His black riding cape billowed in the wind as he left down the steps.
Aydra forced her body to slow its shake. The memory of his fire flooded her core, and the pain of it pushed itself to the surface. Simply seeing him there again after this week of what felt like being in another universe caused her core to shatter. The wet of a tear dripped down her face, and she pulled her knees into her chest, allowing the pillows on the head of the bed to wrap around her as she willed her hyper breaths to even, forcing air into her lungs upon her body threatening to lapse.
She heard his voice shouting, and then the unmistakeable noise of the slew of horses they’d brought in started, and after a few moments, she could hear nothing more than the noise of the wind through the trees.
They are gone, the raven told her upon its flying in.The Venari King is coming.
Aydra wiped her face fast and sat up on the edge of the bed as Draven’s feet hit the top deck. He slowed upon seeing her, and she pushed the encounter with her brother to the back of her mind.
He paused in the door and wrapped his arms around his chest, leaning against the door frame. “Did you call for him?” he asked.
Her eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring. “Excuse me?” she managed.
“I asked… if you called for him,” he repeated.
She almost laughed sadistically at his words, and she shook her head, unable to even comprehend what he was accusing her of. “You men in power… you’re all the same. Always thinking someone is after your throne. Believe me when I say this, Venari, no one wants your crown nor do they want your realm. And if you still think I am the kind of person that would want your people harmed, then you have learned nothing about me this past week.”
“I don’t,” he said, pushing off the doorframe. “But I had to ask.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“You’re crying,” he noticed.
Her teeth clenched, and she stared past him at the trees. “I am fine.”
He didn’t push her. Instead, he simply went over to the dresser and pulled a couple of shirts from the top drawer. Aydra watched helplessly from the bed. Her thoughts kept flickering to the forest, to the brief moment of happiness she’d felt for the first time in years.
“I expect you’re leaving soon?” he asked.
“I have to send word to Lex to meet me at the edge of the Forest in the morning.”
“Your horse is not healed,” he told her. “You can take one of ours. I’ll bring yours to the next meeting.”
“Thank you,” she managed. “For everything.”
“It’s what any decent person would do,” he replied without looking at her.
“Somehow I doubt you would have been treated the same had we found you wounded,” she said.
“I said decent person,” he countered, now meeting her gaze.
She gave him a slow nod. “Right.”
He fumbled with the shirt in his hands. “Here,” he said, handing her the long tunic. “Your clothes are filthy. You can wear one of mine. Do you need help to the bath?”
She took it from his hands and shook her head. “I can manage,” she assured him.
He gave her a nod then and ran his hand through his hair, giving it a fluff. “I’ll escort you in the morning,” he told her. “To the Preymoor. It’s much too late for you to set off now, especially after our being gone most of the day.”
“You don’t have to do that. I know my way through. Your people need you here, not looking after me.” She swallowed hard and hugged her chest once more. “I think… I think I’m just going to bathe and get some rest.”
He nodded, and she watched as he ran a hand through his hair again, pushing it over to one side. “I’ll bring food up later in case you’re hungry.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
SHE DREAMED OF running. Of the fire licking at her heels. But halfway through her nap, the most soothing touch she’d ever felt came over her, and she found herself wrapped in the grass beneath the stars in her dreams.
There were arms wrapped around her, one over her waist that would occasionally squeeze her elbow or grip the long of the tunic she wore, the other entwined beneath the space between her neck and her pillow. Not arms of fire or territorial ones. Arms of comfort that made her breath even and her heart settle. Arms that her body fit into and not upon. Arms that she nuzzled and sank herself into without opening her eyes for fear of it just being a blanket around her.
