I wasn’t going to let him minimize what he went through with these nightmares or his worries about Oblivion, even if this conversation turned into a fight. But no anger burned in his silver eyes. There was no hint of rage or flicker of bubbling resentment. His gaze remained soft as if my touch and presence helped keep him grounded, but I could feel the energy bucking against his control. He leaned into my hand and closed his eyes, allowing my words to quell the growing storm contained within his skin.
“Likewise,” he said.
“You’re doing it again. The same thing you always harp on me for. One of the reasons you left me,” I said, dropping my hand and returning to my drink.
“I did not leave you, so to speak. I retrieved one thing that could replace what you gave up for me … and I returned,” he said, poking my side playfully. The townspeople behind us continued to dance to the music without a care. They didn’t know that Samkiel was trying to adjust to the fact that he didn’t have to carry the world on his shoulders alone anymore. “All I am doing is trying to focus on and fix the things we can control. My nightmares are just a manifestation of my stress and worry for you. Oblivion is flickering because I lost the one ring that helped me control it. So, yes, I have been having nightmares, but they only started up again after this dream lover of yours appeared.”
My nose wrinkled. “Okay, first of all, he is not mydream lover,you jealous ass, and maybe this Killium can make you another ring since he’s good at that. Also, what are these nightmares about?”
Samkiel tapped his rings against the glass he held, and I could feel his leg bouncing beneath the table.
“Are they the same ones from Onuna?” I asked. “The ones you kept from me.”
His eyes cut to mine before he slammed his drink back, his throat working the spicy liquor down faster than before. The glass hit the table with a chime before he slid it to me.
“Yes, almost the same. Except it’s Nismera holding you, and then you’re just …” he took a breath as if speaking it out loud might make it real, “ashes.”
I fingered the rim of my glass as I watched him. “It doesn’t mean anything, though.”
“Maybe,” he said, but I could tell he didn’t believe it for one second. “Maybe not. I’ve dreamt things before that have come to pass.”
Pain flashed in his eyes, so profound and devastating that I felt it like a blow. I placed my hand on top of his. “True, but you also dreamed about a talking sandwich once because you were hungry. So, as you said, this could just be a manifestation of stress because, like always, you are worried about me.”
He snorted and grinned at me, but the shadows didn’t leave his eyes. “It is probably that. I have just found the last few months challenging, and I can’t do it without you,” he said.
“You and me both.” I nodded, pouring each of us another glass. “Which is why tonight we are going to drink and laugh and have a good night. We will worry about the world again tomorrow.”
He nodded, his eyes locked with mine. “Just promise me that if you turn to ash or disappear, you’ll take me with you.”
I raised my hand, elbow coming down hard against the table as I extended my pinky. “Pinky promise.”
He smiled back and gripped it with his finger before turning our hands so he could press a kiss to the back of mine. We stayed like that for a while, smiling, laughing, and talking to one another. It was a pleasant reprieve, a calm while we pretended we didn’t have a million and one tasks to complete.
When we finished the first bottle, I hopped to my feet and went in search of another.
“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” Samkiel asked when I returned victorious with a new bottle gripped in my hand.
With a wicked grin, I sat down and grabbed our glasses, pouring for both of us.
“Well, I feel the need to know what drunk Samkiel is like,” I said.
He picked up his glass and smirked at me before tapping my nose. “A terror like you, but not as constant.”
“I want to see.”
His eyes sparkled as he watched me. “You would.”
My lip protruded in a small pout. “Come on. Remember, one night of mindless fun.”
His lips pursed into a thin line before he downed his entire drink. “Fine.”
I giggled. “I win.”
His face was priceless as he sneered, the taste apparently not his favorite. “That,” his face twisted in mild disgust, “burns.”
“Right?” I grabbed the bottle, looking at the worn label. “I really like it. I think it gets hotter the more you have.”
His laugh was half gasp as he covered his mouth with the back of his hand. “So I’m learning.”
