flexed her fingers, unsure of the power beneath her skin. It had been so exciting when she'd first discovered it, but now it felt like an intruder inside her body. She was never meant to have it in the first place.
"What are you saying?" his tone was sharper than she'd expected, and she looked over to find him watching her intently, waiting for her reply.
"I have to go back to Earth. I have to find answers, and I'm not going to find them here." Once the words were out, she wished she could have taken them back. She felt as if something fragile was shattering, and she could sense him pulling away. "I don't want to go. I don't want to leave Asgard, and I don't want to go back there."
"You don't have to justify yourself to me. I'm not going to force you to stay." He turned away from her, resting his closed fists on the parapet wall.
"I know that. I know I don't have to justify myself." She felt frustration welling up. Why did everything have to be so difficult with him? "I just thought it might be nice to tell you instead of disappearing."
"When are you leaving?" He still wouldn't look at her.
"Probably first thing tomorrow." Maybe if had reacted differently she might have stayed longer, but she wasn't going to watch him pout.
"I suppose there's nothing for you here." His words were cold and cut her deeper than she expected.
"Loki…"
"I should go see to my guests." He left her without another word, and Kyra let out a frustrated growl.
"Still having trouble with that guard?" Kyra jumped as Sif approached her, a knowing smile on her face.
"He's so incredibly infuriating," Kyra told her, wishing she could tell her the whole truth. She hated lying to her friend. "One minute I think we're getting along and the next…"
"Men." Sif let out a sigh. "But usually when they act like that it's because they're too afraid to say what's really on their minds. They don't like to talk about their feelings."
"Feelings?" Kyra felt flushed suddenly. "Who said anything about feelings?" Her words came out high-pitched, panicked.
Sif's smile widened. "I can tell when two people are too afraid to admit their feelings for each other. Clearly all that knife training sparked something."
"Maybe a deep-rooted frustration." Kyra turned away so Sif couldn't see her blush. "I haven't known him long enough to have feelings for him. Not like that."
Sif shrugged, leaning against the parapet wall next to Kyra. "Sometimes it's not about time. Attraction certainly isn't about time. To feel something deeper, yes, that takes longer, but sometimes it's all right to admit you're interested in someone even if they don't reciprocate." Kyra turned to look at her, wondering if she were speaking from experience. "But I would say the interest is reciprocated."
"Then why did he stalk off like that?"
"What did you say to him?" Sif lifted an eyebrow.
"Why do you think I was the one who said something?" Kyra asked indignantly then sighed. "I told him I was going back to Earth. I need answers about my past. What Amora showed me…there are still gaps. I don't know a lot of the whys and some of the hows. I don't know the full extent of my powers or if my parents' murderer is still out there somewhere."
"That sounds dangerous."
"Yes, I suppose it does."
"That's probably why he stormed off then," Sif said knowingly. "He's worried for your safety. He wants to protect you, but he can't do it from here."
"I'm not sure he's at all worried about me."
"You underestimate yourself, Kyra. You might be human, but humans can be astonishingly brave and intelligent. You remind me of someone who recently visited Asgard from Earth. Thor's beloved."
"Thor is in love with a mortal?" Kyra asked, eyes widening at the thought.
"He is." Sif's voice was wistful, and suddenly Kyra knew exactly who'd she'd been speaking of when she'd mentioned someone not reciprocating feelings.
"Has that ever happened before between a mortal and an Asgardian?" Her thoughts danced to Loki, but she dragged them back before they could go down that path. She still adamantly refused to acknowledge any feelings she might or might not have.
"Throughout history, Asgardians would sometimes take Midgardians as lovers, but typically we stick to our own kind. Mortals live such short lives, and we live on for hundreds of thousands of years."
"Do Asgardians ever die? Of old age, I mean?"
"We can, yes. Even we have our limits. We bleed as humans, and we eventually grow old."
"Give or take a few hundred thousand years." She couldn't imagine living such a long time. She didn't think she'd want to.
"If you really are leaving for Earth tomorrow, you should talk to him," Sif nudged her arm. "You'll feel better."
"I'm not sure he'll listen."
"Then make him. You hardly have trouble making yourself heard. You've come a long way since you first arrived as you said. I'll miss you while you're on Earth though. I hope you're planning on coming back."
"I hope so too." Kyra squeezed her friend's hand. "Thank you for everything you've done for me. And thank you for the advice."
Sif smiled at her. "Sometimes you just have to take a chance. Be impulsive. It keeps life interesting."
The festivities were still in full swing when Kyra returned to the dance floor, but she could see Loki nowhere. His Odin guise was watching the merriment from the side of the room. Aelsa stood chatting with a group of Asgardians, her guards hovering nearby. There was no sign of Loki in his guard-guise or any other. She closed her eyes and concentrated on his magic.
A familiarity crept across her skin, and she followed it out of the festival hall and down the corridor to the throne room. It frightened her that they were connected in this way. She didn't know if Loki could sense her magic the way she could his. She could sense his illusions but when she arrived in the throne room, he wore no guise. He stood before the throne, arms crossed, blending in with the shadows in his usual black and green. Kyra felt nerves skittering across her skin and forced herself not to leave.
"What do you want from me?" she asked. Her words echoed too loudly in the hall, but he didn't start. He had known she was there all along.
"What makes you think I want anything from you?" he asked. His tone came out weary instead of angry.
"You threw a fit when I told you I was leaving." This made him turn around.
"A fit? I'd hardly call that a fit. Why would I care if you want to go get yourself killed on Earth?" He narrowed his eyes, arms still crossed.
His words stung. "If you don't care, then why did you save my life? Why did you carry me to safety after I passed out? Why did you do anything to help me?" Her frustration welled up inside of her, clamoring to be let out. "No matter what I do, we always end up here, at each other's throats for no good reason. I don't owe you anything, and yet here I am trying to make amends before I go."
He uncrossed his arms, face softening slightly. "I don't want to see you get hurt," he admitted.
"That's not what you just said."
"Sometimes I don't mean what I say. You should know better than anyone."
She did know when he was lying, but it didn't lessen the blow of his words. She let out a resigned breath. "I would like to part as friends," she said. "Can we do that at least?"
He considered her for a moment. "Friends."
"Is that so impossible?"
"Is that what you really want? To part as friends."
"Would you rather we part as enemies?" She wanted to throw her arms up in the air, storm out of the room. She was tired of his riddles.
"I'd rather you stop lying to yourself." His words hung in the air, and Kyra stopped breathing a moment.
Did she want them to part as friends? Yes, that was no lie. The lie was in telling herself she didn't want more. She stood, uncertain, then took a step forward. Then another. She stopped a few feet in front of him, eyes narrowed inquisitively.
"I thought we'd agreed to stop playing games," she said. "I came here to make amends. If you want something else from me, just take it."
He watched her silently as if considering what he wanted from her. She waited, ready to turn and walk away. His eyes took her in, traveling from her eyes to her lips and back again, a smile lifting his lips. "I'm coming with you to Midgard."
"What?" Of all the words he could have said, she hadn't expected that. "Why?"
"Because despite what I said earlier, I don't want to see you get hurt. I want to help you get answers."
"But you just got your throne back from Amora. You'd leave it? For me?" She was confused. This was his world, his life, his throne that he'd fought and tricked his way into. Now he was going to give it up, at least temporarily, to help her find answers about her past on Earth?
He shrugged. "It gets a bit dull being Odin sometimes. I'll disguise myself as the guard. I'll be your official escort. I can keep up an Odin guise while we're gone or at least make up some excuse about him being ill from food poisoning or something. No one will suspect a thing."
"You're serious." She was still staring at him, disbelieving.
"I am."
"Okay." She didn't know what to say. This wasn't the outcome she'd been expecting. "Then I guess I'll see you tomorrow." She hesitated, but he just watched her. "Thank you." She wouldn't have to do this alone. She wouldn't have to leave everything behind in Asgard. She turned to leave the hall, stomach fluttering with excitement. She made it a few steps before she stopped.
Sometimes you just have to take a chance. Be impulsive. It keeps life interesting, Sif had told her. Kyra's heart began pounding beneath her skin. She turned and found that Loki hadn't moved. He stood watching her, waiting for her to move. She started walking back to him, quickening her steps before she could lose her courage. She was about to do something incredibly stupid, but somehow she couldn't seem to stop herself.
When she reached him, she didn't stop. She reached up, grasping the collar of his shirt, and pressed her lips to his. At first nothing happened. He stood still, hands at his sides, mouth unyielding. She thought she'd made a terrible mistake, that she'd completely misjudged whatever it was growing between them. Then his hands were on her hips, warm and possessive, and his lips were moving against hers.
She hadn't made a mistake after all.
She slid her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, silky soft like night itself. He pulled her closer until their bodies were flush. She wondered if he could feel her heart pounding spastically beneath her skin. He deepened the kiss, one hand coming up to gently cup the back of her head. Their magic mingled, connecting in a way that left Kyra feeling dizzy and full. She never wanted to pull away. She wanted to drink him in until she was overflowing.
When they broke apart for air, he grasped her waist, lifting her up onto the throne and leaning in to kiss her again. The throne was hard against her back, but she hardly noticed. She felt as if her heart might leap straight out of her chest. Her skin was on fire, her veins racing with magic. She traced her fingers across his jaw, his skin cool and smooth under her touch. He leaned forward, hands braced against the back of the throne on either side of her.
He slid his lips down her jaw. "What have you done to me, Kyra Winters?" he spoke against her skin before pulling back a little, eyes dancing green with blue flames at their centers. She blinked at him, hazy from the memory of his lips on hers.
"You still owed me a favor," she said, her voice coming out breathless. He'd stolen the breath from her lungs.
His lips quirked up in a mischievous smile. "I thought we weren't playing games anymore."
"This isn't a game," she told him, leaning forward and kissing him again. "I don't know what it is." She hardly had time to speak before he pressed his lips to hers again.
"Does it have to be anything? Can't we just enjoy the moment?" He slipped his hands behind her back, pulling her closer, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.
"You talk too much," she accused, and he smirked at her. "As do you," he returned.
"Why me?" she had to ask, and he laughed lightly.
"I thought we were done talking."
"You're a king. You could have anyone." She knew she was ruining the moment, but doubt had crept into her mind. If this was something, if it had the potential to lead to something, then she needed to know if he felt the same.
"I thought I'd made it very clear that I'd chosen you," he said, pulling her to her feet. "You've got this fire in you, and I'm drawn to it. It might end up burning us both, but I think it's worth the risk."
"We hardly know each other."
"I have a very long time to get to know you. Kyra, you're overthinking this. I'm not asking anything of you. I'm not asking you to commit the rest of your life to me. I'm not even asking you to kiss me again. Unless you want to." She did. Very much so, but she let him talk. "Let's just see where this leads. If it doesn't lead anywhere, then you still have my word that I'll help you find out the truth of your past. There's a very good chance that you'll change your mind about me along the way. I know I'm not the easiest to get along with. To trust. Just one word from you, and I'll back down."
"You're being much too sweet. How do I know this isn't an illusion?" she asked, prodding him in the chest.
"Hey. I can be nice." He feigned hurt over her words. He leaned down to kiss her once again, sweetly this time, slowly. "You should rest before tomorrow," he said when they broke apart though he looked disappointed at his own words.
Kyra wanted to reject his words, but she nodded, sobering. Tomorrow she would start hunting for answers, and she had no idea where to start. She squeezed his hand. "Thank you," she told him again, "for coming with me. I'm not so afraid anymore."
"If anyone understands dysfunctional families, it's me," he told her. "I understand wanting to know the truth, and I know the pain of being lied to. Sometimes the truth hurts but it's preferable to living a lie. I'll meet you in the stables tomorrow morning. Sif brought Asta back, so we'll take her across the rainbow bridge."
She let go of his hand. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Kyra."
She walked away feeling much more satisfied and whole than when she'd entered the throne room. Her skin was alive, and her heart was throbbing in a deliciously painful way. Sif was right; acting on impulse could be very interesting.