I close my eyes for a moment until I have my bearings. When I open them again, I know what we have to do. “Damien may want to keep me safe, but he’s not a slave to his mating instincts and he trusts me.” I think about my time fighting in the challenge against Valeska. “He’s smart, and he’s rational. All we have to do is convince him there is no other way.”
Nyx nods her agreement. “I hope, for Stygarde’s sake, that you’re right.”
37
Thunder on the Mountain
DAMIEN
For a few days, I’m satisfied with my mate’s steady recovery. She’s more distant than usual, but who wouldn’t be distant after what she’s been through. We talk about it, her experience in the dungeon and in that room. The one thing I refuse to discuss is the visitation she mentioned from the dragon of Paragon. I am still not sure if she hallucinated it or if it was real, but on the few times she’s tried to bring it up again, I’ve avoided the issue. I also refuse to discuss the so-called prophecy Aurora made that Catarina believes is about Eloise.
No matter what the witch or my meddling mother says, I simply will not allow her to die for some whiff of a chance of getting her power back.
We’re safe here. The borders of Dimhollow have never been breached. And as much as I want revenge against Brahm and Adril, I will not take it until I know she’s safe and well.
But tonight, as we sit at the table inside the one-room cabin Catarina loaned us while Eloise recovers, I notice her cheeks are full and pink and her physical wounds have healed. Still, her mood is sour. She swirls the blood in her goblet and glowers at the fire.
“Are you well, little bird?”
“I’m fine.”
“Your wounds have healed. You look stronger.”
“Physically, I’m the same as I was before.”
“And mentally?”
“I’m happy that vampires don’t dream. I have no risk of nightmares.”
I smile and take another bite of my food. But the blood I’ve procured for her remains untouched. I gave up trying to be her only source of nourishment. Her recovery has required more than what I could give her.
“We can’t stay in this place forever, Damien,” she snaps, her eyes filled with green fire.
“No,” I agree calmly. “I have already begun clearing a spot higher on the mountain to build us a larger cottage, one that will serve as our permanent residence.”
She drops her hand into her lap. “I’m not talking about the cottage. Your people are suffering. Have you thought about what it must be like to live in the west villages right now after they refused again to bend the knee?”
“Nothing can be done.”
“If I had access to my power?—”
“I’m not watching you die based on the woolly vision of a witch on her deathbed, no matter how much I respected Aurora,” I say, drowning out her words. “It’s madness. And we are not risking your life based on what might have been a hallucination brought on by blood loss.”
“Hallucination! Vampires don’t dream. We certainly don’t hallucinate. I met Nathaniel, Damien. I believe what he told me about how to reconnect to my power.”
“No,” I growl, slapping the table hard enough to rattle the dishes. “I will not allow it.”
She stands so fast she knocks over her chair. “I don’t need your permission. All I need is a witch strong enough to tether me while I walk the shadowpath.”
“Then I will make sure no witch dares to help you.”
Her hand flinches like she wants to go for her dagger, but she holds herself back. Instead, she storms from the table, shoves her feet into her boots, and grabs her coat.
“Where are you going?” I demand.
“I’m not sure. Somewhere away from you.”
Her words cut deep, and I get to my feet, raising my hand to beseech her to stay. “Do you know how ridiculous you sound? Angry at me because I won’t let you die…again. Has it slipped past that self-sabotaging brain of yours that this will be your third attempt at death? Are you making it a habit?”
