"Your Majesty," she slurs, reaching out to caress his mask. "You have a throne now. Very fitting."
Knight growls in confusion, reaching out with his human hand to brush her silver strands away from her face with a gentleness that comes only from worship. He tucks them behind her ear, then tilts her chin up to him as if he's making sure she's okay.
"I promise, she's okay," I assure him again, holding up my arms to Geo. Geo shifts the half-conscious omega into them, still uncharacteristically somber.
Sullenis typical, but this is new.
I can't help but wonder if it has something to do with what I told him in the tunnels, but I can't focus on that right now.
I carry Cosima past Knight to the bedroom, letting out a wary sigh of relief when he allows me to pass. The tension between us seems to have eased slightly, but I'm under no illusions. He's still watching me, like he's calculating how quickly he could tear my head from my shoulders if I make one wrong move.
My guess is point-three seconds.
The bedroom is exactly as we left it, the sheets still rumpled from her earlier rest. I lay her gently on the bed, not letting my hands linger. She gazes up at me through heavy-lidded eyes, a soft smile playing on her lips.
"Stay," she murmurs, reaching for my hand.
My heart constricts. I've heard that word so many times, from so many different lips. It was my job to stay, once. To be whatever they wanted, men and women both, for as long as they were willing to pay.
But Cosima isn't asking for the performer, the charmer, the beautiful toy to be played with and discarded.
She's asking forme.
The real me, whoever that is.
And that's precisely why I can't. Because she makes me want to be someone else. Someone better. Someone worthy of her. And I know the real Cosima wouldn't be asking me to stay.
Not yet.
"You need to rest," I tell her, gently extracting my hand from hers. "We can talk in the morning."
She makes a small, disappointed sound that nearly breaks my resolve. But then her eyes start to close, the alcohol finally winning out over her stubborn will.
"Azarel," she mumbles, her voice thick with sleep. "Why?"
The name is like a bucket of ice water down my spine. A painful reminder that no matter what I might wish, no matter what I might feel, her heart belongs to someone else. Even now, drunk and hurt and confused, it's him she thinks of.
He may even bewhyshe's drunk.
I back away from the bed, watching as she curls onto her side, her silver hair spilling across the pillow like the moonlight that sweetens her scent. I sink into the chair on the other side of the bed before remembering Knight is watching from across theroom. He sinks against the wall, staring at her sleeping form like a silent sentinel. Those blue eyes flicker to mine for a moment, and an understanding passes between us.
We're alike now, in one regard.
We exist for her.
To protect her.
And right now, neither of us has a damn clue how to do that.
Chapter 6
COSIMA
Something is pounding.
Not outside my body, but inside my skull, as if a team of industrious workers has set up a demolition site between my ears. The rhythmicthump-thump-thumppulses behind my closed eyelids, and I'm suddenly aware of every heartbeat, each one sending fresh waves of agony through my temples.
I don't want to open my eyes. The sliver of light peeking through my eyelids already feels like it's stabbing directly into my brain. But there's something else—a sound that isn't part of the construction crew in my head. A rumbling, sawing noise that rises and falls with steady regularity.
