“Then we won’t cuddle, but I’m sleeping next to you, Claws. Get over it.”
I let loose a resigned sigh and lie down, pulling the blanket over me and settling in. Aeson follows suit and then he snakes an arm under my head and pulls my back to his chest, making himself comfortable all around me.
“I thought we addressed this and reached ano cuddlingsolution?” I complain as he relaxes around me.
“We’re not cuddling. I’m just holding you for a couple minutes.”
I huff out a laugh. “How many minutes are we talking here?”
“It’ll be over before you know it. Five minutes tops.”
I snicker, but I don’t push him away. As much as this changes nothing between us, I need the reprieve more than I can say. Later we can go back to the battling and omissions and wariness. But right now, we can just be Bonded Mates lying together with no complications, no mess, no distrust.
I relax against him and close my eyes.
I can do this. No biggie.
Five minutes won’t kill me.
Chapter 46
A RIPPLE OF AWARENESS MOVES through me. It draws my somnolent attention to a quiet but steady droning noise. My mind nudges me to do something about the grating sensation, but the rest of me is warm and content and not so eager to abandon sleep. I nuzzle into the sturdy warmth blanketing me and try to drift back to oblivion. Shockingly, my blankets start to move. A pair of arms tighten around me, and the comfy nest I’m lying on sleepily mumbles something.
I wake all the way up, confused and disoriented.
Floor pallets aren’t supposed to move.
My eyes adjust to the dark room. The slight change in the angle of the shadows tells me I’ve only been out for a couple of hours. I look down and see that the bedding I’m lying on isn’t a sheet or blanket at all, but a commander. I’m splayed half on top of him like he’s my own personal body pillow.
So much for not being a cuddler.
Embarrassment plumes through me, but I wave it away.
No one has to know.
I shift so I can roll over and put some distance between me and Aeson, but then I notice that strange hum again. I keep myself still, drowsily trying to figure out what it is or where it’s coming from. For a split second, I wonder if it’s the Fae Gate outside, but when I try to zero in on the sound, I realize that it’s coming from me.
Understanding pistons adrenaline through my system, and I sit up and immediately start scanning the shadows. There’s nothing there, and yet my blood continues to buzz in that unexplainable way that tells me there’s a Relacour nearby.
The first time it ever happened, I didn’t recognize the sensation for what it was. I thought it was the high of the hunt, the intoxication of finally getting answers that was buzzing through me. But after the third and then the fourth time, I began to recognize that something odd was happening. It wasn’t the euphoria of trying to reclaim my destiny that was singing in my bloodstream, it was Relacour magic.
I could feel the Relacour Blood Crafters, sense them.
All of the Syphons could.
It was proof that our hypothesis about the Relacours was right. Our blood recognized the Blood Crafters because it was their magic that was polluting our veins, it was their blood dripping down the bars of the cages trapping our dragons.
Carefully I untangle myself from Aeson and move to get up. He grunts his displeasure and reaches for me.
“Where you going?” he sleepily murmurs.
“Bathroom,” I whisper.
He mumbles something incoherent and wraps himself around my pillow, shoving his face into it and breathing deeply until he’s out again. Warmth settles in my chest as I watch him succumb to sleep.
I eye my weapons as I move, debating what to take. I don’t want to wake Aeson up by strapping everything on, and I don’t want to put the Matron on the defensive right away. Silently, I swipe four daggers. My frilled lizards and my bone blades. I press their lock sheaths to the skin of my back under my shirt, concealing them as best I can.
The polished wood floor is frosty against my bare feet, but it thankfully doesn’t creak or do anything else to give me away as I pad silently across it. I hold my breath, cracking open the door and only daring to exhale when I’m safely on the other side before I quietly close it. I take a second to scan the dark hallway. There’s probably a Wing member on patrol somewhere, but I don’t see or sense anyone.
