Page 34 of Sworn to the Shadow Throne

The corners of my lips twitched, and I felt a bit of humor return. “So you were naked outside?”

His jaw tightened. He was fighting a laugh too. “Yes.”

Too bad his magic hadn’t failed after Elbort was gone. I wouldn’t look at him like that when he was lying in his sickbed, but if he was up and walking around…

Stop it, Luna. I’d been alone far too long.

“Sorry, I haven’t cleaned your clothes yet,” I said, walking over to the trunk where I’d draped the clothing I’d retrieved for him. “You can wear these in the meantime.”

“Men’s clothing?” Suspicion sharpened his voice.

I rolled my eyes. “They were my father’s.”

“Oh… My apologies,” he said quietly. Then, with an almost formal air, he added, “My dirty clothing is unimportant. You’ve been very busy keeping me alive. For which I’m eternally grateful.”

“That’s very kind. Now, let me see your wound,” I said automatically. I placed the shirt and trousers next to him.

“I’m fine,” he replied, the distance in his tone settling over the room like a layer of hoarfrost.

Muffin made a snuffling sound and hopped onto the bed to sniff Rowan’s hand. Rowan went rigid. Offended by the snub, my veska hissed and leaped down.

All that did was make a wave of irritation and shame rise up my neck and face. “He wanted you to pet him!”

“I assumed we were adversaries again since the battle was won.” Rowan said it with a straight face. “I’ll make it up to him.”

“Good,” I snapped. “But you shouldn’t have come outside! You could’ve been hurt.”

Rowan exhaled a small, mirthless puff of air. For a long moment, he just stared at the far wall, jaw unclenching only to tighten again.

“I was worried about you,” he grumbled eventually. He finally lifted his gaze. And, oh, now I felt worse for snapping at him. His eyes weren’t the wild eclipse-black from before. Nor the same violet that always dragged me in. They were flat, almost gloomy.

“You shouldn’t feel responsible for me. You don’t even know me.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wondered if I was being fair. He was a Nocthel. What I was suggesting went against everything he was, down to the blood running in his veins.

He inclined his head, every inch the polite noble. “I could say the same about you. But I’m alive.”

That landed harder than any other argument would have. I wrapped my arms around myself. “I’ve dealt with worse. Always do.”

At that, Rowan’s face dropped into an expression so blank it could only have been forced. I could practically feel the fury radiating off his skin—directed straight at Selmont.

This care… It was too much. So I made an excuse and fled the cabin, letting him clean himself and change while I took care of a few things outside, regret churning in my belly the whole time.

I’d pushed him away, and he’d actually listened, even though it had clearly hurt him. I wasn’t used to people respecting my feelings anymore. Hadn’t realized how much that mattered until now.

I knocked to ensure he was ready for my return. A tendril of shadow opened the door for me. Muffin had clearly decided he was ready to forgive Rowan for the snub earlier because he scampered up onto the bed again to be close to him. Rowan had the trousers on, but he was struggling to pull my father’s old shirt over his injured side.

I teased, “Can’t use conjurations for that?”

An embarrassed frown crossed Rowan’s face, but the glimmer that had been missing from his eyes reappeared.

My heart lifted at the chance to help. I shooed Muffin away from sniffing at Rowan’s injury, and he scrambled up the series of little perches I’d nailed high on the wall for him to reach the rafters from.

I scooted close to Rowan on the bed, enjoying the simple joy of being so close. He held his arm out, and I threaded the sleeve over it. The small contact as he moved sent tiny frissons down my arms. I’d pretended it was nothing for so long, but after another little zap, I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to ask. “Are those shocks coming from your magic?”

He pulled his head through the neck opening, and his eyes met mine. Brow scrunched, lips canted to one side, he said, “I thought that was your magic…”

I shook my head. For a long moment, we were frozen, eyes locked, the only sound the soft hush of our breaths and Muffin scrambling across one rafter. Rowan’s gaze drifted, lingered on my lips, held there for three heartbeats too long before moving away.

We apologized at the same time.