Chapter 20
Soren wokewith a jolt the next morning. She couldn’t remember any details of her dream for the first time in many seasons; instead, she just felt panicked.
It was still dark out, the princess asleep next to her, and she dressed quickly before hurrying to the field. Thessa stirred as she approached, opening her enormous maw in what appeared to be a yawn.
He is not back yet.
Soren blew out a breath, trying to calm her racing pulse.Back from where?
Thessa feigned sleep after that, and Soren resisted the urge to slap her scales. Instead, she paced back and forth, her mind running over every possible scenario or explanation.
Vane had to be someone’s descendant. An ancestor of his must have lived when the gods had,lovedone of the immortal beings. And as for Vane’s odd behavior now…
She could not find a reason. He was cold enough to her most of the time, but she was beginning to see it was mostly just a part of that mask he tried so hard to keep in place. Every time they got close for a moment, he became distant again, as if he was trying to hide whatever he felt. And as for her feelings, shecould admit now that they felt oddly strong for knowing him for so little time. It was likely just the influence of the dreams.
“Soren.”
She whirled, finding Vane a few paces away. His arms were crossed over his chest, and gods, he looked so exhausted. Whatever the king was having him do was wearing him thin.
“Where were you? Or am I not allowed to know that?”
He took an audibly shaky breath and took a step forward, but his foot caught on the grass, and he faltered. She rushed forward as he all but collapsed onto the dew covered ground. Panic surged, and before she could think about what she was doing, she cupped his cheeks and demanded, “What’s wrong with you?”
He froze, his dark gaze flicking to hers. Then, slowly, he lifted a hand and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not. Are you injured?”
He took a shallow breath. “I thought we weren’t friends.”
“We aren’t,” she whispered. “But I…”
His gloved finger slid along her skin. “You what, Soren?”
“I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
She said the words in barely a whisper, and his eyes fluttered shut, his forehead falling against hers. Her breath shuddered in and out, and he nodded against her.
“I don’t sleep much,” he murmured. “Makes healing injuries a bit difficult sometimes.”
The sun was cresting over the horizon, the field bathed in golden light. He opened his eyes, and she found they were a liquid hazel in the early morning sun. They were so close, and the feeling was frightening. She had not been this close to someone in a long time, and with Vane especially, it incurred confusing thoughts and emotions.
“Where are you hurt?” she asked.
His nose was brushing hers, the tip of it cold and his eyes were half-lidded. “It’s nothing. Just a flesh wound.”
“Let me see.”
“So stubborn, Soren.”
She couldn’t stop the shiver that raced up her spine as he said her name like that, soft and rough around the edges at the same time. His hand still rested on her forearm, and she was still touching his face. The moment felt fragile, fledgling in the clouded breath of early morning.
“Please,” she whispered. “Maybe I can help.”
He sighed and pulled back. She didn’t want to admit that, for a split second, she chased him as he moved away, not wanting to lose his presence this near to her. It was impossible and nonsensical, but Vane was beginning to feel safe, like a home she had long ago lost.
He was still close, kneeling on the grass. As he untied the leather armor and pulled up his shirt, she was suddenly overwhelmed by a number of things.
He was covered in scars as well as barely healed bruises—a shallow but long slice cut from his ribs to low on his stomach, the ‘flesh wound’ he must have been talking of. She was ashamed to admit to the sudden rush of looping heat in her belly at the sight of the small strip of his exposed skin.
