I curled my knees to my chest and did my best to forget how his mouth had felt against mine.
How I’d melted into his arms like I belonged there.
27
ISI
Dawn’s sunlight poked through the shades, stabbing me in the eyes. I nudged back the covers, swung my legs over the mattress’s edge, and sat for a moment, elbows on my knees, pressing my palms against my eyes until stars bloomed behind them. With a sigh, I shoved my hair off my face and stared around the room. It shouldn’t feel special. It wasn’t anywhere near as nice as my suite back home.
But this room was always assigned to a bonded recruit. Awarrior. This room felt earned.
Even if my companion had flown away from me.
As expected, I’d slept horribly, though I could barely remember falling asleep. My dreams had been warped echoes of the Rite. Blood on my palms, roots coiling around ankles, Jaxon’s final breath as he lay on the ground coated in honey. No matter how tightly I curled, no matter how deep I pressed my arms into my chest, I couldn’t shut the memories out.
And when I wasn’t dreaming of the danger, I kept picturing myself beneath Trew. On top of Trew. Splayed out on a desk while he…
My growl ripped through the room.
My body ached in strange places, my muscles tight from too little rest and too much adrenaline. The Rite hadn’t just tested our strength, it had stripped us to the bone.
This chamber sat high in the castle’s upper floors, a rectangular room of cool white stone. Rich tapestries softened the walls, depicting scenes of beasts in meadows, wings half-spread, horns glinting in sunlight, their eyes full of intelligence. The floor beneath my feet had been constructed of smooth stone.
The torches on the walls lit while I watched, burning with a steady, golden glow.
Slipping off the bed, I padded into the bathing room. The water that magically chugged from the sink faucet felt cold enough to bite. I didn’t hesitate before dousing my face, letting it shock my skin and drip down my neck in rivulets. It cleared nothing. The gaping holebehind my sternum yawned wider. My teeth clacked together, my skin quivering along with them.
I didn’t retreat. Let it freeze out my grief. Let it numb my guilt. Let it make me forget all about how wonderful Trew had tasted. I’d made it through the trials. I was now part of the rebels. They couldn’t toss me out of their court.
Unless bonded warriors needed their companions.
It didn’t matter. I wasn’t only grieving my sister’s murder, I was surviving. I had a purpose that did not require a companion.
I pulled my nightshirt over my head and tossed it into the woven basket along one wall. After grabbing a small cloth and wetting it beneath the water, I started washing.
It didn’t take long to give myself a quick bath, and after blotting myself dry with the towel, I returned to the room, striding over to open the wardrobe, though I only possessed the few outfits I’d brought with me. Simple tunics and pants, all too big for me since they’d belonged to the guard. Not even a dress or pretty shoes. I hadn’t wanted anything about me to shout princess, and who would wear a dress to take down a murderer?
I’d dropped my bag by the door when I arrived, but someone must’ve put my things away.
I opened the wardrobe and gaped at the rows of finely tailored garments. Training leathers, form-fitting pants, and rich tunics in all sorts of colors and all in my size.
Someonehad left these here for me.
I ran my fingers down a set of training gear made in midnight black, reinforced at the joints, and oiled until the leather gleamed like the richest of stones. The tunic was light but sturdy, and when I lifted it, the scent of leather filled my lungs.
It reminded me so much of home and my training with Commander Thorne that tears stung the backs of my eyes.
I tossed the tunic onto the bed but paused with my fingers on the pants, my heart leaping as my gaze dropped to the floor of the wardrobe.
Boots and shoes. A row of them in a variety of colors, dyed to match the outfits above. Even black boots that were a perfect match for the leather outfit I’d selected.
The hairs on my arms lifted.
Silence pressed in around me, and I slanted my eyes to the chamber door. Closed. Still latched. A simple iron bolt blocking entry.
My pulse kicked against my ribs.
“Trew didn’t creep into your room like a winged fairy delivering pretty clothing,” I told myself.
