Chapter 25 #2
Even if he couldn’t lie, the strain and desperation in his voice is all too tangible to be mistaken.
It’s a thing I’ve come to know well over the years, hearing it in my parents’ voices as they beg the doctors for solutions they don’t have.
In my own, as I crawl toward solutions in my research that may never present themselves.
Not to mention, I then have to find a way to get them developed and in production to be of use for my brother.
It is a long game, one I am running out of time to play.
Maybe it’s a fool's hope, thinking I, one person, could really make such a difference in a career filled with barriers, red tape, and more regulation than I ever thought possible.
But it was the only path I saw…until I learned of this potential solution in Faery.
And maybe it’s because of that struggle that I say, “I know. I understand.”
Because I do. If it means saving someone you love, everyone you love, then going against your morals or risking life and limb seems like small prices to pay.
Once more, all sound of washing stills. “You don’t…think less of me?” His voice hitches.
“No, I don’t.” I shake my head with a sigh.
“Not now.” More than anything, I want to wrap him in a hug, but that would be highly inappropriate at the moment.
“At first I did,” I admit. “Before I knew you, when I only heard the outrage of the humans who had heard the tale from the Seelie. But now that I know you, that I see your plight, no, I don’t think less of you. Not at all.”
The silence stretches so long that I glance over one shoulder to make sure he hasn’t drowned.
“Elias?”
His back is still to me, but he’s well above the water line, thank goodness. “I’m glad of it,” he says, sounding wearier than ever. “I needed something good today.”
He resumes washing, leaving me squirming in my seat and far too many questions sliding through my mind.
“Why didn’t Wren’s blood work, do you think?” I ask.
Now he sighs, the sound bone-deep and weary.
“That is an answer we still seek. Perhaps we understood it wrong?” There’s a soft splash as if he moves his hand in the water.
“The instructions were carved in a stone within an old temple, but it was damaged. We’ve found other records too, however, they were more recent, possibly the writing down of an oral tradition that may not be correct.
But we’re optimistic we will find something in the place we currently are excavating. ”
“The blood is what broke the blade?” I stare at the tiny mark on my finger where I pricked it to bleed upon the seeds.
“It was after that.” There’s a soft thump as he tilts his head back on the rim of the tub.
“I tried to do too much with it too soon.” His voice deepens to a near growl.
“After the King of Fire’s brazen slaughter of my people, I led an attack on their court.
Their wards were strong, but I was able to rip a gap in them using the power of the sword.
Between that and the battle afterward, I pushed its power too far.
It has been darkened ever since, the power we managed to imbue in it muted to almost nothing.
That is what I think the Seelie wanted to know, whether my sword was still useful or not.
Whether I could destroy more of their wards and pose a threat to their courts. ”
“And now, if it seems you’re not, they’ll leave you alone?” My voice cracks a little at the end because part of me already knows the answer. I feel it in the dread tightening around my chest like a vice.
Dark laughter echoes from the tub. “Now they’ll probably try harder than ever to put an end to me, to all the Unseelie.”
He doesn’t deserve that. None of them do. Well, maybe Orek. But there are far more innocents than not here, and they deserve a chance to show that, to live in peace.
I hug my arms around myself, suddenly terribly cold, and eye the sheathed sword again. When I concentrate, I can almost hear a song. There are no words, yet it calls to me, begs something of me. The longer I listen, the more a wild idea takes root.
Before I can second-guess myself, I get up from the chair and kneel beside the sword.
It’s way heavier than I expected as I pull it into my lap, making it all the more impressive how I’d seen Elias wield it with such ease.
“Aimee?” The note of concern in his voice draws my attention. Had he been speaking? Maybe. From the corner of my eye, I notice that he’s turned around in the tub and half risen, exposing stacked abs glistening with water.
Must not get distracted. I turn away and tug the hilt of the sword, exposing a section of the blade.
The strange song grows like a humming buzz in my ears. “I just need to try this.”
“Wait!” Water sloshes. There’s the slap of skin on stone. “You could hurt yourself!”
“That’s the idea.” Before he can stop me, I run my palm lightly along the edge of the blade. Burning pain sears my skin. I jerk my hand back almost at once. “Fuck!”
Suddenly, Elias is there, kneeling just behind me. His wet hair drips onto me as he leans over my back and grabs my injured hand, turning my palm toward us.
“You cut yourself,” he says incredulously.
Blood drips from the wound, running down my arm.
“I just”—I suck in a deep, gasping breath—“thought it might…” I hiss in pain.
Elias releases my hand and scrambles away. I stare at the trail of blood before moving my hand to drip it onto the blade. Not that it seems to be doing anything but making a ghastly mess.
A moment later, he’s back. There’s no time to question him before he grabs my hand again and slathers some kind of greenish goop on it. I cry out at the stinging contact, but as quickly as the bite came, it starts to fade.
“Hold still.” He rips a towel asunder with ease, wrapping a strip of it around my hand. “This will keep the salve in place while it mends your skin.”
Whatever kind of paste it is, it’s working quickly. The burning pain eases almost at once, leaving a cool numbness flowing in its wake.
He tucks the end of the make-shift bandage in near along the back of my hand, his fingers lingering after securing the bandage. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
His other hand settles on my bare thigh, the act casual, like it’s the rim of the tub or something far less personal.
But it’s my leg—my thigh. His bare, damp palm on my skin.
The touch sets all of my nerve endings alight, every bit of my focus glued to that spot until I forcefully tear my gaze away.
“It was worth a try,” I say.
He grumbles, his chest so close that I can feel the vibration against my back.
And that’s not all. My nightdress is damp now, sticking to my skin in places, and against my lower back, there’s the firm nudge of something I dare not consider.
My entire body threatens to ignite as I sit a little straighter.
“Did it—” I swallow. Think of anything else, Aimee. Anything else. “D-did it work?”
“No.” His deep sigh tickles the back of my neck. “It feels the same. Why do something so reckless?”
“I didn’t think a little blood would hurt it.”
His hand flexes on my thigh, and I nearly leap out of my skin.
“It’s not the blade I’m worried about,” he grumbles. I’d swear he draws closer until my back is nearly pressed against his front.
“Elias.”
“Hmm?”
“You’re…” Naked. “Getting me wet.”
A surge of embarrassment has me wanting to die. Not any better, Aimee!
As if he just now realizes that, Elias bites out a sharp curse. He releases me and scrambles back all at once, grabbing the nearby towel he’s ripped a strip from as he goes.
Relief and regret mix within me in equal measure.
“My apologies.” He clears his throat. “I saw you going for the blade, and I didn’t consider my state of undress. I have covered myself.”
The sudden stiff formality of his words nearly makes me giggle. I turn halfway, catching an eyeful of bare chest. My face finds a way to heat even more.
Not covered enough.
But then he wobbles on his feet, and all thought of nudity flees.
“Elias!” I hurry to him and wedge myself under one arm again, helping to hold him up.
“It’s embarrassing, being so weak in front of you.” He groans in frustration but leans on me anyway.
“Nonsense,” I reply. “I see a king who gave all his strength for his people. That’s not weakness.”
He glances down at me, wet hair still sticking to his face. Our gazes lock. The utter vulnerability there is enough to undo me, and the soft violet glow that emanates from him says more than words ever could.
“Let’s get you some rest now,” I say. With that, I help him into the bedroom before depositing him on the edge of the bed.
He gestures weakly to his chest by the wall. “There are pants in there.”
There’s a slight widening of his eyes as he stares at me, his gaze clinging to my curves and traveling slowly downward. The look is so intense it almost feels tangible, like it’s his palms sliding over the swell of my hips or his tongue teasing my nipple where it presses against the wet fabric.
The ache in my core grows dangerous.
If only he weren’t too tired to do something about it. If he wanted to, that is, but I swear what I felt against my back when we were on the floor wasn’t a lack of interest. Far from it, despite the cold water.
All at once, he blinks, shakes his head, and stares pointedly at the floor. “There are some tunics too, that you could use as a nightdress since I’ve soiled another one.”
“Right. Yes,” I say, staring down at the sodden fabric clinging to my skin. It leaves little to the imagination.
Way to put on a show. I turn, pop open the trunk, and quickly find two items that will do. I don’t bother to leave the room to change. There’s not much left to hide. But when I turn back around, Elias is steadfastly still staring at the floor.
I bring him the pants and turn away as he sheds the towel and pulls them on. I’ve yet to turn around when he gently takes my wrist.
The Unseelie King stares up at me from where he sits on the edge of the bed in nothing but a pair of loose tan pants.
His wet hair hangs loose, a few pale strands winding their way down his chest. “Stay with me. Just let me hold you like we did in the wilds.” He glances away, color rising to his cheeks.
“It will help my magic more than sleeping alone.”
“Okay,” I respond, turning fully toward him.
It’s sweet the way he feels the need to explain himself but unnecessary.
He had me the moment he said, Stay with me .