My hand hesitates over the handle, before I steel myself and slowly turn it. Rio smiles at me in encouragement as I slip inside. I catch him stepping over my own doorway as I push the door closed and turn, holding my breath steady in my chest.
Callan’s space is a mirror of my own, and equally as bare. No rugs line the floor, and few belongings sit on the dresser across from me. But my heartbeat settles in my chest at the scent that fills the room, the quiet rasp of steady breathing.
No difference, aside from the male sleeping in the bed.
I stay where I am for several minutes. Watching the way his back gleams in the light from the still-lit lantern beside him, spilling amber light across an expanse of golden skin. Callan is sprawled on his stomach; his arms wrapped around a pillow and his face hidden from my view.
Already, I feel steadier. Even as my chest settles,eases, my embarrassment at the thought of being caught like this—staring at him in the middle of the night, has me reaching for the door handle.
He shifts. The linen wrapped around his hips moves, and blood rushes back into my face fast enough to make me dizzy as I turn away.
This is enough. Just… seeing him is enough to chase away the last of the darkness that haunted my waking steps.
My hand turns—
“Going somewhere?”
The high-pitched yelp that escapes my throat as I whirl around may be the least elegant noise I have ever made. “I thought you were asleep!”
“I was.” The rough tone gives credence to his words as he twists, pushing himself upright and giving me a glimpse of rumpled hair and sleep-heavy bronze eyes before he stretches out a muscled arm for his trousers, carelessly discarded on the floor. My flush grows as I toss my eyes up to the ceiling. “Though my dreams made me wish I were not. What’s wrong?”
I focus on a small, discolored patch on the ceiling. “Nothing.”
I need a glass of water. My throat feels as though it has dried completely.
“Selene.”
Oh, gods. I need him to stop talking like… that. There is a rasp to his voice—almost a growl—that I haven’t heard before, and it turns my stomach to a twisting, gnarled mess as I try to swallowand my words get caught in my throat. A small noise of apology slips out as I turn away, my hand twisting the handle to escape—
He moves so fast, I barely feel the shift in the air before the heat of his bare chest is only an inch away. He slowly pushes the door closed, his arm beside my burning cheek.
Perhaps it’s not me, but him. All I feel is heat, with him surrounding me, chasing away the lingering chill.
His low whisper brushes against the shell of my ear, and I cannot decide if I’m burning or ice-cold. “Tell me. Are you still feeling unwell? I can go for Matthias.”
As I search for the words, Callan’s eyes sweep down my body. They pause, and I know what he’s found. His fingers are gentle as he lifts my wrists, inspecting them.
“I could not sleep.” I whisper the admission into his neck. It feels easier than looking into his face. “My dreams were not pleasant either.”
I wonder what he dreamed about. Callan exhales, the rough pads of his fingers still tracing the broken skin at my wrists.
I wait for the assurance. For the soft words intended to ease my passage back to sleep, although I know his efforts will be in vain. But I want them anyway.
I don’t want to talk about the letter. Or the Never, or Petyr, or any of it. I don’t want tothink.
He steps back, and I feel the loss of that warmth as though the sun has vanished behind a cloud. But he keeps my hand, dropping one and lacing his fingers through the other. Our eyes collide, only to dance away.
“A bath,” he says hoarsely. “Would you like to visit the springs? Or the pipes would work, if you’d prefer to go back to your room—,”
My thrumming pulse steadies as I shake my head. “I’d like to go to the springs.”
I don’t want to return to my room. But I can’t voice the need lingering on my tongue. “Besides, my room is occupied. I told Rio to take Esme inside. She was sleeping.”
“Ah.” I feel him studying me. “The springs it is, then.”
I lift my foot, running it over my lower leg. The words tumble out. “You’ll come?”
A light squeeze of my fingers. “You’re not going down there alone.”
