“Yeah.Let me help with that.”
He washed it out and then washed all my hair, changing the water three times in the process, which seemed excessive.Like the amount of care he was giving me, peeling off soaked bandages and examining every wound and contusion, not that there were many.And that was wrong, wasn’t it?
There should have been more, many more.Just the ones from last night… Only they were mostly gone, and the ones from today…
Had there been any from today?But there must have been, right?I couldn’t have gotten through all that unscathed.
No, I hadn’t.When I’d caught up with the dark mage leader, he had peppered me with spells, next-level ones.So what…
I couldn’t think straight, and my head hurt.Maybe something of his had connected, after all.Maybe a lot of somethings.
That would explain a few things.
The fourth bath full of soapy water was apparently the last, because Cyrus, who had been bathing me from outside the tub, like a mom taking care of a filthy toddler, finally stripped off and climbed in.He pulled me back against him, and it felt good.Smelled good, too, like the hotel’s toiletries, which were scented like fresh citrus and herbs, and like him.
“Better?”he asked, resting his head on top of mine.
“Better.”And I slowly realized that it was the truth.His touch helped to ground me, to bring me back to Lia instead of the wolf, to the point that holding my own shape no longer felt like a burden.It felt like it always had, normal, peaceful, good.“Better,”I repeated, and felt his arms tighten.
“I’ve been spending too much time with Sebastian,” he whispered.“I told myself he needed me, but—”
“He does.We’re at war.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have responsibilities here.I didn’t even know Jace was gone until the clan returned from Tartarus, and only then after I heard them yelling.They weren’t allowed in to see me—my own clan!”
“I should have told you, but I thought I knew where he was.That it was just going to be a case of going and picking him up, maybe feeding him some pizza…”
“It’s not your fault.The problem was on this end, and it will be dealt with.”His voice was grim.
“That may be harder than you think,” I said.“The guards only seevargulfs.We can call ourselves a clan, but nobody believes it.And now there are three hundred more!Cyrus, what are we going todo?”
“Same thing we’ve been doing.Get them fed, get them a safe place to sleep, and wait.”
“For what?”
“For them to trust us, to open up, to let us in.That’s how I dealt with our first bunch of traumatized boys, and that’s all we can do here.”
“But…” I turned to face him because I needed to see him.He sounded so confident, so sure.How the hell could he be so sure?“There arethree hundred—”
“You keep saying that,” he said, the dark eyes warm under their fringe of black lashes.Which were wet, glistening with droplets like he’d been under a shower, because he’d had to turn it on several times to get me clean.His hair was wet, too, and was curling around his neck.Just looking at him made me feel better.
“It’s relevant—”
“It’s not, though.Three or three hundred, it’s all the same—”
“Is it?When there are only two of us?And when your brother wants to imitate the Black Circle and use his ‘new army’ as cannon fodder!”
I needed Cyrus’s calm because just the thought made me furious all over again, to the point that I started trembling.Until he caught my hands in his big, warm ones and smoothed up and down my arms.Up and down, up and down, and I felt my blood pressure go back to something like normal.
“That isn’t going to happen,” he assured me.
“Isn’t it?Cyrus, it was the first thing he thought of!”
“Yes, because he’s desperate.Vargulfswould have always been a contentious issue whenever they were raised.But right now, they’ve become a symbol for everything the clans see as a threat—”
“Which is basically anything different!”
“You said it yourself: it’s war.”The dark eyes were somber.“People get antsy in war; they cling to the old tried-and-true ways, even if those don’t work anymore.But they revert to them anyway because they want stability, reassurance, bedrock under their feet instead of quicksand.And they want a scapegoat.”
