He took the key. “I’ll stay with her tonight.”
“What?” Cassiel frowned at the announcement. It was inappropriate, no matter that they were blood-related.
Zev shrugged. “She’s afraid to be alone at night.”
He glanced at Dyna and her cheeks bloomed pink. Afraid to be alone? No, it was more than that. Whenever night fell, she grew more skittish, always watching their surroundings as if she expected something to jump out.
She squirmed in her seat, fidgeting with her sleeve. “Perhaps we can all share the room? We have already slept together outside under the stars. This would be the same.”
Cassiel rubbed his neck. “That is not the same at all.”
“Is it better than the alternative?” Zev asked. “Dyna will not be sleeping alone. She can’t.”
“I’m sorry, Zev,” she muttered. “I should have grown out of it by now,”
He patted her back. “It’s not your fault.”
Dyna closed her eyes, and her brow tightened. A distant fear trickled through the bond, settling over Cassiel. Cold, sharp claws grasped him, filling him with deep-set desperation and terror.
They both flinched at the sound of a heavy thud on the table. A passing barmaid had set down a flagon and mugs. Another placed three steaming bowls down next with a basket of black bread before running off to serve more patrons. At the smell of the food, Cassiel forgot their conversation. He inhaled the scent of his meal. They had served him wild rice topped with buttered mushrooms and herbs.
“It smells delicious!” Dyna said.
“It does.” Zev grinned at his plate.
Steam swirled above the sizzling lamb’s leg nestled in potatoes and carrots. The brown skin was crisp and glistened with oil and rosemary. She laughed as he ate it with relish.
Cassiel was halfway through his meal by the time Zev had devoured his. Nothing was left but the bones sucked dry. “Are you satiated?”
Zev pouted at his plate. “Not at all.”
“Then, by all means, order another meal. I paid the innkeeper far more than our stay here is worth.”
Rubbing his hands together, Zev left to do that. Cassiel took the flagon and poured himself a drink as he glanced at Dyna. She nibbled on a roll of bread, lost in thought. Sensing his stare, she looked up.
“All right?” he asked.
“Yes, and you?”
“Me?”
“Why did you fight that man?”
He frowned. Did she not know why?
Dyna tilted her head, her knowing green eyes searching his. Oh. She had understood what Garik said, but she didn’t understand why he fought him. Cassiel didn’t either. He had been so angry that he wanted to hit him and keep hitting him until he couldn’t lift his arms.
“It’s of no concern,” He took a sip from his mug and nearly spat it out at the sweet fermented taste. “Excuse me, what isthis?” he asked a barmaid passing by, lifting the flagon.
Her brow creased as though she was not sure what he was asking. “That is mead, milord. Our finest.”
“I requested water.”
“Oh … Father thought it a jest.”
“It was not.”
“Sorry, sir. I’ll see to it.” She curtsied and hurried off.
