Kavio
Dindi moaned in his arms as Kavio kissed her.
Kavio, what in the name of the Seven Faeries are you doing? He could almost hear his father's angry voice in his head. It took real effort to pull himself away from Dindi.
She swayed in his arms, lips parted, eyes soft and confused—and no wonder. The magic of all six Chromas still danced around them, stirred up by his performance. He had just proved again that she had no magic. And yet here he was, drowning her in every spell of the spectrum.
It was unfair. He had magic she couldn't even see, let alone defend against. She was also in a weaker position because of their strange agreement.
Then her eyes cleared, like waking from a dream. She stiffened. Her cheeks burned with shame. She touched her lips, still sore from his kiss.
Stop putting your own desire onto her, you fool, he told himself.
When he had first begun to notice girls, his father had warned him how dangerous his magic could be. You could hex a girl into surrendering, his father had said. The hard part will be hiding it from me. Kavio had felt insulted then. Now he saw how easy it was—not just to fool someone else, but to fool yourself.
"I shouldn't have done that," he said, stepping back. The glow around him faded and closed. "I'm your teacher now. I shouldn't… let myself do that."
"If I had magic—"
Yes. It would be different. But he looked away.
"It won't happen again, Dindi. I give you my word."
"Purple."
He blinked.
"Purple," she said again. "You showed me the Chromas, and still none stood out to me. So let's begin with Purple patterns, and then go back toward Red."
"Right," he said. "Good. We'll do that."
He took a deep breath. "First, let's throw down salt, to stop the leftover magic from my last dance."
He felt better once his hands were busy. It helped quiet his thoughts. Teaching stops desire, he joked to himself.
"Each Chroma has its strengths," he explained, "and also its dangers. Red means power, but it can explode in anger. Orange means reason, but can become cold and cruel. Yellow heals, but can spoil. Green loves and gives, but sometimes clings too tight. Blue cleans, but it also freezes. Purple brings courage—but sometimes foolish courage."
"People often show the same traits as their strongest Chroma. Reds are hot-tempered. Oranges can be cold. Yellows may try to control others. Greens get too sentimental. Blues become too harsh. And Purples can be so brave they're crazy."
"And what about people with all six Chromas?" Dindi asked. Her eyes had a spark again. He liked that better than the hurt he had seen before. "What's your weakness, Kavio?"
You, he thought. As crazy as that sounds.
Why should one unmagic girl interest him so much? It couldn't be love. He barely knew her. And he didn't believe in the silly idea that people fell in love the first time their auras touched.
It must be the mystery, he told himself. How could someone dance so well and still have no magic? It didn't make sense. You're a riddle I have to solve. That's all. I can't let you go until I understand you. But it can't become anything more.
"I suppose you think you don't have any weaknesses," she said.
Kavio snorted. "Hardly."
"Well then? What is it?"
"My mother said I had the same weakness she did. The same weakness all the Aelfae had. The weakness their enemies used to Curse them."
Her eyes went wide. "And what was that?"
"Curiosity."