A smile played on my lips. “That’s pretty much all night.”
“I suppose you’re right,” her honeyed voice sweetened further with amusement. “We wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Her violet eyes—now light—roved over me with a warmth that reminded me so much of Mrs. E, soothing my aching my soul.
“Here,” she said, leaning forward in her chair, delicate hand out.
Not understanding, I followed her gaze down to my forearm, finding an angry scar. Stars, I’d completely forgotten I’d sliced myself open in desperation.
Sitting at the edge of my seat, I extended my injured arm toward her. Gently, the spring fae gently placed one hand under my wrist, the back of my palm resting on hers. Then she hovered her other hand over the long cut. Instantly, a cooling sensation tickled my skin as the evidence of yesterday was slowly healed away—and how I wished her power could wipe it from my soul too.
Releasing my wrist, she offered me a smile as bright as the sun. “Good as new.” She winked, then sat back in the chair.
I traced where the scar should’ve been with an index finger, unable to see or feel it. “Thank you.”
She waved me off. “It was nothing.”
Compared to what Myron is doingimplied in her words.
Suddenly the question that had been held on the tip of mytongue by fear couldn’t stay unspoken. Scrunching the blanket’s soft pink fabric between my fingers, I said, “How’s Tarrin?”
“He’s alive.”
I let out a long sigh, something heavy lifting from my chest, if only by a fraction.
“He’s a fighter,” she continued. “Myron stayed with him all night. I suspect he’ll have to stay with him for a while. A week. Perhaps more. It’s very delicate work, like only being able to embroider a stitch or two per hour.”
My eyes went wide. Stars, the tedium of it.
“Don’t worry”—she winked—"Myron is the most patient male you’ll ever meet."
Tossing the blanket aside, I said, “I need to see him.”
Her nose scrunched in the most adorable way. “Why don’t we take care of you first?”
My brows pulled together. “I’m fine. I can eat later.”
“Sweetheart,” she said, voice kind but in the way one is kind to soften what they are about to say. “You’re covered in blood still.” She pointed to her head, indicating the blood was in my hair.
I brought my fingers to my hairline, and sure enough, it was caked in it.
“Kai is running a bath as we speak. Why don’t you wash up. I’ll get some food and set it up outside for us to have breakfast together, okay?”
Knowing she was right and that I needed to wash yesterday off, I nodded in agreement and trailed the citrus scent through the archway.
Chapter 24
Fetus for a Fetus
I’d never been on the massive balcony off the main room of my residence, and as I walked out I wondered why the heck I hadn’t. The lake view and warming sun were an instant salve for my soul.
Fiora sat on the outdoor sofa facing the glimmering lake, legs crossed, sipping tea, the breakfast spread forgotten on the table as she waited for me.
She smiled as I approached, deciding to sit beside her and share in the pristine view. Her gaze drifted back to the unending vistas below. “No matter how many times I come to Caius’ home, this view always gives me cause to pause and appreciate its beauty,” she said, voice laced with quiet awe.
“It’s nice to know that immorality doesn’t ruin that kind of appreciation,” I said, tucking my legs in.
She angled her body toward me, switching her crossed legs and resting an elbow on the back of the couch, looking right at home. “Is that a fear of yours now that you’re immortal; that you’ll become disenchanted?”
