She didn’t remember much after that; just the impression of movement and the resonant hum of Taevas’s voice. Time became malleable. It felt like she’d only just closed her eyes when her body sank into a cloud. Someone lightly jostled her legs as they removed her boots and socks before a thick duvet was pulled over her.
Taevas’s scent was rich and soothing andeverywhere.
She sighed and tugged the duvet up to her nose. Her eyelids were too heavy to lift, but a faint glow passed through them, allowing her to get the impression of movement as Taevas slowly bent to give her a kiss.
“Rest now, my Shiya. I’ll join you in a little while,” he whispered.
Words were slow and heavy in her mouth. “Don’t go.”
He made a soft, pained sound and brushed a curl behind her ear. “I have to speak to my uncle and my Wing, but I’ll be close by. I won’t be long. When you wake up, I’ll be here with you.”
Her eyes burned beneath her closed lids, and a watery sniffle betrayed the sudden wave of feeling that overwhelmed her. “D’you promise?”
“Oh, my Shiya.” Taevas pressed several fierce kisses to the side of her head and cheek. Bringing one of her hands up to his heart, he said, “I’m so sorry that all of this happened to you. I’m sorry you were afraid.”
“I don’t care about that,” she whispered. “I only care that you’re okay. That you’re not gonna just— justdisappearagain. You can’t leave me. You promised.”
“I willneverwillingly leave you.” He kissed her palm before settling her hand back on the bed. In a softer voice, he commanded her, “Now sleep. The sooner you rest, the sooner tomorrow will come. And tomorrow everything will be better. I promise, my queen.”
Tomorrow will come.
A stone lodged itself in her throat, making it impossible to respond. Alashiya could only nod and draw the duvet closer to her eyes, hoping it’d hide whatever telling expression she made.
Leaving his Chosen alone in their nest when she was so clearly in need of care was agony, but Taevas had no other option.
He limped down the long hallway that connected his sprawling living quarters with the rest of the tower. All of the floors were accessible via elevators and hidden staircases, but almost no one had permission to enter his private areas. He’d deliberately sectioned off a portion of the top floor for guests and entertainment, putting the atrium in the center as a barrier between the public and private spaces.
Even if a guest wandered into the atrium from the entertainment suite, they wouldn’t have been able to open the doors to the private quarters. They were biometrically locked and warded. Dragons were intensely protective of their spaces on the best of days, but now that he had his mate in his nest…
Taevas padded across the shining marble floors of the atrium slowly, his body beginning to ache as the pain medication gradually began to lose its effectiveness. The sunset threw stunning reds and oranges and lavenders through the clear glass roof. The light drenched the carefully curated plastic plants and furniture that dotted the space.
He paused at the door to the entertainment suite, both to catch his breath and to look at the fronds of a large, fake tropical plant he’d never bothered to really look at before.
His lips pursed. Turning his head, he took a quick look around at the atrium, which he’d never spared more than a passing thought for. He’d had the tower built in the 1950s, and though it had been updated roughly every ten years, he’d largely kept the aesthetic. The simplicity of clean lines, bare walls, and natural light had always appealed to him.
When everything else in his life was a mess, he knew that his roost would be a place of calm. There was no clutter or visual noise. Just straight lines, polished floors, and quiet.
But now, observing the atrium that had always been something of a meditative space for him, he was unsettled. It felt… empty.
The potted plants looked oddly lonely in their clusters. The small table and chairs in the corner looked even more adrift. All the empty space that he’d once found so peaceful now felt… well,empty.
Taevas couldn’t honestly say he missed much about Alashiya’s home, but he now realized that it had an abundance of something his own lacked:life.
Every inch of it was marked by the people who’d lived there. The walls didn’t just hum with magic but with the memories of Alashiya’s grove. Everywhere he looked, there’d been a story, the smudged fingerprints of love and life.
What story didhisroost tell? Taevas stared at the lone small table in the far corner, with its two seats — only one of which he’d ever used, because he never brought guests this far into his roost.
The urge to throw the table and chairs and lonely potted plants out burned under his skin.This isn’t right,his instincts told him.You can’t have your Chosen here. She should have something better. I have to fix this.
Taevas rubbed his temples. He’d heard people talk about the nesting urge, but he’d never thought he’d experience it. Dragons spent most of their adult lives padding their roosts, making everythingjust right,whether they wanted a mate or not.
But sometimes it happened that after a dragon found a mate,they developed a marked distaste for all the work they’d done before. Everything they liked, everything they’d spent years collecting and carefully styling, might suddenly become completely intolerable.
“I don’t have time for that right now,” he muttered, forcing himself to turn away from the sad little table and chairs.
Redecorating would have to wait until after he’d stabilized his territory and gotten Sergei where he belonged — firmly behind bars.
Knowing that he was rapidly running out of energy, Taevas forced himself through the door and down the hall toward the main sitting area of the entertainment suite. The suite was huge. It had just about everything he could ever need for hosting not only his clan, but dignitaries and other territory leaders, should the need arise.
