“I never intended for this to be the outcome,” I admitted, my voice small as I crossed my arms over my bare chest to ward off the sudden chill. I forced myself to meet the navy starlight of his eyes. “I should have confided in you, Talon.”
His expression tightened, the muscles in his jaw leaping as he fought to keep his features stoic.
“I promise you,” I pleaded, my fingers reaching out to ghost over the ink on his forearm. “I will not fail you again.”
He gave a single, curt nod, though the distance remained in his gaze.
“I will not be with you when you wake. I will be busy throughout the morning working with Bater on solidifying the border surrounding the Thrynn River. We have much to prepare.” He paused, his gaze pinning me to the stone. “I am trusting you to behave.”
My eyes teared up at the quiet dismissal. It was not crude or fueled by a need to hurt me, nor was it undeserved, but the coldness of it hurt.
“Okay,” I whispered, the word catching in my throat.
He leaned back, and the sudden rush of cool air over my sensitized skin made me shiver. I hissed as I sat up, a pulsing ache blooming between my thighs. My hand went to the small of my back, brushing away the grit and debris that had embedded into my skin.
I reached out for him, my fingers seeking the warmth of his skin one last time, but my vision began to blur. The edges of the cavern fractured, the obsidian walls splintering into jagged shards of light that pierced through the darkness. A violent dizziness took hold, making my head tilt as the world spun on its axis.
“Talon?” I cried out, my hand grasping at the air where he had been standing.
But there was no solid flesh to meet my touch. All that remained of him were fragments of black smoke, wisping through my fingers like a dying hearth. I collapsed back onto the stone, my eyes screwing shut against the blinding, flashing lights that tore through the dreamscape.
When I finally forced my lids open, the world was silent.
The air was no longer sharp with the scent of the river, but heavy with the musk of our chamber. The only light came from the pale, fungal glow peering through the fractured cavern ceiling above.
I reached out, my hand patting the mattress beside me, but the sheets were as cold as they had been when I first fell asleep. The space was empty, the pillow undisturbed.
A hollow ache settled in the center of my chest.
I pulled the blankets toward me, wrapping myself into a tight cocoon to ward off the lingering chill of the dream. I stared into the shadows, listening to the heavy breathing of Vesuva in the corner, and tried to find the path back to a sleep that would not haunt me.
34
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
The sheets were still damp with sweat when I forced myself to move. My limbs felt leaden and the ache between my thighs indicated that last night was not a typical dream.
I pushed back the heavy covers and rose.
I reached for the tunic draped across the chair and tugged it over my head, wiping at my bleary eyes as I picked up my boots. My fingers struggled with the ties, my hands still waking up from sleep.
When I finally straightened I nearly stumbled over the slick body at my feet.
“Vesuva,” I muttered, steadying myself with a hand against the wall.
One of her heads lifted with her tongue flicking in a slow testing motion. The other remained looped around my ankle like a living shackle of emerald scales.
“Let us go,” I sighed and moved toward the opening of the chamber.
I slipped through the arched threshold of my chamber and out into the winding corridor, where the morning air carried the faint scent of distant incense. A steady flow of Veythar moved through the gloom, their forms shifting like shadows against the stone.
The bustle of activity reminded me of the waking moments in Isvale, of the way the vendors would rattle their carts over the cobblestones just as the first light touched the hills.
A pang of longing tightened my throat. I had never loved the rigid structure of Haelen, but I missed the simple rhythm of my life. I missed the soil beneath my fingernails and the quiet solace of foraging in the woods. Those tasks had kept my mind occupied enough to ignore the crushing weight of living under the High Court’s oppression.
I turned away from the main hallway and stepped into the expansive courtyard.
Hundreds of Veythar moved through the space in a delicate dance of normalcy. Some worked at stalls carved directly from the living stone, while others carefully sorted bundles of silver-leafed herbs into rocky baskets.