CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
DORIAN WOKE TO Corbin poking him with the end of his scythe as he'd done in the days before. But when he rose and pushed his hands over his eyes, he noted the confusing look on his Second's face.
"What's wrong?"
Corbin was squinting at his stomach. "Why are those still there?"
Dorian looked down, and he realized he still had black streaks stretched over his ribs, reminding him of tree roots or lightning as they stilled on his skin. "Core deciding I need protecting without the full form?" Dorian suggested, even though he had no idea.
Corbin seemed to consider it as Dorian rose to his feet.
"At least it isn't my eyes," Dorian said, grabbing pants from his bag.
"That is terrifying enough just when you're in your form," Corbin muttered.
"Taking that as a compliment," Dorian said upon pulling his shirt over his head.
Corbin was holding out the full flask when Dorian came back up, and Dorian eyed it a moment, pausing mid-movement. He swallowed at the temptation of numbing his insides and pushing away all his confusion.
But Reverie's words from the night before rang in his mind, and he turned his back.
"Not today, Bin," he said softly.
He sat back on the bed and began to pull his boots on. Corbin sat the flask on the table by the door. Dorian noted the shift in Corbin's weight, his scratching the back of his head.
"Spit it out, Second," Dorian said.
"Someone is waiting for you," Corbin replied.
Dorian stilled a moment from tying his boot. "Is it her?"
Corbin nodded.
A low grunt emitted from him. "I don't want to see her."
"She's pretty insistent."
"And I really don't give a fuck."
"Prince, let me in," came Reverie's voice from the other side of the door.
An expectant brow lifted on Corbin's face, and Dorian finally surrendered. "Fine."
The door opened, and Reverie pushed her way inside. Dorian had to pause upon seeing her that morning, in her usual leathers, but black today instead of brown. He wondered if these were what she'd spent her gold on after his last match.
"I'll be outside," Corbin said once Dorian had given him an approving nod.
The door closed, and Dorian allowed his gaze to wash over her again.
"I see you bought yourself new leathers with my winnings," Dorian accosted.
Reverie's arms crossed over her chest. "I did," she said simply. "Blackhand leathers are a lot more formidable than Dreamer—“
"What do you want?" he cut in. "Shouldn't you be halfway through the valleys back to your comfortable home by now?"
"I came to apologize," she said.
"Why? Did you come to apologize because you are truly sorry or because you just want your ranking?"
