As if to make everything devastatingly worse, Luceran exhales deep and easy, as though he doesn’t have a care in the world, and tightens his grip around my waist, his nose brushing lazily against my hair.
Atilia tilts her head slowly, one brow lifting in quiet appraisal.“Comfortable, girl?”
I try to speak, but the words lodge somewhere between my lungs and my throat, or perhaps it’s Luceran’s arm still draped firmly over my chest that keeps them trapped there.
“I did tell you to take care of him,” she continues mildly, “but I never expectedthis.”
“It’s not what it looks like,” I blurt at last, panic rushing ahead of sense. “I read it in a book.”
She hums thoughtfully. “Did you?” Then, dry as frost. “Well, you’ll have to lend me that book someday. It seems quite the tale.”
I grumble under my breath, annoyed with myself at least as much as with her, and carefully peel Luceran’s arm from around me. He murmurs faintly in his sleep but doesn’t wake as I slide free of his embrace, dragging one of the blankets with me and wrapping it tightly around my body.
Atilia watches the entire process without the slightest hint of courtesy. She could have turned away. She could have afforded me a shred of dignity.
But that, apparently, is not Atilia’s way.
“Body heat,” I manage finally, cheeks burning as I clutch the blanket closed. “I read that body heat could help warm him, and it did.”
She considers this for a moment. Then her lips curve.“So you’re telling me that a beautiful woman’s naked body is enough to get the blood moving in a Fae male?” Her eyes flick to me pointedly. “Well. You are a genius.”
I grit my teeth. “Fine. If you want to make something sordid of it, go ahead. But Luceran’s temperature has risen.” I lift my chin. “That means he’s getting better.”
Atilia drifts closer to the bed, her gaze still sharp on me as she goes. She removes one glove, then the other, and lays them on the bed before brushing the back of her hand against Luceran’s cheek.
Shock flickers across her face in an instant as she feels the warmth there, sees the hint of color blooming beneath his skin.
“You’re right,” she mumbles.
I tighten the blanket around myself. “I told you. Purely science.”
She arches a brow. “Science?”
I nod with unwavering conviction. “Science.”
At last, some of the tension drains from her shoulders. It’s subtle, but I see it.“Well then,” she says, voice lower now, “thank you, Neve.”
There is weight in the words. Effort.
“You may have saved Luceran’s life.”
“He saved mine first,” I reply quickly. “In the Aurevault. I would have died there if he hadn’t torn open the rock and pulled me out.”
I wait for her to respond, for a cutting remark, a dismissal, something sharp.
But she doesn’t.
She looks at me instead with an expression I can’t quite place. Sympathy, perhaps. Or pity. Or something uncomfortably close to understanding. But it is brief. Her gaze drifts over me, then to my discarded clothes strewn across the room.
“Right,” I say, laughing awkwardly. “I’ll just…yes…right.”
I shuffle around the room, collecting my things and tossing them over my shoulder, all while making sure the blanket doesn’t slip. Once I’ve gathered everything, I hesitate.
Thisismy room, after all. Presumably, Atilia will leave. She does not move.
She remains beside the bed, watching Luceran with singular focus.
Right.
