When he let me go, I slumped forward, completely exhausted. He leaned down and pressed kisses along my spine, his breath hot against my skin. The action was oddly tender—the aftershock of brutality softened with small acts of affection.
He untied the blindfold and lifted it away, fingers lingering on my cheeks as if checking I was still whole. “You good?” he asked.
I couldn’t even lift a limb, and when I responded, my lips were barely moving. “I’m not.”
He chuckled low in his chest, the sound a beautiful music to my ears. We lay there for a few minutes, gathering the pieces of ourselves.
Thrax finally hauled me up and carried me to the bathroom because I was too exhausted to walk properly. He set me down gently on the tiles and did most of the washing since all my body wanted was to sleep. Warm water ran over us, washing away the salt and sweat and the evidence of what we did.
He dried my hair, and I slid into one of his shirts, his scent swallowing me. We went back to the bed wrapped in the quiet aftercare, his arm around my ribs, chest pressed to my back where I could feel the slow beat of him.
I exhaled a long, ragged breath and felt something like contentment settle in my bones. I felt cared for, cradled in a way only Thrax could show—with both animal hunger and walloping tenderness.
Outside, the rain had slowed and the screeches were gone. The thunder was now a low, rolling thing, as if the world itself was done raging when we climaxed.
I rested my hand over his on my stomach and sighed. He was warm and steady beneath my palm.
“When you saved me from the Pylath that day, did you undress me to cleanse the poison from my body?” I asked, sleepy and half curious.
“Hmm.” He murmured against my hair. “When did you figure that out?”
“Over time,” I yawned.
We lay in the silence for a while, the sound of rain a lullaby to my ears.
“Sweet dreams,Nher,” his deep voice rumbled, soft and gruff at the same time.
“What doesNhermean?” I asked.
I was already on the sweet edge of sleep when he finally responded. “It means light.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
SANORA
I opened my eyes.
I was back in the cave.
And I was lying on the ground.
Groaning—because somehow my whole body ached for reasons I didn’t know—I pushed myself up into a sitting position. My head throbbed as I looked around, and for a dizzy second, I thought I was exactly where I’d been the last time, but no. I was at the mouth of the cave, not beside Thrax.
I hauled myself to my feet, braced a palm against the wall for support, and walked back inside towards where he had been lying.
Only he wasn’t there. Someone else was.
My feet went forward of their own accord and then stopped because the sight stole my breath. It was the offspring.
My eyes widened as I staggered back a step, one hand flying to my mouth. My heart slammed so hard it hurt at the sight before me.
She lay sprawled across the floor, a figure who was once white, glowing and incandescent was now...black. Her radiance dress looked as if someone had dunked it in soot...even the silver-thread of her hair was as dark as night.
She drew ragged breaths, each one a small, painful effort. In one fist, she clutched a long metallic object with sharp ends. A pin-like thing, but thicker and longer.
Thrax knelt beside her, and I took a step closer, compelled and horrified both, until I stood over him. His eyes were fixed on her, and I had never seen him like...that.Thrax’s face was folded into something so devastating it rewired the inside of me. I’d seen him sad once before among those memorial stone stacks in one of my dreams. But this was beyond that. The devastation in his face was deeper than sadness—guilt, horror, sorrow, grief, regret, everything was moulded in his expression.
They looked at one another, unsaid words passing between them. She lifted her fragile hand slowly, the one that held the pin, and placed it on his thigh.
