I hold my hand over the wound, letting my shadowlightflow into him. The wound closes, leaving only a scar. Still, he doesn’t stir.
My shadows curl around him tenderly, brushing his skin lovingly.
I glance at Torin.
“You’re relieved.” My voice is firm.
He hesitates. “But—”
I don’t let him finish. Shadows surge around Koen and me, swallowing us whole until the world falls away.
When it clears, we’re in my chambers.
He lies sprawled on the floor. My gaze flicks to my bed, then back at him.
“Shadows,” I murmur, “help me move him.”
They obey immediately, cradling his head and shoulders. I roll my eyes at their eagerness. They like him far too much. I grab his legs, and together we heave him onto the mattress. Even with their help, his sheer size—six-five, muscled, unyielding—makes it a struggle. I’m still not sure how I managed to drag him so far from the mawless.
At last, he rests on my bed.
After I wash up and put on a nightdress, I pull his boots off. Then I fetch a damp cloth, wiping away the blood and dirt streaking his face and arms. He’s still bare-chested when I draw the duvet over him.
Lyingnext to him feels far too intimate, even though we’ve already slept next to each other during the second trial. I tell myself that was just for survival. Circumstance. This feels different. Dangerous, somehow. My pulse races at the thought.
I’ll just use my reading chair. Yeah, I’ll curl up therewith a blanket and sleep.
But when I glance at it, the pain in my bones protests.I went through that trial too. I fought; I endured. I deserve the comfort of my own bed. Why should I exile myself to the corner of my own chambers?
Still, my feet can’t carry me there. Instead, I pace, chewing the inside of my cheek, arms folded tightly across my chest.
Maybe I should have taken him to his own chambers.
That would’ve been safer. But bringing him here felt right, in a way I can’t explain. Instinctive, almost.
I stop pacing and look at the bed. At him. My bed is wide enough. If I stay on the opposite side, there will be space. Distance. No risk.
Yet, the thought of that distance feels emptier than it should.
I hesitate one last heartbeat before sighing and climbing in with careful movements. I settle on the farthest edge from him, blankets drawn tight around me.
The space between us doesn’t feel like a wall. It feels like a thread, invisible and pulling, as if the air itself bends toward him. My eyes stray despite my best effort, tracing the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way sleep smooths his features into peace. He looks unburdened, almost gentle. Gods, something in me aches at the sight. Something dangerous and hopeful.
I force myself to keep still, to respect the distance I’ve drawn. The longer I watch him, the lighter my chest feels. As though for the first time in years, the weight pressing down hasshifted just slightly off my heart.
Eventually, my lids grow heavy. My last thought before sleep claims me is not of fear, or pain, or even guilt. It’s how safe he looks lying there. And how safe I feel lying here beside him.
Chapter 38
?---- Koen ?----?
“Time to get up!” A voice drags me from sleep, but I keep my eyes closed.
The scent of lavender and vanilla lulls me deeper into the warmth I’m wrapped in. I groan, tightening my arms around—wait.
The blanket is abruptly ripped away, cold rushing in. “I saidit’s time to get up,” the voice snaps again.
“Shhh…Koen, go back to sleep,” a soft, feminine voice murmurs beside me.
