“Your first wish won’t cover it. I can help you, but you’re running short of time. You must command me.”
My stomach flips in a way that has nothing to do with the speed with which he’s taking the stairs. “But I promised—”
“It doesn’t matter what you promised if you die before you can grant my freedom,” he snaps.
He’s right of course.
The palace walls spin and seem to join with the ceiling, and then, all of a sudden, I’m in my bed with him leaning over me. “Make the wish.”
I frown. What am I wishing for again?
“Damn it, make the wish!”
“OK, OK. I wish.” I blink. Then I remember. “I wish for you to save me.”
Jah’ruud lets out a long sigh. Immediately he places cool hands over the burning, stinging place on my arm where Aurelion bit me. He whispers words I cannot understand, and the room is filled with a rushing, whooshing pressure. My ears pop and my head throbs. My throat goes dry, and I try to cry out, but it’s lost in the roar of the wind.
Then, suddenly, it all dies and the room is silent once more. Jah’ruud’s head is bowed over me. There’s a long pause. Then heopens his eyes and looks up and straight into mine. “It is done. Not a moment too soon.”
Tentatively, I run my fingertips over the wound on my arm—or try to. The place where the flesh was raised from Aurelion’s sharp teeth is smooth and unmarred. I whistle. “A close call, then?”
Jah’ruud stands. He looks shaken.
“Were you actually worried about me?” I laugh.
He turns and his expression is murderous. “You may laugh it off, but I was worried. You are the first hope I have had in long centuries of slavery. And… more than that, you are… special to me.” This fact seems to make him even grouchier than his worry, but I have to smile.
“Oh, so last night did mean something to you after all, huh?”
With a growl, he stalks back to my bedside. “Are you always so callous? Of course it meant something to me. Do you think I give myself to just anyone?”
I shrug. “Sometimes you have to.”
He hesitates, and something softens in his face. “You also bear this shame?”
“Don’t think of it as shame. Think of it as survival.”
There’s another moment of silence where we share a look—an understanding.
“You did what you had to,” I say.
He sighs. “Last night you made sure I didn’t have to, and that means everything to me.”
I’m unexpectedly touched by the new softness in him. Reaching out, I place my hand over his, and he looks up at me in surprise. “You never have to. Not anymore.”
He looks down at where our hands are joined then back up at me again. “And for you? Did last night mean something to you as well?”
I smile. “Yeah, it means we’re friends now. We don’t have to fight each other anymore.”
He sneers. “Do you do such things with all your friends, then?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never had one before. Let’s say friends with… benefits, then. You’ve got my back, and I’ve got yours.”
“Friends with benefits?” He says it like it leaves a foul taste in his mouth. “I do not take intimacies so lightly as you do.”
“Hey, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. This is a big deal for me. Like I said, I’ve never had a friend before.”
He grumbles, but the frown eases from his face.
