The only protest he offered was when I blamed myself for not protecting her. For letting him catch her instead of me the first time. For not sneaking virelthorn into her food even though shewantedto See. For any number of things my mind conjured to ignite self-loathing and scorch myself from the inside.
“I’ve run a bath for you,” he continued, gently dragging metoward the edge of the bed. The only time I’d left it was to relieve myself. I’d barely eaten either.
My head swam as he positioned me upright. Cupping my face, he captured my gaze. “I know this day will be hard for you. But I’ll be right there, by your side. You don’t have to do this alone.”
Alone.
But without Heraphia, without my parents, without my Elessarum friends, wasn’t that what I would always be? Could I really exist in a world without them, where my strongest connection was my mate—the male who happened to be responsible for all my loss?
A muscle feathered in his jaw like he’d been reading my thoughts. But he didn’t comment on them. Instead, he exhaled, long and slow, like he was bracing for something. Probably whatever harsh words wanted to bite out of me.
A gasp burst from me as he gripped my waist and tossed me over his shoulder, striding toward the bathing chamber.
“Hey!” I protested, my ribs banging against his backside. But weakness held me hostage, and I had nothing more than a word to offer him.
He slid me down his torso a moment later, the scent of ghostflowers wrapping around me, heady and intoxicating. Around the bath, low candles burned, their flames flickering and dancing in the mirror’s gleam.
Vaeron tugged on the hem of my tunic, and I lifted my arms overhead, allowing him to remove it as I gaped at what he had arranged.
Petals floated atop the water’s surface, mixing with silky oils. The window was open, allowing fresh forest air to trickle in. The gauzy curtain lifted in a light breeze.
He tugged down my pants, leaving me bare before him. Istepped out of them and leaned down, dipping my fingers into the water.
It was decadently warm.
His hot body crowded mine a moment later. “Get in.”
Those words, a command both soft and firm, had me obeying. I slid into the sunken bath, water trickling in my ears. A moment later, Vaeron stepped in too, and I glimpsed the hard planes of his body before he submerged himself.
When he surfaced, his iron-gray hair darker now that it was wet, he held out his arms. I paddled into them and turned so my back was pressed against his front. The mirror across from us revealed the darkness that clung to me like a thunderhead. I welcomed the sight. Memorized it for when I’d need to hold this simmering rage in my hands in the future.
Neither of us spoke as our gazes collided in our reflection. My mate reached for a bar of soap with quiet purpose and brought it to my shoulder. In slow, languid strokes, he cleaned me. I watched each movement, focusing on that instead of the screaming sorrow of my thoughts.
Each wave of heat brought respite to my aching limbs. Eventually, I sighed and surrendered, allowing him to lift my limbs and continue his delicate care.
Not once did he attempt to touch me in a way that was anything other than reverent.
“Duck underwater so I can wash your hair,” he murmured in my ear.
Gulping in a breath, I submerged myself. His strong, sure fingers massaged my scalp, and I let out a low groan. Goddess, did it feel good. I surfaced again, and he worked the floral soap through my roots then along the tangled length of my silver locks.
Twice, I slipped beneath the surface and allowed him toscrub. Then, he applied oil to the ends and twisted them to a bun atop my head. He pinned it in place with a long stick.
Because in reality, he was preparing me for a public display. A performance of grief. A stage I never wanted to be on.
“How are you feeling now?” he murmured, turning me to face him.
“A little better,” I admitted. Something about him bathing me had washed away the worst of my sorrow.
It was…nice to be taken care of like this. When for so long, I had to be strong. Had to always be on alert, ready to sprint.
That hadn’t changed upon arriving at Thalvireth. If anything, it had gotten worse. Especially once the court knew of our mating bond. The whispers that followed me wherever I went. The way Dasha seemed to appear every time I had to return to Vaeron’s rooms by myself.
To surrender to Vaeron’s loving touch was foreign, and yet I found myself craving more of it.
“Thank you,” I whispered, reaching up to brush my hand along the stubble coating his jaw.
He captured my wrist and pressed back into me. “Of course.”
