Page 112 of Ravenrose

She’s stuck here.

With me.

So she might as well go the fuck to sleep.

Irritation spreads through me the longer she holds out. Lying there, still as a statue, but I know… I know she’s awake.

Stones. This is ridiculous. War, sieges, ambushes, monsters, and somehow my greatest battle this week is seeing who falls asleep first.

A soft huff sounds from her side of the bed. She’s frustrated.

Good. So am I.

The silence stretches on until the sound of rain taps against the roof overhead. A few drops at first, then a dozen more, building into a steady rhythm.

I look up.

She does too, rolling onto her back and drawing my attention.

And for a brief moment, our eyes meet, and something between us shifts. The tension in the room eases as a silent understanding passes between the two of us.

Rowan rolls back over, keeping her back to me, but finally allowing her body to relax into the mattress. Her breath slows, and she’s out. Just like that.

Quietly, I slip from the bed to wash up myself, listening carefully for any sounds as I make quick work of it. When I return, I find the princess exactly as I left her.

The rain falls steadily, but I listen to the sound of her breathing. Slow. Steady. Until I feel myself start to fall, too. Sleep finally claiming me.

Chapter 48

ROWAN

Morning comes too fast.

Content that Ayer hates me too much to try anything, I passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow.

It was the first relatively good night in what feels like ages. No dreams, no nightmares, just blissful sleep.

A shift in the mattress beneath me pulls me back to reality. My hand immediately slides to my thigh, fingers searching for my knife, but… it’s not there.

Right. The river took it.

Frustration drags me further into consciousness, my eyes fluttering open just to find the devil himself watching me. My attention drops to the blade he’s spinning lazily between his fingers.

My blade.

I bolt upright at the sight of the familiar rose-carved dagger, and I just stand there, glaring at him.

“That’s mine.”

“I know,” he says, amusement dancing in his eyes. They’re free of shadows for once.

“You stole it.”

“I think you mean… I confiscated it.”

“Same thing.”

“Not really.”