It was no longer her responsibility. If they wanted to tear each other apart, so be it. There was nothing she could do about that.
Areana had realized over the thousands of years she spent with Navuh that her ability to make a difference was very limited. She should focus on her mate and their future in this new reality they had found themselves in. Her old default of leaving all the major decisions to him was no longer an option.
Here, she wielded much greater power than he did, so she shouldn't sit back while he negotiated the terms of his imprisonment on his own.
So far, he'd managed to antagonize both Kian and Annani, although her sister was better at hiding her aggravation than her son was.
Areana sat back down on her chair and glanced at Navuh, who appeared to be sleeping, but he wasn't. She knew what he sounded like when he was really sleeping. He was just resting, or plotting, or whatever he did when he retreated into his own head.
Perhaps he was concentrating on healing.
She had grown accustomed to this routine over the past two weeks—the quiet hours spent at his side, the conversations that ranged from the mundane to the profound, the careful attention to every small sign of improvement in his condition. It was a strange kind of intimacy, this vigil. Different from anything they'd shared before, yet somehow deeper.
They were spending more time together now than they ever had, and it was nice despite the unfortunate circumstances.
She liked having him all to herself.
Without windows, time was abstract down here in the same way it had been in the harem, but at least over there, they'd had the artificial lighting that tried to mimic conditions outside. Here, mornings and evenings were distinguished only by the shift changes of the medical staff. Areana had learned to mark time by the rhythm of Navuh's breathing, the soft beeping of the monitors, and the moments when Bridget came to check his vitals.
"Watch," Navuh said suddenly. "Look at my left hand."
Areana shifted her gaze to where his hand lay on the white sheet. For days, it had been motionless, with only the occasional involuntary twitch providing hope and excitement.
But now, as she watched, his fingers moved. It was a deliberate movement. First his index finger, then the middle one, the ring finger, the pinky. A slow, laborious curl and release, like a flower blooming in slow motion.
"Navuh." Her voice came out in a whisper. "You can move them."
"I can feel them too." His dark eyes found hers, and there was pure satisfaction in them.
Tears prickled Areana's eyes. She reached for his hand, cradling it gently between both of hers, and lifted it to her lips. She kissed each finger in turn.
He could feel it. She knew he could feel it because his breath became more shallow with each press of her lips, his eyes softening in a way that only she ever witnessed.
"I love you," she said against his knuckles.
"I know." His fingers curled weakly against her cheek, the movement clearly costing him effort but worth it for the contact. "I love you too, my Areana. My beautiful, perfect goddess."
She held his hand against her face for a long moment, savoring the warmth of his skin, the miracle of his touch after so many days of nothing. This was progress. This was hope. Every small movement was a step toward recovery.
When she looked up, she found that his expression had changed. The softness was fading, replaced by something harder, more focused. He was staring at the ceiling again, his jaw set in that particular way that meant his mind was working furiously.
She knew that look. She'd seen it countless times over the millennia—before battles, before negotiations, before the execution of plans that would reshape the political landscape of nations. It was the look of a strategist contemplating his next move.
"What are you scheming?" she asked.
Navuh's gaze didn't waver from the ceiling. "Scheming is such a harsh word."
"But accurate." Areana set his hand down on the bed but didn't release it, her fingers still intertwined with his. "You've been wearing that expression on and off for days. Something is brewing in that magnificent, terrible mind of yours."
A smile flickered across his lips at the description, there and gone. "I have information that the clan wants. Information that could change everything."
"You've been saying that for days." Frustration crept into her voice despite her efforts to keep it at bay. "You said it to Kian.You said it to Annani. You keep dangling this mysterious bait in front of them, but you won't tell anyone what it actually is."
"Patience, my love. Timing is everything in negotiations."
"I'm not talking about negotiations. I'm talking about us." She squeezed his fingers, perhaps harder than she intended. "Why won't you tell me? Don't you trust me?"
The look he gave her made her gut twist.
