24
Istared at the space Vaeron’s broad shoulders had disappeared until my heart ceased racing. The echo of the lock sliding into place had long since silenced. Yet my mind was a hive of activity, and wrapping understanding around the last half hour of my life was like trying to grasp a thundercloud.
The Issaraeth had snooped in my mind or I’d unknowingly projected my thoughts, and yet instead of dismissing it, he’d done something thoughtful with it. He’d asked, specifically, what he could do to return to me something I loved.
After he’d already taken so much.
The reminder didn’t have the teeth it used to. Not after he handled my broken knee with tenderness that didn’t belong to a merciless killer.
And thatfrightenedme like nothing else ever had. That the male who had slit the throat of my attacker right in front of me could be achingly gentle.
Until I threw it in his face like scalding water, trying to cleanse us both of the sin.
My knee ached terribly, but knowing that I had a chance of dancing again…it was everything. It was worth the struggle to sleep that would undoubtedly come. The poppy helped, especially the purple mix that sent me straight into oblivion, but I didn’t want to bethatunconscious tonight.
Because as I processed everything that had happened, I realized that this was theonlyroom available, and that meant the Issaraeth would be sleeping in here.
With me.
I glanced at the bed, which I currently sat in the center of. But if I scooted one way or the other, there was enough space for my mate to join me.
Is that his plan?
Sweat broke out on my spine, and I shucked off the blanket, hands shaking. With the fire now roaring, and the possibility of my mate sleeping close enough to touch, it was far too hot in this room.
The bond purred like a predatory cat. I wanted to shake some sense into it. There was no way this was happening. Not when he had slaughtered an entire group of males with no remorse, right in front of me. Demonstrated his skill and violence in brutal strikes of his sword.
Not when that fleeting feeling of safety arose alongside the memories of their blood dotting my skin.
It had been impossible to think when his face was an inch from mine.
I hated it. So, so much.
The tumult of emotion made my head spin. I pressed my fingers into my temples, massaging there and trying to relieve some tension.
He was brutally handsome. That much was impossible todeny. And the magic of our connection was clearly forcing us together, then rewarding our proximity.
It was the only reason heat pooled low in my belly, my body betraying me with every pulse.
The door creaked open, accompanied by the heavy footfalls of my mate. Air ceased movement in my lungs as the chain between us tightened with his approach. My chest expanded again with the heavenly scent of roasted vegetables and a savory sauce.
The Issaraeth carried a tray to the bed, setting it over my lap much like he had when I awoke in the healer’s room. To my shock, a bottle of white wine waited at the top corner. Before I could assemble a single coherent thought, he plucked it and wrapped his fingers around the neck. Light magic hugged the slim space between cork and glass, wedging it out.
He poured a healthy measure into two cups on the tray, then grabbed one for himself.
“Should help with the pain,” he grunted, not meeting my gaze.
I gaped at him, unable to smooth my expression.
He merely turned his back on me and moved like he was going to leave again. “Where are you going?” The words slipped past—too fast, too revealing.
He stopped, shoulders tensing beneath his dark tunic. His iron-gray hair was a mess atop his head, and the knot dropped as he released a heavy sigh. “To eat.”
“By yourself?” I clarified.
Why are you asking like you care, Sylaira?
The Issaraeth tipped his head over his shoulder, giving me a glimpse of a glacier. “Would you like me to dine with you instead?”
