“Um….”
“I can stay if you like, although I don’t think you need me, or I can go and try to actually get some sleep in my brother’s tent. Up to you.”
She looked at the dark rings under Rafe’s eyes, the way his shoulders sagged and his hair stood up at the back of his head, and knew he’d been woken night after night for days. “You go and sleep. I’ll shout if I need you.”
Rafe climbed wearily to his feet and gave her a friendly pat on her shoulder. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
She gave him a quick smile before turning back to Val. “Please call me Alanna.”
“Alanna then,” he agreed softly as he let himself out of the tent and into the night.
Alanna snuggled in closer, winding her fingers through Val’s as she continued to rub his forehead and sing. When she’d run through every song she knew, she started telling him stories of her childhood, the myths and legends that she’d loved as a child.
And, ever so slowly, he relaxed beside her into a true sleep.
Her own weariness crept up in the quiet of the tent, and eventually she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. She briefly considered going back to her tent, but she knew she couldn’t leave him, and she couldn’t face waking Rafe up once more.
Instead, slowly and carefully, ensuring she didn’t wake him, she blew out the lamp and climbed under the blankets next to Val.
She had meant to stay just close enough that he would know he was not alone, but he rolled over, capturing her under his heavy arm, and she froze for a moment, uncertain.
He didn’t wake. If anything, he settled into an even deeper sleep.
She curled up, her back against his front, his warmth spreading through the thin shirt between them, his breath soft against the back of her neck, and his arm wrapped tightly around her. She had never imagined feeling so protected, or so much quiet joy, as she closed her eyes and let herself drift.
She awoke, cold and confused, and opened her eyes to see that Val had rolled over onto his back and taken the blanket with him.
She was close enough that even in the dim light, she could see how his face had smoothed and softened, and she wished she could press kisses over those faint lines and ease them further.
The blanket was wrapped low around his waist, exposing the brutal scars from the cruelty he’d endured, the harsh red burns over his wrists from the iron that had bound him, and she grieved for everything he’d suffered.
Her nurse had told her the ancient story of Airmed, whose tears over her fallen brother had grown into healing herbs, and she wished her own tears could have saved Val. She had surely shed enough.
But far more than that, she wished she could touch him. To run her fingers down his smooth, tanned skin with its dusting of thick black hair, and over the heavy muscles of his chest. To follow the fascinating trail leading beneath the blanket. She wanted to touch her tongue to the intriguing discs of his flat nipples as those formidable arms closed around her.
And she really wanted him to open his eyes and look at her with the same heat and intimacy that Tristan had for Nim.
She sighed and sat up quietly, letting her wishes float away. He needed to sleep. And she couldn’t bear for him to wake up—to forget that he had called for her and wanted her—and tell her to go.
She pulled on her boots, wrapped her blanket around her shoulders, and silently let herself out of the tent.
She stood at the entrance for a moment, listening, and then turned to make her way quietly through the camp.
A dark figure stepped out in front of her, and she almost screamed in the sudden rush of horrified terror, before recognizing Reece and stifling the sound into a frightened gurgle.
She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders and stepped to the side, frightened and wanting to escape. But he stepped with her, blocking her, and sneered, the reek of wine and spirits seeping through his pores.
“What have we got here then?” he snarled sarcastically.
She had no intention of crediting him with any kind of response and turned, planning to go the long way back to her tent, when a heavy hand clamped down on her shoulder and spun her back.
He glared at her, drunk and belligerent. “I knew it wasn’t true.”
His breath wafted over her in acrid waves, and she pulled back, trying to shrug him off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He laughed bitterly, shifting to grip her arm. “I never believed that you were the sweet innocent that he claimed.”
Reece leaned over and spat on the ground beside her. “No. Women deceive and betray, and you’re the worst of them all. Look at what’s happened since you arrived in the palace. And now you’re destroying Val too, breaking him with your lies.”
