“Caspian.” She nodded in acknowledgment.
“That’s all you have to say?” he asked blearily.
“Well, I admit, I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” she said drily.
He snorted into his pillow.
Caspian propped his head on his arm and looked at her strangely. “Why did you help me?”
“I don’t know,” she said, feeling a bit flustered. “It felt like the right thing to do. I obviously didn’t know it wasyou.”
“But why? Why are you afraid of me now? I can smell your fear. I can feel your heart race.” He gestured to himself. “But you spent the night with me when I looked like a monster and were not afraid at all. Why is that?”
She paused, considering. “The demon from the library, as I called you in your demon form … has never hurt me and saved me, twice.”
“ButIhave never hurt you,” Caspian protested. “And I look like a human man in this form. Why would you be more comfortable with a gigantic demon instead?”
“Are you sure now is the best time for this discussion?” she asked, her tone skeptical. “We can talk when you’re feeling better.”
Caspian glanced at her and undid one of his bandages. His flesh was smooth and new.
“Demon, remember,” he said, giving her an amused look that she did not return. “So why did you help me?” he persisted, stubborn as an ox.
“I don’t know,” she muttered, suddenly feeling shy and embarrassed.
She had tucked him into bed and told him a bedtime story. Goodness. Her face flamed.
She stood up, turning to leave. “I’ll be going now.”
“Elizabeth?” he inquired.
She looked back, and he had held out a hand. She placed hers in his, not sure what he wanted. He squeezed, and she moved to sit awkwardly at the edge of the bed. Another squeeze, and he drew it closer. Resigned, her eyes lifted to the ceiling, and then to their clasped fingers.
“Why were you in the library covered in blood?” she asked tentatively.
“The war I’ve mentioned is brewing in the Underworld right now,” Caspian replied. “Raziel continues to send small groups into the third circle. I fought for Lucifer last night, with his household, to keep them at bay.”
“And you won the battle, I assume?”
“For now.” He shook his head in disbelief, releasing her. “He was not present in the battle, though, which makes us worried. They think he is gathering a real army, trying to tire us out with these skirmishes. They say a larger war is coming.”
She smoothed her skirts. “I see.”
“I wish you would stay a while,” Caspian said, his voice low and gravelly from sleep.
He opened his arms. Hesitantly, she slid onto the bed and tucked herself into his warmth, resting her head against his chest. She held herself stiffly, unsure if she should stay.
“Let’s remain like this, just for a moment,” Caspian murmured into her hair.
She should have said no. She should have gotten up and left, refusing to speak to him outside their night together. But instead, she said, “Okay.”
She felt his fingers touch her hair. “Your hair is beautiful—like burnished gold.”
Elizabeth chuckled and leaned over him, running her fingers through his hair. She grinned and said dramatically, “Your hair is dark, like a raven’s wing.”
Caspian’s lips tugged upwards. “That sounds much more ominous.”
She raised a brow. “Fitting, is it not?”
