Isla has a better chance of surviving if sheisn’twith me.
We finish up in silence. Julienne folds the cleaning rag and hangs it by the bucket.
“I think it would be best if you slept down under the floor tonight,” she says. “Just in case. Otherwise, we’ll have to take turns staying up to keep watch.”
I think of Isla sleeping below. Of the small space. Of us sleeping together on the same mattress. It isn’t proper, but staying up here would inconvenience Julienne. It would put us all at risk.
I nod. “You’re right. That would be for the best.”
“Would you like to wash up first?” she asks.
“That would be great.”
Julienne shows me to a basin of water near the back of the cabin. I splash my face, scrubbing away the dirt and sweat of the day. The water is refreshing. I dry myself with a rough towel she provides.
When I return to the trapdoor, she’s already lifted it for me.
“Goodnight, Your Majesty,” she whispers.
“Just Sebastian,” I remind her.
She smiles. “Goodnight, Sebastian.”
I descend the ladder. Above me, Julienne replaces the trapdoor and covers it with the animal skin. I hear her moving about for a few minutes more. Then all is silent.
Isla is still asleep, curled on her side. Her hair has fallen across her face.
I pull off the tattered tunic, tossing it to the side. Then I move to the far edge of the mattress and lie on my back, staring up at the dark underside of the floorboards.
Sleep doesn’t come easily. My mind races with plans and contingencies. With doubts and second-guesses.
After a time, I force my thoughts to still. To focus on my breathing. On the darkness around me.
Eventually, exhaustion wins, my eyes drift closed, and I sleep.
14
Isla
I slowly open my eyes, feeling so comfortable that I want to drift back to sleep. My pillow is so warm and—
I snap my eyes open, sucking in a breath.
I’m wrapped around Sebastian. My leg is thrown over his thigh. My arm draped across his bare chest. My face is tucked into the curve of his neck, where I can feel his pulse beating steady and strong.
Oh, my goodness!
I freeze, not daring to move. Not daring to breathe.
He’s still asleep. His chest rises and falls in a slow, deep rhythm. The steady sound of his breathing fills the small space beneath the floorboards.
Are the guards still here? Is it still nighttime? I feel well-rested, so I don’t think it is. I let my eyes move around the room until going back to the big fae beneath me. I can see clearly. Sunlight streams in through the floorboards above.
Not night, then.
His chest is bare. He’s all muscle. His abs are clearly defined, each ridge and valley carved to perfection, even fully relaxed in sleep. His arms are thick with muscle. Even his forearm, which is lying across me.
The eclipse marking on his chest seems to shimmer, the golden sun surrounded by swirling darkness. I’ve never seen anything like it.
