“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said too quickly. “I was just washing.”
She can see that, you idiot.
Kara reached out a hand towards him. “Come here.”
“Look, maybe we should–”
“Not to talk,” she said firmly.
He crossed the room, glanced at the bed, then lowered himself onto the floor beside it.
“What are you doing?” Kara asked.
He looked up at her. “I thought – after what I said, I didn’t think you’d want me to–”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not–”
She grabbed his wrist. “We’ll talk about it. Tomorrow. But right now you hold me. Please.”
Sebastian hesitated, confused. He’d expected anger, coldness. Not this. But he could never have said no to her. He let her pull him up onto the bed beside her. He was tense and awkward at first, but as she settled her cheek against his bare chest his arms came around her of their own accord. He was holding tighter than he meant to but he couldn’t bring himself to loosen his grip.
I love you, Kara.
“Mmh, that’s better,” she murmured, almost asleep already, “you’re comfortable.”
She really was. Totally comfortable with him. And apparently far more forgiving than he had any right to expect. Lying like this he could almost convince himself that she would have chosen him anyway. Without Fatàn’s games. Almost. But not quite. Her breathing steadied, deep and even with sleep, and her hand relaxed. Sebastian forced his own eyes closed – pointless really – he knew sleep wouldn’t come. So he lay in the dark, systematically cataloguing his multitude of failures,until something warm on his chest pulled him from his thoughts. He looked down. There was a faint glow, a small pulse beneath her palm, where it rested on his bare skin.
What–
It spread, soft emerald light seeping from her. It threaded slowly through his chest, through locked muscle. Sebastian tensed automatically, ready to tear himself away. His memories of her sleep magic weren’t kind. He braced for that same drowning pull he’d felt before, the kind that took control from you. But it never came. Her face was still completely peaceful. She wasn’t doing this consciously. This magic wasn’t forceful. It was an invitation, demanding nothing. Just offered peace. He knew instinctively he could shake free from its grip with a single thought if he decided to. Only... he didn’t want to. The storm inside him dulled under her magic. The fury and panic and guilt slipped away to the edges of his consciousness. He hadn’t known silence could feel this good. Hadn’t known how much he wanted it until it was offered. His breathing deepened. His eyelids felt heavy.
Finally, Sebastian slept.
CHAPTER 36
TWO HALVES OF A WHOLE
Of those that are victims of a Soulbond break, most submit to death within one cycle. Though the body endures, the will does not.
–Hale Medical Journal: The Limits of Magical Healing
Kara woke slowly, disorientated.
Sunlight streamed through the window – but the angle was wrong. Too high. Too warm. It wasn’t dawn-light. Not even morning-light.
It’s afternoon.
She rolled over to find Sebastian sitting up next to her in bed, his head in his hands, magic crackling across his knuckles. His sword leaned untouched against the wall, and his boots and tunic lay abandoned on the floor.
“Sebastian?” she whispered, afraid he might vanish if she spoke too loudly. Or rage. Or walk away again.
He lifted his head to look at her, and she studied his face. He’d slept. Not the restless, haunted half-hours she’d grown used to that always ended with him jerking awake, crimson sparking, but real sleep. Hours of it.
“You’re awake,” he said, voice rough.
“Yeah,” she said tentatively. “How long have we been asleep?”
