Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Caelian did not want to open her eyes.
At least, not yet.
She much preferred to stay in the land of dreams, where stars fell into the ocean like diamonds, and where she could wander the gardens where wishes were born.
Here, she did not feel as though she’d been crushed by a giant boulder.
Here, her muscles weren’t weak and her bones weren’t brittle.
There was a kind of serenity in this place.
The quiet didn’t drive her mad, and her lack of magic was no longer a source of agony.
But the pull to return was greater than she imagined.
It was as though someone had taken an incandescent string and wrapped it around her heart. Each gentle tug was a summons, a plea to return.
She inhaled deeply, sharply, breathing in the distant scent of something familiar. Cold pine, like that of a forest. Frozen rivers with sapphire depths. And the fresh spray of sea salt clinging to the air.
Her lashes fluttered and she gradually opened her eyes, her bleary gaze slowly coming into focus to take in her surroundings.
Caelian blinked, absorbing the warm wood walls, the glowing hearth where a fire spit and crackled, and though thick curtains were drawn at the far window, the silver light of dusk peeked through.
Somehow, she was back at Kjeld’s cabin, the same one she had discovered him in earlier, but she had no idea how she’d gotten there.
The last thing she remembered was trying to save Astrylys, then trying to save the dragon eggs, both of which had ended with someone obviously being forced to save her.
Considering her current predicament, she could only assume the worst.
Kjeld had been the one to come to her rescue.
Something he would likely hold over her head for an eternity.
Now she was sprawled in his massive bed and melting beneath a mountain of thick velvet blankets.
Easing herself up, Caelian tossed back the heavy layers of bedding, startled to find herself not only completely naked, but with bandages wrapped around her midsection and thigh.
She lightly pressed her fingers to the covered wounds, grateful to find them painless, but worried that perhaps her injuries were more severe than she thought.
Brow furrowed, she debated peeling back the bandage on her thigh to inspect it, only to catch sight of her reflection in the large wooden mirror propped against the wall closest to the bed.
A faint layer of dust covered the glass, but there was no mistaking the horrified female gazing back at her.
Caelian cringed, the tips of her fingers grazing the skin just beneath her eye.
Smudges of kohl made it appear as though she’d taken a fist to the face and lost. Her hair was a tangled mess of knots and kinks, crusted with dried blood.
Dirt was caked under her nails. She was an absolute disaster.
Wrecked and ruined. Her body ached in places she didn’t even know existed, the soreness radiating through her.
And all she wanted was a slice of moonberry pie, a glass of water, and maybe a hot bath.
“You should be resting.”
Caelian froze, her gaze darting around the room.
The rough, masculine voice floated over to her from the darkened corner, where slants of firelight played across a strong jawline and a pair of summer blue eyes.
From a wingback chair that looked entirely too small to contain his massive frame, Kjeld watched her.
His hands were curled around the arms of the chair, his knuckles bleached white, and even from the short distance between them, she could see the lines of worry creasing his brow.
“I don’t want to rest.” She snatched the sheet around her waist and clutched it to her chest, but his eyes never left her face. “I’d much prefer to bathe.”
Anything where she could sit in a tub of scalding water and soak until her flesh melted from her bones.
Kjeld unfolded himself from the chair, and it groaned in the wake of his absence. “That can be arranged.”
There was no derision in his tone. No mocking or ridicule. Instead he sounded earnest. Genuine. Like maybe he cared.
“You can help me return to House Celestine?” she asked, perking up at the thought.
“Not quite.” Kjeld moved to a cherrywood wardrobe intricately carved with poppies and vines. He pulled a large navy cotton shirt from the top shelf and grabbed a towel from the bronze hook. “There’s a washing basin here you can use.”
“Oh. Really?” It was an amusing thought, really.
To imagine this behemoth of a male soaking in a tub for the simple enjoyment of it.
If he could even fit in it. Caelian found herself wondering if he used any dried flowers, scented oils, or milks.
If not, she would have to make the most of it.
“I suppose bathing here wouldn’t be too terrible. ”
Though by the looks of it, it didn’t seem like she was going to be given an option either way.
Kjeld didn’t smile or acknowledge her pitiful attempt to lighten the mood.
Instead, he was cloaked in rigid silence, his footfalls heavy as he moved throughout the cabin gathering the supplies for her bath.
He disappeared around a corner, and she heard the sounds of rummaging along with cabinets opening and closing.
A door on the other side of the cabin slammed shut, and for a moment there was nothing but the crackling of the fire to keep her company.
But then Kjeld was muttering to himself, and the sound of rushing water filled her ears.
Caelian slid off the bed, her bare feet meeting the plush rug, and she carefully wrapped the sheet around her, tucking it beneath her arms. She tiptoed over to the opposite side of the cabin, sneaking around the corner, curious to see what this supposed washbasin looked like.
To be honest, she half expected a giant metal bucket or pail of some kind.
But what she saw instead left her near breathless.
There was Kjeld, kneeling before a standing tub of polished copper and filling it to the brim with steaming water.
Wisps of his blond hair fell loose from a few of his braids and curled near his temple.
Scruff lined his jaw, as though he hadn’t shaved in a number of days.
Strange, because the last time she saw him, she swore his face was smooth.
He grabbed a small bottle of some milky substance and poured it in, and the room instantly filled with the calming scents of vanilla and sandalwood.
She was disappointed in the lack of rose petals, but an actual milk bath more than made up for it.
He neatly set her folded towel and washcloth upon a stool, then his gaze snapped to her.
“What are you doing?” Kjeld stood, his imposing frame absorbing the space.
Caelian took a cautious step back, the hardwood cold beneath her toes. “I thought I was going to take a bath.”
“Aye, and you will, but you have no business walking around on your own.” He folded his arms over his chest, corded muscles bulging beneath his rumpled black shirt. “You want a bath, then I’ll bring you to it. You want something to eat, then I’ll get it for you.”
“You’re being absurd, Kjeld.” She twisted the sheet around her fingers. The once soft cotton suddenly felt rough and gritty, and she wanted to rip it to shreds. “I am perfectly capable of doing things on my own, I’m—”
“No, you’re not!” He boomed, so the panes of the window shuddered and the floor quaked.
Stalking toward her, he closed the distance between them in two strides until his imposing stature hovered over her.
She flinched but did not back away. Instead she rolled her shoulders back and faced his tantrum without a flicker of fear.
“You did not see what I saw! There was blood, so much blood, and it was everywhere. You were unconscious for seven days, Caelian. Seven days! You…you almost…”
His voice trailed off and he roughed a hand over his face, shoving a few pieces of his hair back.
A severe line etched across his brow, and he squeezed his eyes shut, inhaling deeply.
He finally opened them again, and there was an unfamiliar emotion banked in the endless pools of bright blue.
This time when he spoke, pain clung to every hoarse word, burning through the air like brimstone.
“You almost died.”
Fear.
That was what reflected at her from the depths of his eyes. It was fear.
“I didn’t know.” She rubbed her lips together, tugging the bottom one between her teeth as she clutched the sheet to her body. “I’m sorry, I—”
Kjeld lifted one hand to quiet her. “Please. Do not apologize for almost dying. You were only trying to help.”
Realization slammed into her, stealing her breath. “Oh sweet stars, the eggs!”
Her mind spun and whirled. She’d tried so desperately to save them, to save Astrylys, and the looming fog of failure settled over her. “I wasn’t enough, was I?”
Not fast enough.
Not strong enough.
Yet just foolish enough to think she could make a difference.
Kjeld’s arms dropped to his sides, but his hands were curled into tight fists. “Do not berate yourself, Caelian. You are enough. The eggs are safe and Astrylys lives, and all of it is because of you. Because you were fearless in the face of danger.”
“But what was it?” She shook her head, kneading the fabric of the sheet between her fingers. “I thought we banished the corrupt magic at Novalise and Asher’s wedding?”
“We can discuss that later, once you’ve rested and returned to House Celestine.” He stepped to the side, gesturing to the copper tub. “Do you…”
He paused, swallowing hard, tugging on the collar of his ivory cotton shirt.
“Do you need any assistance?”