Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Things had progressed too quickly. Fedra had prepared herself for all kinds of situations after coming out of stasis, but they had all been generalized, which meant she’d already thought about running into those who might detain her. The wild card was her eyesight.
It felt as if someone had suddenly released a timer, and the seconds were running out faster than her mind could come up with a plan.
Sitting idly wasn’t helping matters. She needed action.
What she wouldn’t do to be back in her valley again, running through the trees and sprinting next to the river.
The last two years of her life might have seemed dull to some, but they had been the most joyous for her.
She had found peace and contentment living out in nature.
She hadn’t been run off or beaten for being born the way she was.
Not even Sten, who’d had magic, cared that she disrupted his.
They had lived a simple life, and somewhere along the way, fell in love.
He was gone. But his soul would remain restless unless she got revenge for him and everyone who had lost their lives when the dragons came. She owed him. Out of all those who had died, he had been the only one who had shown her kindness.
Fedra shoved the covers aside too hard and hissed when it pulled her sleeve down over her burn.
She got to her feet and adjusted her shirt once more.
Then she started walking. It was six steps from the bed to the wall.
She counted as she carefully placed one foot in front of the other with her arms held out before her.
Her fingers touched stone as she took the fifth step. Then she turned to the right. There were ten steps to the next wall. Or was it twelve? It didn’t matter. She’d prepare either way. She took ten steps but still hadn’t encountered the wall. So, she walked another two and found it.
“Five and twelve,” she murmured, putting the numbers to memory.
Fedra turned to the right again and started counting her steps. She waited to touch the wall on the fifteenth step and smiled when she remembered correctly.
“Five, twelve, fifteen,” she stated.
She turned again and counted the twelve strides to the wall. Then it was another five to the bed. Instead of climbing in, she kept her leg against the mattress and slowly made her way around to the opposite side to start the process all over again.
Fedra completed two more rounds without any mistakes when she thought she heard the door creak.
She halted and listened, but she didn’t hear anyone come inside the room.
Concentrating on counting her steps while also listening was difficult.
For just a moment, she almost ripped off the bandage around her head to test her eyes, but she stopped herself in time.
She had to remember that even if her sight did return, she was using her blindness as a ruse.
She paused next to the bedside table. She was getting more comfortable moving around the outside of the room but hadn’t tested the middle yet. Before she did that, she wanted to be able to get to the door from the bed quickly, which meant she needed to know how many steps it took.
Fedra walked effortlessly from the bed to the opposite wall, but when she turned, she put her hand on the stone.
She had been counting her steps without feeling along the wall, so she didn’t know where the door was.
Which meant she had to walk slowly, counting each stride. She reached the door at step seven.
“Five, twelve, fifteen, five, seven,” she repeated.
She could walk all the way around the room again and then test getting to the door, but she was feeling good about her progress and decided to skip that step.
She put her back to the door before angling to the right, where she imagined the bed to be.
If she miscalculated, she could run into something.
There was no wall to reach for this time.
Fedra had never called herself brave. If given a choice, she always took the easy way. Anything that allowed her to be free of danger. Or at least that was how she had once been. The dragons had changed all of that. No. They had changed her.
Now, she did whatever she had to do. And it was time to be bold.
She took a deep breath and turned a little more to the right.
At the last minute, she adjusted back to the left.
Then she started walking. If it took five strides to get from her bed to the first wall, and then seven steps from there to the door, it should take her five to seven steps to reach the bed.
She slowed at four and thought five was the magic number. Then she thought maybe six. Seven. It was seven. But when she still hadn’t found the bed at eight, she turned to the right to adjust. That’s when her foot got caught on something. She pitched to the side with no way to stop herself.
Her body tensed, waiting for the impact. All of a sudden, she stopped. The first thing she noticed was the strong arm locked around her. The second thing was that her fingers were gripping fabric next to a firm chest. She must have instinctively reached out and grabbed hold as she fell.
She didn’t need her eyes to know that it was Marcus holding her. He hadn’t spoken a word, yet she knew him. Now, more than ever, she wished she could see. She wanted to look into his eyes.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
Fedra shook her head. Being this close to him again made her think of how he had walked her to the bed after her bath. She should be wary of him—of all of them—but she couldn’t seem to help herself when it came to Marcus.
She felt every muscle in his arms as they flexed to hold her. His hand was splayed at her waist, and he had somehow nestled her body tightly against his. She flattened her palms on his muscular chest.
He slowly righted her so she stood on her feet again, but when he went to release her, she said, “Wait.”
Instantly, he froze.
She had dared to cross the room alone and had nearly fallen in the process.
Oddly, it didn’t scare her away from continuing to be bold.
She smoothed her hands upward to his shoulders and then to his neck.
Fedra traced the hard line of his jaw to his cheek as his face began to take shape in her mind’s eye.
Next, she traced to his eyes and felt the flutter of his lashes as he closed his lids.
Her fingers caressed his brows and forehead before feeling the cool strands of his hair.
She traced down his nose. And then his lips.
There, she paused, his breath fanning over her fingers.
Heat infused her, mixing with the desire sliding sensuously through her body.
Her thumb brushed his bottom lip. She was about to do it again when he grasped her forearm, well away from her burn.
Fedra waited for him to say something, but he stayed silent.
She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and it was maddening.
His grip was firm, but not tight. Then, to her surprise, it loosened. He still had one arm around her, their bodies intimately close. She had always been considered tall, but his height exceeded hers. Though she couldn’t see him, she sensed his powerful body, the muscles honed and rigid.
Learning the shape of his face had allowed his image to take shape in her mind, and he was more than pleasing. One day, she would get to look upon his visage. She would discover the color of his eyes and hair. She would get to see his lips curve into a smile.
Or maybe that was all wishful thinking. She wasn’t sticking around Iron Hall. No matter what.
As if he could read her thoughts, he released her and stepped away. To her dismay, she almost reached for him again. She had always stood on her own. Even when she was with Sten, his hold had never been so devastating. Or protective.
“You were lucky I was here to catch you. You could’ve hurt yourself again,” Marcus said.
His voice moved farther away, as if he couldn’t stand to be near her. She had spilled all her secrets—well, nearly all. And they had been offended by what she’d said. It stood to reason he wouldn’t want anything to do with her.
“I have to learn,” she said. “It’s better to learn how to fall or trip in here than somewhere else.”
“Nothing Sian is doing has improved your eyes?”
The impulse to speak the truth wasn’t as strong as it had been. Still, she fought to keep the whole truth from him. “They’re getting better. Will I ever be able to see like before? I don’t know.”
“The bed is to your right. Lean to the side. You’ll feel it.”
She followed his instructions and moved until her leg pressed against it. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I didna want to bother you since you were so engrossed in counting.”
“If I hadn’t been counting, I would’ve heard you. That means I need to work on doing both.”
He paused before saying, “We willna let you harm anyone here.”
Fedra wished he were there simply to be with her, but she knew that wasn’t the case. He had returned because he wanted more from her—something she wasn’t willing to give. “All right,” she said after a pause. “I’ll believe you.”
He issued a half-laugh, half-snort. “You doona sound convincing.”
“You want something. Did you bring more incense to force me to speak the truth?”
“You figured it out. Impressive. The answer is nay. The incense is gone, and the effects should have worn off by now.”
She was immediately wary. “That makes your return even more suspicious. What do you want?”
“I want you to tell me what you left out earlier.”
Fedra had to give Marcus credit. He was cunning. She hadn’t expected this latest move of his. “I answered the questions asked of me.”
“You did, indeed. But I want to know you. I want to know who you were before…all of this.”
“And why would I tell you that?”
“Because you want to get out of here, and the only way that’s going to happen is if you convince me.”
How had she found herself backed into a corner again? Marcus wasn’t just shrewd. He was calculating. He knew just what to say to get what he wanted. Yet it was possible that she could get what she wanted, too. At least she could leave the city.
“Would you actually believe what I tell you?” she asked.
“Try me.”