A new kind of panic raced through me. Were we under attack? Looters? Koerlyn’s men? “What’s wrong?” I whispered, scanning his face for signs of urgency. I only found pinched concern.
“I believe I’m supposed to ask you that question,” he responded, warm breath puffing across my cheeks. Heat emanated from him in waves, keeping away the chill of the night.
“I…I don’t understand.”
“You were having a nightmare. One that clearly required waking,” he said, releasing my wrists to place his hands on the ground. He didn’t move away, staying braced above me like a shield.
As shameful as it was to admit, I was grateful for it. The dream had rattled me far more than I wanted to acknowledge. I couldn’t even count the amount of times I’d dreamt of the night my parents were killed, but never once had it strayed from the familiar storyline, until tonight. Harthon was a comforting presence, easing the terror that’d choked me as Koerlyn dragged me along in that chest. Even now, tendrils of fear remained, and Harthon…he chased them away, just by being there. There was no fighting that fact.
Still, I didn’t understandwhyhe was here. It wasn’t as cold as our last night outdoors, so I’d fallen asleep on my own at the edges of the camp. “How did you know?”
“You were making noises. The kinds that come from bad dreams. When I tried to wake you the first time, you nearly took me to the ground, so I had to take some measures to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself,” he explained gently.
As if I could ever take Harthon to the ground.
I turned my head to the side, noting the sleeping bodies around us. “It didn’t wake anyone else up,” I argued.
The skin around his eyes crinkled. “I’m a light sleeper.”
And I’d woken him with the sounds I’d made in my nightmare, and thanked his efforts to wake me with a struggle. Could I have done anythingmoreembarrassing?
I slapped my palms over my face. “Sorry.”
He grasped my hands and pulled them away, dipping his chin. “You have nothing to be sorry for. We all have bad dreams.”
Sure, everyone had bad dreams, but they usually handled them like adults, not whimpering children.“You’re telling me that you also make noises and fight imaginary foes in your dreams?”
He shifted onto his haunches, and I became all too aware of how his muscled thighs still pressed into mine. “I know a thing or two about nightmares that reach deeper than they should.”
I studied the man who sat above me, the one who was such a force that it’d never occurred to me that simple things like dreams could hurt him too. “I’m sorry for that,” I whispered.
He stilled for a moment, lips parting as he visually traced my features. He lingered on my lips for a breath, and I became as still as him. My skin buzzed with…with…what, exactly? Anticipation? Want? Attraction? Maybe all three, together.
The nightmare had done more than reach deeper than it should. It had scrambled my mind and made me lose my sanity, because for the first time in my life, I thought about what it might feel like to be…to be kissed—
“I’m sorry for you, too,” Harthon said quietly, shattering the moment. “Did the dream have to do with our visit to Josenne?”
My limbs immediately locked up. After I’d told Harthon that Josenne couldn’t help him, he hadn’t pressed the issue, and I hadn’t revealed a word of what she’d told me. While I was surprised he didn’t hammer me for information, I knew it was only a matter of time. Harthon was too determined and shrewd to assume Josenne had nothing to offer. For him, the stakes were far too high to acceptmy cryptic response.
After hours of deliberation, I still didn’t know what I would tell him when the conversation arose. There was always the truth: that I couldn’t unlock the path because I simply didn’t want it enough. But that truth felt incredibly lacking and carried with it the heavy weight of shame, of fault.
Logically, it shouldn’t. I wasn’t part of Harthon’s circle, so it shouldn’t matter whether my answer disappointed him. But the thought of speaking the weak-sounding truth filled me with trepidation, and it wasn’t because I thought he would retaliate and harm me.
Above me, Harthon shifted his weight. I still had yet to answer his question.
“No. It was something else,” I said vaguely, not wanting to speak about my nightmare either.
He nodded once and rose to his feet before walking away. As he disappeared into the darkness, Koerlyn’s frigid eyes flashed through my mind, and I knew I wouldn’t be sleeping again tonight. Exhaustion was better than falling back into that twisted reality that had felt all too real. I would rest my body for another hour or two, and then I’d get up and begin my training exercises. I’d just curled myself back under my blanket when Harthon approached once more and set his sleeping mat next to mine.
“What are you doing?” I asked in a rush as he laid down inches from my body, resting on his elbow. There was no need for him to warm me tonight.
He drew his blanket to his waist and gave me a bland expression. “Lying down to sleep,” he said, as if it was obvious.
“Why are you doing that here?”
“This seems like a good place to rest.”
Aggravation rose at his second obtuse response, and I welcomedthe emotion, grateful for anything that replaced the fear from my dream. “You had a good place to rest over there.”
