Heat spread through him at the thought. That she’d turned to him at some point in the night, seeking him out in the darkness . . . it meant something.
It meant everything.
Her soft exhales ghosted over his skin, their chests rising and falling together. Her heart-shaped face was partially hidden by her hair, but he could see some of the light freckles that dusted her porcelain skin. Her long lashes—which normally framed her ethereal green eyes—were drawn down in slumber. She looked so beautiful in the hazy pre-dawn light.
His breath caught, wonder filling him as he realized he’d slept the entire night. No insomnia or restlessness. No nightmares. It was a bloody miracle.
Amrynwas a miracle.
Tucked against him, her fingertips rested on one of his more gnarled scars. A place he’d been cut and burned repeatedly. He watched as her fingers moved, just a fraction, whispering over the rough edge of the raised scar.
He wasn’t exactly self-conscious about his scars, but he didn’t like what they represented. He was a little surprised Amryn had never asked about them. But then, she knew he’d been in Harvari. She probably knew more than he wanted to acknowledge, since his capture hadn’t been a secret. His gut tightened.
A furrow grew between her brows.
Carver held perfectly still, not wanting to wake her. But she wasn’t actually stirring, even though a slight frown now marred her expression. His own brow furrowed. Was she aware of his emotions, even in sleep?
The answer seemed fairly obvious when he remembered how she’d often sought him out in Esperance when restlessness and dark memories had gripped him. Or the nightmare she’d woken him from on Zawri.
She could feel what he was feeling, even when she wasn’t fully conscious. That meant she was aware of everything he felt. Always.
The thought wasn’t entirely new, but for the first time, he really processed what it meant. Amryn would always know what he was feeling. When he was angry, frustrated, or irritated—she would know. He would never be able to lie to her. Not that he intended to do so, but . . . He couldn’t minimize his worries. She would always know if he was stressed or nervous. His doubts, his fears—they would always be laid bare to her. And any pain he experienced would become hers. He wouldn’t be able to shield her.
Or himself.
Whenever he struggled with his inner demons, she would know. Whenever he was scared, she’d know. Whenever he looked at her, kissed her, or touched her . . . she would know exactly how he felt about her. He would never be able to protect hisheart from her. Any intimacy they shared would be all the more intimate for him. Because he’d be exposingeverythingto her. Not just his body, but his anxieties, his insecurities, his every emotion.
The vulnerability of that terrified him.
A bridge. You’re standing on a bridge.
The familiar words of his grandfather floated through his mind, a lifeline in the midst of his spiraling thoughts. The mental bridge was a visualization technique that helped to separate himself from overwhelming emotions. To imagine that he was standing on a bridge, untouched by the water that rushed and raged beneath him.
Closing his eyes, he forced himself to take measured breaths. To let the anxiety rush below him while he stood firmly grounded on the bridge he’d relied on so many times before.
As calm gradually filtered in, he felt Amryn relax against him.
Saints.He needed to gain better control over his emotions—for both their sakes.
Gently, he eased out of Amryn’s hold. She made a little sound of loss in her throat, and it tugged at his heart. The absence of her touch left his skin feeling too cold, but still he forced himself to move. To leave the bed. He needed space. Needed to breathe. Needed to sort out his thoughts and feelings in the best way he knew how.
He padded on bare feet to the balcony and silently opened the doors. Once outside, he closed them just as soundlessly. Then he turned, taking in the sight of the city below. Even without the aid of the sun, which still needed to rise above the distant horizon, Zagrev was impressive. The capital of the Craethen Empire was vast. A sea of red-tiled roofs, with the occasional rooftop garden, spread out before him. Different districts in the city held taverns, shops, homes, and even the mansions of the elite nobles who called Zagrev home. The city was always teeming with life. Even at this early hour, the streets were filled with small, dark specks he knew were people. Men and women already beginning their days—or just concluding their nights. Seeing those signs of life, even though the world around him remained still, brought a strange but undeniable comfort.
He filled his lungs with the fresh morning air, then began the meditative exercises his grandfather had ingrained in him.
He slid through the practiced motions with ease. The stretches had always been good for him; they loosened his muscles and strengthened his balance, a perfect warm-up before a vigorous workout. But after Harvari, they had become evenmore vital. The stretches helped maintain his range of motion. They kept his scar tissue pliable. Worked the soreness out of his joints and bones where they’d been systematically broken. And those were just the physical benefits. The exercises also allowed him to clear his mind, become grounded in his own body, and find peace for his soul.
His eyes fell closed as he lost himself in the familiar poses. His grandfather’s voice filled his mind, instructing his movements and breathing.
He was so deeply in his thoughts, he nearly missed the soft sound of the door opening behind him.
His eyes flashed open as he turned.
Amryn stood in the doorway to the balcony, looking a little disheveled with her hair in disarray and color high on her cheeks, but she’d slipped on a robe over her white nightgown. Her sea-green eyes were caught on him, and he didn’t miss them flick down as she took in his chest.
His skin was slick with a layer of sweat. The exercise was not overly intense, but it required muscle control and concentration. And it was always a bit too warm in Zagrev.
Hesitancy hung in her eyes as she said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
