“Never put yourself in danger like that again.” I scarcely breathed the words.
“You didn’t have to intervene. You would have made it to the surface just fine.”
Foka, this woman. “I didn’t care about making it to the surface. That wasn’t even my concern.” My shadows wrapped possessively around her even as my anger flared against her.
She bristled. “Gods, I’m sorry. It’s fine. Why are you so pissed off?”
I turned her chin to face me, so she had no excuse when I addressed her defiance. “Do you think you don’t matter? That losing you again wouldn’t destroy me? Never. Do. That. Again.”
She nodded slowly, holding my stare and peering deep into my soul. Not that it mattered; I’d bared it willingly.
I could feel my magic dimming with the curse’s effects as I rewound the makeshift tourniquet, satisfied with how it fared. My shadows continued offering their meager warmth, and a faint smile graced her lips. She reached up and touched my neck with tentative fingers.
“What are these? They look like tattoos.” She strained to read the glowing script.
“The runes show up when I use shadow magic. Ilayah thought they caused the shadows. Xuri thinks they feed them. They are ancient Sarulien.” I savored her exploratory touch, tracing the lines that scrolled from my hairline to below my collarbone, encompassing the entirety of my neck.
“The language of the gods.”
I nodded. Her hand dropped to her lap, and she nuzzled into my shadows like a cat in the sun.
I managed to get both of our cloaks out of our satchels. I leaned against the cave wall and she laid her head in my lap.
“Just rest. I’ve got you.” Her shoulders released with a long exhale, and I smoothed wisps of hair away from her beautiful face.
Listening to her soft breathing loosened something knotted in my chest, and I wondered how deep I had already fallen for the king’s spy.
Chapter Thirty-One
THE SPY
The stone room was the same. The sound of the chains whispered torment. I gritted my teeth against the fear. My father walked in, his scowl oozing with disdain. The sound of dripping water echoed throughout.
“You don’t have to do this,” I pled. He smiled cruelly. I knew better than to beg. It just whets his appetite. He held a weapon as his wings extended. Scales began cascading down his head, over his shoulders, and down his body.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Was he always a dreki? Is he a Nokt? I couldn’t remember. His feral eyes zeroed in on me. A helpless prey. I writhed against my bindings, moaning my fears. “Father, please don’t. Please.”
He raised a weapon in his clawed hands. The metal reflected the moonlight from the small window.
“No!”
I jolted upward. My eyes opened, searching wildly for my captor. Confusion and fear gripped me until a familiar voice enveloped me. “You’re safe. You’re safe.”
Dom cautiously extended his hand, moving tendrils of hair from my face. I flinched, but forced myself to settle. He softly regarded me, tenderness radiating as he slowly inched backward, offering space. I attempted to stand, my leg screaming out in a shock of pain. I’d forgotten about that injury.
“How long was I asleep?” I asked, attempting to deflect from my clear distress.
“Not very long.” He hesitated, studying me. “You still have nightmares.”
His statement unnerved me in my raw state. Our shared history left me exposed to things I normally hid, and I warred with my desire to lean into his comfort. I chose to bind my embarrassment with thick ropes, shoving it into a dark closet.
I casually waved my hand in the air. “I’m used to them. Although this time a Nokt showed up in my dream, so that wasn’t pleasant.” I shrugged and forced a weak chuckle. My tapping fingers agitated the ensuing silence.
