Page 19 of Tempest Awakening
He moved with liquid grace, closing the distance between us in the blink of an eye. "That's not a toy for untrained hands, little librarian," he murmured, his voice like sin incarnate.
My heart thundered in my chest, a mix of fear and... something else, something primal and hungry that I'd never felt before. Heat pooled in my core, my skin tingling everywhere his gaze touched.
I should have been terrified, but instead, I felt... alive.
"I... I didn't mean to," I stammered, fighting to keep my voice steady. "It just... reacted to me."
His eyes narrowed, flickering between my face and the still-glowing pendant. "Interesting," he mused, reaching out to touch the opal. The moment his fingers brushed mine, an electric current surged between us.
"Who are you?" I breathed.
A slow, dangerous smile curved his full lips. "Ciaran," he replied, his thumb tracing small circles on my wrist, sending shivers of pleasure racing up my arm. "And you, Tempest Whittaker, are far more intriguing than I expected."
My eyes widened. "How do you know my name?"
"I make it my business to know everything that happens in this library," he said, his free hand coming up to cup my cheek. The touch was gentle, at odds with the predatory gleam in his eyes. "Especially when it involves someone as... unique as you."
I should have pulled away. Every logical part of my brain screamed that this was dangerous, that I was out of my depth. But logic had no place in this moment. I leaned into his touch, craving more of that electric connection.
"What's happening?" I whispered, my voice husky with an unfamiliar yearning.
Ciaran's eyes darkened, swirling with shadows. "The pendant is reacting to you, little one. In a way I've never seen before. You're not magical, yet it responds as if you were. Curious indeed."
As if in response to his words, the fire opal pulsed with renewed intensity. Ciaran's eyes narrowed, curiosity flickering across his features. He reached into a hidden pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small, translucent crystal.
"Let's see what this little trinket can really do," he murmured, holding the crystal close to the pendant.
The moment the two objects neared each other, the crystal blazed to life. A mist erupted from its core, coalescing into a vivid, three-dimensional scene that hovered in the air between us.
I gasped as I found myself looking at a younger version of Ciaran, his face etched with grief and rage. He stood in a devastated landscape, buildings crumbling around him and the sky dark with smoke. Beside him loomed a massive dragon, its scales a shimmering obsidian.
"Veldor," Ciaran's voice in the vision cracked with emotion, "we have to do something. We can't let their deaths be in vain."
The dragon's reply echoed in my mind, a deep, resonant voice tinged with sorrow."What you propose is dangerous, but we should—"
Before I could hear more, Ciaran snatched the crystal away, severing the connection. The vision dissipated like mist in sunlight, leaving me blinking in confusion and a strange sense of loss.
"That's quite enough of that," Ciaran said, his voice tight. He pocketed the crystal, his eyes never leaving my face. "It seems this pendant is more potent than I anticipated."
"What... what was that?" I asked, my mind reeling from the brief but intense glimpse into what I assumed was Ciaran's past. "That dragon, Veldor... I heard his voice in my head."
A shadow passed over Ciaran's face, his silver eyes darkening with an emotion I couldn't quite name. "A memory," he said softly, "from a time best left in the past." His gaze sharpened, focusing on me with renewed intensity. "But the fact that you could see and hear it... that's unprecedented."
I felt a shiver run down my spine. "What does it mean?"
Ciaran's lips curved into a small smile. "It means, my dear Tempest, that you are far more interesting than I initially thought." He leaned in close, his breath ghosting over my ear as he whispered, "And believe me, I already found you quite fascinating."
The heat of his proximity sent a jolt of awareness through my body, making me acutely conscious of every point where we almost touched. I swallowed hard, trying to gather my scattered thoughts. "Who are you really, Ciaran? What aren't you telling me?"
He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine. For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of vulnerability in their silver depths, quickly masked. "I'm someone with many secrets, little librarian. Secrets that could be dangerous for you to know."
"I'm not afraid," I said, surprising myself with the conviction in my voice.
Ciaran's smile widened, a predatory edge to it that sent another shiver through me—this time, not entirely of fear. "Perhaps you should be," he murmured.
"I don't understand. What do you mean?"
He threaded his fingers through my hair, tilting my head back to meet his gaze. The heat in his eyes made me weak at the knees. "You're awakening something, Tempest. Something powerful... and dangerous."
