When he’s done, he stands and grabs a towel from the hook nearby, holding it open for me. I rise from the tub, water cascading down my naked body. Zephyr doesn’t look away—but his gaze isn’t hungry or lustful. It’s reverent. Soft. Something deeper. Something dangerous. I don’t shy away from his gaze as I move toward him.
He wraps the towel around me and helps pat me dry, fingers brushing my skin with the utmost care. Then he leads me into my old bedroom, dressing me in one of Niko’s soft sleep shirts. It swamps my body, but it smells like home. I only wish I had something of Zephyr’s to wear too.
I sit down on the edge of the bed, my limbs heavy,body wrung out. But Zephyr doesn’t leave, and I silently thank him for that.
“Lie down,” he says, tugging the blanket back.
“But we should go see Niko,” I argue.
Zephyr shakes his head, unrelenting. “He’s still asleep. Finnick is with him. He will be fine without us. Finnick tells me you haven’t slept yet.”
Traitor, I think, but don’t say.
“So, lie down, Evangeline. It’s time to get some sleep,” he adds.
There’s no point in arguing. If Niko is stubborn, then Zephyr is impossible. He won’t budge, not on this. Plus, I doubt he’s had much sleep either. So, I do as he asks of me and tuck myself into the soft bedding. Despite my protests, the soft mattress feels so good against my tired body.
I half expect Zephyr to leave, but he hesitates for a beat, then climbs in behind me. He slides an arm around my waist and pulls me against his chest. I stiffen in surprise, but the warmth of his body seeps into mine like sunlight through cracked stone. It’s easy to relax against him, and I don’t realize just how much I need his warmth until now.
His voice is barely above a whisper. “You’re not alone, Evangeline. No matter how this ends… I’ll make sure you’re never alone.”
My breath catches, and I don’t respond. Not because I don’t want to, but because I’m afraid my voice will shatter if I try. I don’t want to say the wrong words and ruin whatever fragile foundation we are building. I nodinstead, fingers curling around the edge of his sleeve like it might keep him here longer.
Sleep starts to pull at me, slow and thick.
Just before I fall, I feel the faintest press of lips at the crown of my head. A ghost of a kiss.
Then nothing.
Only warmth.
Only him.
Only peace, for the first time in days.
Chapter 33
Zephyr
Evangeline sleeps through the night, not stirring once. I wake up multiple times despite the fact I’m exhausted. I’m too high-strung to get more than two hours of sleep at a time. I constantly wake up to check on her.
In sleep, she looks so serene and at peace. Seeing her in the tub, small and fragile, broke something in me. Something I have been trying not to feel since Evangeline came into our lives. I shouldn’t have left her for as long as I did, but time got away from me as I sat with my grief.
Since I watched the destruction of my family, I swore I would never love more than one person. That I can only be trusted with one other heart. No one has made me rethink that decision like Evangeline has. She makes me feel as if I could love another without breaking the bonds we have forged together. This way of thinking is dangerous, but at the same time, I fear I may be missing out on another chance at happiness.
These are not the thoughts I want to have this early in the morning.
Leaving Evangeline to sleep, I slip out of bed, careful not to jostle and wake her. The moment I pull away, she pulls the blanket tightly around herself and curls up into the pillow. I allow myself a moment to appreciate her sleeping form before making my way next door to check on Niko. Finnick stayed with him last night, so I know he’s in good hands, but the tension in my chest won’t go away until I see him myself.
I stop at the door that connects our room to Evangeline’s old room. Laughter wafts through the wall, and I push open the door to find Niko sitting up in bed. Finnick is in the middle of an animated story about his encounters with a feisty pixie woman he’s been not-so-secretly crushing on for the last few months.
“…and then she throws the damn flowerpot at my head,” Finnick says, flailing his arms as if providing a reenactment. “Calls me a ‘gilded dandelion with a superiority complex.’ Can you believe that?”
Niko chuckles weakly, the sound more breath than voice, but it’s something. He’s sitting up today, propped against the headboard with pillows and a blanket wrapped around his waist. The dark circles under his eyes are still there, but the feverish flush is gone from when he was initially cursed. Small victories. He isn’t cured, and won’t be cured unless we can figure out a way to restore our food source, but he no longer looks like he’s at Death’s door.
“She’s not wrong,” I mutter, folding my arms, catching the attention of both of them.
Finnick looks personally offended. “I’ll have you know I am nothing like a dandelion. I’m a daffodil at worst. Maybe a snapdragon, but definitely something regal and a little dangerous.”
