“Do you need anything else?” Auriel asked.
“No.”
His arm wrapped around me. “Now sleep,” he whispered.
I let out a shuddering breath, and closed my eyes, listening to his slow, even breaths. I was asleep within seconds, realizing only at the last second, as unconsciousness was taking me, that Auriel was still wearing his armor.
And whether it was thanks to the Gods, or Auriel’s presence, his body acting like a balm for mine—a deceit of Rhyan’s body—I slept. But I didn’t dream.
My eyes opened early the next morning. Auriel’s arm was still wrapped around me, his hand resting on my hip. Warm.
Familiar.
But wrong.
I started to shift away and sit up, but his hand flattened against me.
“Hey,” he said, his voice groggy. “You’re up?”
“Mmmmhmmm.” I turned around, laying on my side to face him. There were some dark circles under his eyes, and his curls were mussed, but otherwise, he looked like he did the night before.
“Hey,” he said again, his eyes soft and still heavy with sleep.
“Hi,” I breathed. “Did you sleep okay?”
He winced. “Not really.”
“Because of me?” I asked, a little embarrassed.
His eyes darkened, grazing down my body, then back up to my face. “Well, I haven’t had to share my bed with a mortal in a long time.” He winked. “And you kick a lot.”
“I do not!” I yelled.
He laughed. “Okay, you don’t.”
I rolled my eyes, and pushed playfully at his shoulder. He was still wearing his armor, which I imagined couldn’t have been comfortable. I sat up suddenly, feeling shy at how close we were and got off the bed, trying to put some distance between us.
But when I looked back, he was struggling to sit up, and wincing. His neck was turning red. Then he flinched when his armor seemed to push against him.
My eyes narrowed. “Auriel, why did you sleep in your armor?”
His lips tugged down. “I forgot to remove it—another mortal body thing I have to remember.”
“You’re lying,” I said. His face was pinched, his words had been clipped. “You’re in pain.”
“No,” he said.
I felt it suddenly in his aura. Hewasin pain. “Then take your armor off,” I said.
“Trying to get me naked?” He winked, but it looked like it hurt him to do it.
“Auriel?” I asked.
All the humor he was attempting drained from his face.
Finally, he sat up. But he was moving slowly, and looked like he was having trouble breathing. Like just sitting up in the bed had been too much effort.
“You couldn’t take your armor off, could you?” I said, searching his eyes. “You’re hurt.”
