He studies my face. “I know. It spoke to me.”
I furrow my brow. He heard the person calling me back?
“What did it say?”
“Stop,” he responds easily.
The memory of awaking in my cursed state is not total darkness, as other memories like this had been, but I remember the thing inside me recognizing him.
It wasn’t the same voice I heard.
“Your eyelids droop, Firelocks,” Vann says. His tail retrieves the blankets I’d kicked off, and he places them over me, using his hands to tuck it into my sides. After, his tail curls around my covered foot, and squeezes. “Sleep.”
It’s so comforting. I want to continue talking, but every muscle in my body is sore.
My lashes flutter, and the last thing I see before I succumb to the weight of sleep is Vann, still watching over me, his touch burned into my skin and anchoring me to the now.
I should have said thank you.
Chapter 20
ARLET
The sound of scraping draws me from a dreamless sleep. When my eyes open again, it is to the early-morning light straining through a flap of leather. A blanket is pulled up high enough to cover half of my face.
A rush of anxiety pumps through my veins, and I bring out my hands to inspect them for blood. Flipping my ungloved hands over and over, I see nothing.
They are clean, save the dirt building up under my nails.
Nothing.
My whole body relaxes at the word, yet I still feel my heartbeat in my ribs. I blink once, glimpsing blood behind my eyelids. Wringing my hands, I feel over the bumpy scars on my fingers. While the movement in those fingers is mostly normal, they always tend to be a bit colder than the rest of my hand.
Pushing up onto my side, I look around at the brown, leather tent. Cave bear leather, likely.
My brows draw together. I definitely didn’t fall asleep here. My boots are set near the front of the tent, and the rope Vann used to bind me is laid there.
I suck in a sharp breath.
Last night hasn’t faded totally. It’s shrouded in a dark red veil,but it’s there. The rage, the hunger, the way the world narrowed to the single, overwhelming need to destroy and run.
And Vann had been in my way.
Thank Endu I’d been bound, and thank Vann he’d brought me inside.
When I push out of the small dwelling, I find Vann kicking ice over the fire, the sun’s rays casting restless shadows over his face. I watch him carefully, searching for something to tell me what he’s thinking.
“Good morning,” I say gently.
He looks up, and for a moment, he stares. His silver brows pull together, and his jaw tightens, as if he’s bracing for something. Then, in two strides, he’s in front of me, kneeling to bring himself to eye level.
“You’re awake,” he says. His gaze drags over my face, searching.
“I am,” I murmur. I should be angry about last night. Maybe I am. But mostly, I’m exhausted. Tired of not understanding what’s happening to me. Tired of feeling like something inside me is twisting and pulling in ways I can’t control.
I know he wants honesty, but I don’t know if I am ready to tell him that.
His throat bobs. He exhales sharply, raking a hand through the loose hair above his braid. “Are you well?” he asks, low and rough. “Last night I tried—” He stops himself. “When I went to check on you, you were ice cold, even with the fire. I brought you inside.”