Chapter 24
T he door banging open jerks me from sleep. I jolt up in bed, staring through sleep-blurred eyes toward the dark, shadowy figure looming in the threshold. A scream climbs my throat, about to spill free, when Vada bolts from the chair near the bed where she’d been resting and hastens into a bow.
“My king,” she says.
“Kallan?” My heart thunders. With his full black armor, he really does look like an angel of death. His imposing figure leans heavily on the doorframe. The hand that had shoved open the door slides limply from its surface, leaving a stain in its wake. “Kallan!”
I throw back the coverings and leap from the bed, hurrying barefoot across the room toward him.
Vada gets there before me. “My king, what’s happened?”
“We are victorious for now but not without cost.” His voice is strained, thin.
“This blood—” Vada begins, withdrawing her hand from his armor and the deep shade that now coats her fingers.
“Not mine.”
I let out a sigh. “Thank God.”
If they find my exclamation strange, neither comments on it.
“I should still check you to make sure,” Vada says.
He groans, pushing himself off the doorframe. “No, there are others who need your skills more than I do.”
I barely hear the soft intake of breath, but the way Vada’s wings fall limp behind her speaks volumes on its own.
“Katiya?” she asks.
Oh no. My body chills at the thought of her coming to harm.
“Safe,” he says.
Vada and I let out a collective sigh.
“If you’re sure, I will go at once,” she says.
“I am,” he confirms. She moves to leave, but he raises a hand. “Thank you for protecting Aimee.”
“It was my honor.” And then she hurries down the hall, leaving me alone with a blood-soaked Unseelie King.
Two weeks ago, I would have called that a nightmare. Now, my heart just aches for what he must have seen, done, and endured. Kallan—Elias, I correct myself, he asked me to call him Elias—watches the healer leave before turning back to me.
I wear nothing more than a shift-like nightgown, an outfit he’s seen me in before, but with him in full armor, I’m reminded of how little I’m wearing. I adjust my weight from one foot to the other, suddenly awkward and unsure.
Elias removes his helm. His normally flowing white hair is pulled back and slicked with sweat. A few haphazard pieces have escaped their tie and cling to his drawn face.
I twist my hands together in front of me. “Is there anything I can do to—”
He slumps against the threshold, sliding down it a few inches.
“Elias!” I lunge for him, wedging my shoulder in the crook of his armpit to hold him upright. “You’re not okay. What’s wrong? I should go after Vada and—”
“No.” His other arm wraps around me, holding me close and preventing me from fleeing.
“But you’re—”
“Tired,” he responds in a breathy exhale.
“I used the last of my magic to bring some of our injured back here.” His head settles against mine with a sigh, almost like it took too much strength just to keep holding it up.
The tangs of sweat and blood overpower his usually pleasant scent, and I’m glad my stomach is mostly empty.
“What can I do?” I lean against the wall, wary of becoming unbalanced and sending us both tumbling to the stone floor.
“Stay close to me,” he mumbles against my hair. “Your presence heals my magic. And perhaps…” He trails off, going still for a moment before continuing. “Would you help me to the bath?”
“Of course.” There’s little I would not do to help him in this moment.
We hobble a few short steps to the bathing room that lies just outside his bedroom. It’s a luxury, having a private bathroom, I’ve come to learn in my few days here. One of the few that the king has allowed himself in this city.
With Elias’s instruction, I help him remove his complex armor then the clothing he wears underneath. Blood and dirt mar my hands and clothes, but I ignore it. Just as I attempt to staunchly ignore the swaths of muscular, lightly tanned skin that are unveiled as he sheds his tunic.
Attempt being the keyword.
It’s impossible to completely dismiss the sculpted muscles of his arms, shoulders, and torso.
Or not to notice the surprising lack of hair on his body, despite him having a furry tail and ears, and long human-like hair on his head.
I kind of thought the rest of him might be furry too. But no, he looks shockingly human.
Just a patient . His is far from the first naked body I’ve seen. Between my medical studies and past lovers, I’ve seen the gamut of figures. However, I’d be hard pressed to declare any quite as fine as his.
Not that I’m supposed to be thinking about him that way right now when he needs my help. After all, this isn’t about pleasure. He’s hardly looked at me, seeming mostly in a daze and only half here. Exhaustion or trauma, who can say? Maybe both.
When only his pants are left, I turn away and focus my attention on drawing a bath. The Unseelie plumbing works a good bit like ours, save one important detail: heat.
The tub is carved out of the stone itself, and despite its size, it fills rather quickly from the opening on the wall. I hastily wash my hands in the torrent of water before stoppering the tub. Behind me, the scrape of a chair and ruffle of fabric as Elias stands and sheds the rest of his clothing.
I resolutely refuse to look, despite my curiosity about whether a certain part of him is as impressive as the rest.
It probably is. That thought alone has my belly fluttering, and I chide myself for indulging my imagination at such a time.
“Do you need help getting in?” I ask, still refusing to turn around.
“I believe I can manage.” His voice rumbles just behind me, causing me to suck in a breath and stand a little straighter. I can almost feel the warmth of his presence soaking through my nightgown.
“You could barely stand in the hall,” I point out. “It would be a tragedy if you fell and hit your head and died getting into the bath.”
The light chuckle that fills the quiet has heat building in my core.
“That would be a tragedy indeed. But your presence has already helped me.” There’s a slight tug against the back of my head, almost like he grazed my hair with a clawed finger.
“That’s why I came straight here after I shifted us back to the honing point. ”
“Ah, and here I thought you were just worried about me,” I tease.
There’s a soft splash as he climbs into the half-full tub. “That too.”
My fingers flex on the stone rim where I grip it behind me, leaning back on the edge. My face warms as if this bath is steamy, but I know it’s not.
“Me being a human really has that much of an effect on you?” I ask, shifting back to safer waters.
“It does.”
I shake my head. “It’s so strange how your magic works and how humans affect it.”
“It is,” he agrees. “But it makes me all the more grateful for your presence here. Without you, without being near you these past days, I’m not sure I would have had the strength to push back the attack on our outpost and drive the Seelie away.
They’ve been doing little raids along our borders for months now, likely testing our defenses and reaction, but this was more aggressive. ”
“Why?” I ask into his pause.
There’s more soft sloshing as he turns off the flow of water and settles into the tub. “I think they were curious about something.” His voice darkens. “Unfortunately, I may have given them their answer.”
Drawn by the vague comment, I turn, only belatedly realizing why that’s a terrible idea. My eyes widen as they catch on his naked chest, the water just below his pecs and clear enough to disguise nothing. His arms are slung along the rim on either side, head tilted back and eyes closed.
It’s a sinfully decadent image without peering into the water, something I manage to avoid before whipping back around.
My gaze drops into my lap, and I grimace at the stains that now adorn my nightdress. “I should go change. I’m sure you’d like some privacy anyway.”
I only make it one step before he calls out, “Wait!”
Water splashes as if he lurched in the tub.
I do, freezing in place, but not turning.
“When you’re done, come back. Please.” More splashing. “I— It helps me to have you near.”
Ah, that’s right. I suppose power is far more valuable than privacy. “I will.”