“Valerian, lavender, one of your vials titled ‘slumber.’ At least your naming conventions are clear. And then some rare herbs and magic to mix it all together.”
I’d have to get a list of those rare herbs at a later date. “Thanks.”
Her eyes narrowed as she watched me eat. “Don’t thank me. It was my lord...” She winced as if the phrase had tumbled from her lips by accident before continuing. “He insisted you stay under for your own safety. And to keep anyone from demanding you threadmend again too soon.”
Orin. Heat bloomed in my chest. “Who else knows about Zota?”
“Everyone does.” She pursed her lips. “If they knew you were awake, they’d—”
It was as if that very thought summoned him, and Orin quietly opened the door to peek his head into the room. He stilled when he saw me sitting beside the unlit fire, food in hand, and then beamed. He was by my side in an instant, and I was overcome by the boyish charm of his features, the sheer excitement in his endless green eyes.
“Edira,” he murmured.
My name was breathless on his lips, and my heart skipped a beat. “Hi.”
“Leave us,” Orin said to Vora without breaking eye contact with me. He’d kneeled before me and clasped my knees with his hands, and damn if I didn’t feel like a queen. Like someone worthy of this devotion and admiration. I set aside my food and placed my hands over his. Squeezed them tight.
Vora pursed her lips. “Orin, I don’t think—”
“LordOrin,” he cut in quickly, his grip tightening on me a sliver. My brows crept together. He caught me staring, and his expression softened. “Apologies, Vora. I’ve been on edge waiting for Edira to wake. Can we please have some privacy?”
“Of course,” Vora said. She hesitated for a beat, and remorse flickered through her eyes. I barely had a chance to glimpse it before she hid it away behind a dutiful facade of obedience. While I couldn’t fathom why such sadness had marred her face, especially in the wake of my recent discovery, it stuck with me. It was a splinter worming beneath my skin that lodged itself deep in my muscles, just out of reach. I frowned at her back as she left, closing the door behind her with a soft click.
“Are you all right?” Orin cupped my face, and I brought my gaze back to him. Back to warmth and joy and hope. It was enough to burn away the doubt Vora had seeded, and I settled into his touch.
“I did it.”
His eyes twinkled. “I know. Edira, you... you are incredible. Tell me everything.”
And I did. I told him about what I’d witnessed with Ywena—who had yet to return, likely thanks to Orin demanding I rest—and how I’d applied that theory to my own magic. How I stitched Zota’s blight into my body and drew it in, cleansing the sickness from his threads. How I’d nearly slipped into oblivion, but still managed to pull myself back. I told him how beautiful Zota’s threads were.
“And soon Mavis’s, too,” I said quietly as I met his gaze. “And Noam’s and Nohr’s. I can’t wait to talk to them again.”
“And you will.” Orin’s full-blown smile had me melting into him, and he chuckled as he pulled me into his arms. He felt so safe and warm, and I nuzzled his neck.
He lifted me with ease and carried me to bed, tucking meagainst his side. “I think I’ll ask them about the time you attacked that child in defense of Noam.” Mirth filled his eyes as he stroked my cheek. “I’m dying to know what they thought of their sister in that moment.”
I rolled my lower lip into my mouth as I grinned. “They’ll probably say I was out of line.”
“So volatile,” he murmured. He rested his forehead against mine. “You and I have that in common.”
“Oh?” I rubbed my nose against his. “How so?”
His exhale was warm against my lips. “In that moment, all you wanted to do was protect your own. You were consumed by this desire to act. I know it because I feel it every time I look at my grandmother. I’m so afraid she’ll die that sometimes I just lose myself.”
My chest tightened with emotion, and all at once I understood. That shared look of hunger in his family’s eyes stemmed from their fear of death. From the fear of losing someone they cared for with every fiber of their being. It was the same way I felt when I checked on my brothers.
“I understand.” With light fingers, I grazed the length of Orin’s jaw, then ghosted them over his lips. He pressed featherlight kisses against each finger, and a growing warmth flickered to life in the pit of my belly. I angled his mouth to mine.
He kissed me gently, his hands palming the sides of my face, and I parted my lips to let his tongue slide in. A low groan thrummed from the back of his throat. Orin tipped my head back and deepened our kiss as my entire body arched toward him.
“I’ve been waiting to do that for a week,” he said softly, keeping his mouth poised over mine.
Chills raced down my arms. “Good thing you don’t have to wait any longer.”
Before he could say anything else, I kissed him hard. I swallowed his words and gave no room for argument. He hesitated foronly a breath, and then he answered with a fire that sent pleasure racing through my veins. He wrapped his fingers in my hair and gave a heavenly tug. The only thing that mattered was the hungry scrape of his teeth against my lips, his tongue melding with mine. A heady warmth brewed between my legs, and I swear to the gods he could tell. Something fierce and wild simmered from the back of his throat, and he eased over me. His hands slipped beneath my loose, thigh-length sleeping gown, teasing the soft skin of my abdomen and the hemline of my undergarments.
“Orin,” I managed through a heavy groan.
