Three things slammed into me at this admission.
The first was that the Shadow Bringer could, perhaps, feel emotions other than anger and misery. The second was that he watched me sleep and it quite possiblyvexedhim to do so. The third was that I was physically affected by him, more and more, in ways I wasn’t willing to admit.
My days spent in the Dream Realm must have indeed warped my mind.
“Fine.” I climbed into his canopied bed, trying not to think about how much I wanted to bury my nose in his pillows and breathe in his scent. Instead, I lay atop his blankets and faced away from him. “So, I just need to relax, then? You’ll do the rest?”
“I must,” he murmured.
He shifted so that he faced away from me, but the movement was barely perceptible. His bed was simply too massive; I could have very well been alone and not noticed a difference. Shutting my eyes, I tried to focus on my breathing and not the panic rising in my chest.
“Are you cold?” he asked. “We need to reach a deep state of rest within our subconscious minds. That won’t be possible if you’re shivering.”
He drew a blanket over me—one he likely conjured out of thin air—and promptly removed his arm. But it was no use. Everycrashsounded like a demon breaking through the door. I hadn’t been shivering; I had beenflinching.
I hated myself for what I was about to ask. “Can you… um.”
“What is it?”
“I used to share a room with my sister,” I murmured. “After she died, it was my brother. Whenever one of us was anxious or fearful, we’d sometimes sleep with our backs to each other. To feel like we were less alone.”
The Shadow Bringer went unnaturally silent; I thought he didn’t hear me.
“The sounds of your castle breaking apart are too similar to…”
“The demons?” he supplied.
“Yes,” I admitted, my voice a low whisper.
The bed shifted as he drew near me, gingerly placing his back against mine.
I hated craving this shred of simple comfort after everything I’d been through. Hated that it had to behim. But if escaping this castle required me to successfully dream walk, I’d do whatever it took. Even if that meant pretending this monster’s back was Elliot’s or Eden’s. But the more I tried to get used to the feel of him, the more uncomfortable I became. He was too cold, and his armor was far too sharp and rigid. One of his overlapping metal feathers bit into my shoulder blade, making me readjust to accommodate it.
“Why are you always in armor?”
He laughed dryly. “I’ve slept in my armor for as long as I can remember. There’s no use for comfortable things in a pit of darkness.”
No use for comfort?His bedroom was filled with hundreds of books, elaborate paintings, and plush armchairs. He had a balcony that overlooked a sea of stars. A canopied bed with luxurious pillows, heavy blankets, and silk sheets.
“Your bedchamber is filled with comfortable things. All this velvet and silk.”
“Then I suppose over time the armor has become a part of me.” He shifted again, and I could feel the metal feathers sink until they were smooth against his back. He fit more easily against me now, his shoulders cold but no longer sharp. “I have no reason to wear anything else.”
“Well, now you do. You’re not very comfortable to lie against.”
He sighed through his nose and went silent again. For a moment, I thought he had fallen asleep.
“You’re still shivering.”
“I’m not shivering,” I insisted, flinching as another part of his castle dropped away with acrack.
A curtain of shadow suddenly rose from the floor, cocooning the bed in a sphere of darkness. It made a lowwhooshing sound as it swirled around us, perfectly replacing the erraticcracksandbangsfrom the rest of the castle. The comfort it brought was immense; my breathing evened out almost immediately.
“Thank you,” I said, burying my nose into his pillows and hoping he didn’t notice.
His breathing hitched. Perhaps I’d struck a nerve.
But then I felt him relaxing, too, stretching his long, armored legs so that they brushed against mine.
