Chapter Twenty-Eight
Emrys released me slowly, making certain I was settled enough before he moved about his desk. Pulling off his filthy ruined coat and dropping it onto his chair. Dislodging some books as he rummaged for something.
My limbs began to tremble again, teeth chattering as if my body was reacting to his absence. My fears threatened to return. As if sensing it, he came back, crouching before me where my feet dangled off the desk, propping my injured foot gently on his muscular thigh.
‘W-what are you doing?’ I tried to pull my foot back but that pain made my breath catch again. There was a healing kit on the ground next to his knee, his sleeves rolled up over strong forearms, ready for work.
‘Sit still,’ he commanded, unbothered by my squirming as he unlaced my boot and rolled down my stocking with the efficiency of a lady’s maid, which forced my mind to wonder just how many stockings he’d rolled down how many legs.
My face burned. His hands were cold, making me acutely aware of every single touch as my fingers curled around the wooden lip of the desk with a white-knuckled hold.
‘Are these trousers?’ His brow rose, head tipping back to see me.
‘Alma told me not to tell anyone,’ I answered weakly, hoping she wouldn’t be too cross at the state of me.
‘Scandalous.’ His grin was uneven as his gaze dropped once more to my ankle. I saw the mud speks in his hair and a streak of it on his cheek.
He assessed my leg with the efficiency of a battle surgeon. ‘This is small but deep. Did you see what cut you?’
Those dark eyes were filled with a soft patience, but all I could do was shake my head as I wrapped my arms around myself in some form of protection. A nightmare did it, but I couldn’t let those words leave me. I’d lost my mind. Somewhere in those ruins I’d gone mad.
A muscle moved in his jaw with my silence, as if it unsettled him, before he returned to focus on my leg. He worked carefully, cleansing his hands before wiping my wound with healing tonic that stung, then bandaged the injury cautiously.
The strong callous brush of his fingers against my skin raised gooseflesh, making strange forbidden emotions swoop through me. My breath became uneven for a very different reason.
‘It will need re-wrapping in a few hours,’ he continued oblivious to the torment he was causing. ‘Does it hurt?’
I shook my head.
He stood slowly, wary, as if I could bolt at any moment, then braced both hands on the desk on either side of my hips, his hair falling across his brow as he studied me.
All I could smell was beasam bark as it chased away the reek of smoke and the horrid memory of that place.
I’d never felt small; I was always too large and boisterous. I found a strange comfort in the size of him. The potency of his magic, the silent chaos of it, reminded my own it was in safe company and that none of my mistakes could hurt me here. There was a calmness between us that I hadn’t felt before as I considered the beautiful disarray of him.
His fingers brushed something off the edge of my jaw. Gentle but hesitant as if he couldn’t resist. Then he must have seen something he didn’t like, those eyes going so dark, and he retrieved a jar of healing balm and began to gently wipe it on my chin and the curve of my cheek.
So tenderly, as if he could hurt me with the barest motion.
‘You came.’ The words were so small from my lips, freezing him in place for a moment, before his thumb brushed my cheek once more, eyes gentle.
‘Of course, Croinn.’
Of course . As if there was no other option for him. That I mattered that much. Mattered enough to be found.
Forgetting myself, I reached up to brush the hair from his brow, revealing a faint trace of blood at his hairline and the beginning of a bruise. There was such a stillness in him, and I wasn’t quite certain he was breathing.
‘I got myself knocked unconscious, he said.’ A frown furrowed his brow and I traced my finger over the corner of it as if to smooth it out.
‘I won’t tell anyone,’ I tried to tease, but it came out too quiet. ‘I have something for it.’
I dropped my attention to my bag, opening it and reaching for my healing case, pulling out a fresh cotton square and bottle of tonic.
He didn’t move, considering every action of my hands like it was something profound. I let a few drops of the tonic soak into the cotton before I lightly placed my fingers underneath his chin, turning him towards the light as I dabbed at the area.
He let me fuss over him, almost sensing how much I needed my hands to stop trembling by doing something mundane.
‘You should take better care of yourself,’ I chided softly; the fact he hadn’t even seemed to notice he’d been hurt sat uneasily with me. The rich, almost intoxicating scent of him was perhaps the reason why such stupid words kept tumbling from my lips.
‘I didn’t choose to fall through the floor, Croinn.’ His response was dry and something about it caused a laugh to escape my lips. I felt my cheeks hurt with the fullness of my smile.
His stoic, serious eyes suddenly focused on my lips and then I wasn’t laughing anymore. The imposing nature of him made me want to move closer. To be made to feel safe for even the smallest moment.
‘Tell me you’re all right.’ The command was so gentle. Spoken like a confession.
‘I’m all right,’ I whispered in the small space between us, unsteady. I was overcome with the foolish urge to kiss him, and the equally foolish thought that he might kiss me back. To taste him like I’d never wanted to taste anything before.
Deep relief in those strange eyes as they shifted to a stormy grey.
He’d come looking for me. In a way nobody had before. This impossible man who still held too many secrets. Yet I found myself unable to care about any of them as my fingers curled around the collar of his ruined shirt and I pressed my lips gently against the scarred side of his cheek, feeling the rough texture of his stubble beneath the chaste kiss along with the slight tension in his jaw.
His hand came to settle at the curve of my waist, head turning the barest inch, so our noses touched. His breath was unsteady and his eyes pitch black as his full bottom lip barely brushed my own.
The strong hand at my waist curled around me to follow the line of my spine. His other hand gently cupping my jaw as my palms came to rest against the broad expanse of his chest. Feeling his warmth through the thin cotton. My breath stuttered through my lips with anticipation, as my fingers curled into his shirt.
His thumb glided across my flush-stained cheekbone with reverence before he found the curve and soft point of my ear. Following the shape as if it was something beautifully delicate.
‘Kat.’ My name sounded like a prayer from his lips, settling in some forbidden place inside of me. Warm and tempting.
Then a horrid crashing commotion echoed through the study, making him go rigid in my hold.
‘Blackthorn !’ an unfamiliar voice shouted down the hallway. Another crash drew us apart, as a cry of alarm and a beastly roar rang out. Emrys turned with a curse and strode for the study doorway with murderous intent.
I slid off the desk, lightly limping after him. The sting in my leg was nothing but a dull ache by now but still, it wasn’t happy bearing too much weight.
I rounded the door, holding onto it, and there, sprawled on the floor of the entryway, was Thean Page. Pinning them to the tiles with bared teeth stood a great beast, a manticore. The stinger of its tail hovered over its shoulder, threatening to bury itself into what appeared to be a genuinely distressed voyav.
The eyes of the beast were a familiar bright green.
‘Alma,’ I breathed, somehow both fearful and overwhelmed by the sight of her.
Her enormous head turned to consider me with irritation, as if I’d personally let the intruder in. She growled low in her throat, carefully moving off Thean, paws making the floor creak with the sheer size of her.
Thean scrambled to their feet, annoyed breaths escaping their lips. Alma turned with another growl, shifting into her tiny tabby cat form in the blink of an eye as she trotted down the hall and darted into one of the rooms. An extra little bounce in her step.
‘You better have a damn good reason for being here, Thean.’ Emrys’s tone was clipped and practically murderous, as he crossed his arms and leant back against the doorframe next to me.
‘Interrupt something, did I?’ The voyav grinned, smoothing their dark auburn hair, looking between myself and Emrys with a knowing glint in their eye.
Thankfully, there was a sharp slam before a barefoot Alma came padding back down the hall, finishing tying the belt of a threadbare and bobbled housecoat that was far too big for her, dust clinging to its shoulders. A deathly scowl on her face.
‘Maids used to be more agreeable.’ Thean grinned as they fixed their elaborate maroon jacket, with gaudy red and silver beads stitched at the shoulders. The silk frill of their shirt billowing over the collar.
‘You shouldn’t enter people’s houses unannounced !’ Alma snapped, bracing her clawed hands on her hips in warning.
‘I couldn’t agree more, Miss Darcy,’ Emrys added darkly.
‘What a fine collection of oddities you’ve acquired, Emrys,’ Thean mocked, watching Alma stiffen in response.
‘Charming,’ she sneered. ‘Why don’t I make you squeal again?’
‘I’ll squeal for you anytime, sweetheart, just as long as you have two legs next time.’ The voyav winked, leering.
Alma curled her lip with disgust, turning her attention sharply to me, finally taking both myself and Emrys in. What a sorry sight we must have been. ‘What on earth happened to you both?’
‘It’s a long story,’ Emrys replied through clenched teeth, still glaring at Thean.
‘If it doesn’t involve debauchery, save us the boredom.’ Thean sighed, folding their arms with impatience.
It had almost involved debauchery and, at that thought, the voyav’s eyes came to my flushed face, their smile devious.
‘Who is this vulgar guest and why am I burdened with his presence?’ Alma pressed, looking at Emrys expectantly, who was still too busy glaring.
‘Thean !’ William called cheerily, coming around the corner right on cue, a stack of books in his arms and a welcoming smile on his face. ‘Would you like something to drink?’
‘They’re not staying,’ Emrys said coldly.
‘Oh.’ William stopped with a frown. ‘What are you doing here then?’
‘How wonderful for you to ask, William,’ Thean practically preened, turning to address the boy. ‘I had a feeling Emrys might stumble upon something … unpleasant in the ruins and need some help.’
‘You knew something was there?’ I asked, aghast.
‘I had a sense something was off about the place.’ The voyav shrugged, but something about their smile told me it was more about playing a game with Emrys than anything else.
‘What was there?’ Alma asked, her tone short with the annoyance of not knowing something.
‘Something …’ I tried to get the words out, but that horrid feeling tightened my chest. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Miss Darcy, if you could take Miss Woodrow to her room. She needs to rest.’ Emrys’s words were curt, and he seemed to struggle to remain still as his hands formed fists at his sides.
‘With the state of her she’ll be late for this dreadful dinner,’ Alma argued, clearly not sensing the darkness that was creeping in around Emrys.
‘She isn’t going,’ he replied off-handedly, barely looking at the pair of us. ‘We found a bad collection of dark spells at the ruins.’
‘I’m perfectly fine,’ I insisted before Alma could fully process her shock at the revelation.
‘I don’t think it’s wise.’ Emrys finally turned to me, something in his tone trying to be gently persuasive, but the tightness of the words ruined the effect.
Of course, he was ashamed of how overfamiliar he’d just been and was trying to put distance between us. Through revulsion probably.
‘Neither is being anywhere near Fairfax Manor, clearly ,’ I argued, folding my arms, unbothered by the darkness of his gaze. ‘I came here to solve this. Not hide in that horrid guest room.’
‘On this one occasion I think you should seriously consider listening to me,’ he pressed, an authority to his tone that made me straighten my back.
‘I’m not the one who got knocked unconscious,’ I challenged, watching his eyes narrow in warning.
‘Don’t argue with her, Emrys, the little beast might get you,’ Thean mocked, straightening the frilled cuff of their shirt with little care. A rumbling came from deep within Alma’s chest that sounded close to a growl.
‘Kat,’ Emrys said too gently, turning me so I was closer to him. So, there was only us and his words. That worry in his dark gaze.
‘I’m fine,’ I lied. However, the sooner we solved this and left Fairfax, the better.
That was all that mattered. All that had to matter.
Sensing he’d lost the fight, he let me go, running a hand through his dark hair before he turned back to the voyav. ‘Thean, you’re coming with me.’
‘What?’ My mouth hung open in shock. After all the warnings he’d tried to give me about the voyav. ‘You can’t go back there.’
‘Worried?’ he challenged, his dark brow raised with teasing.
Of course. I’d dismissed his worry for me so why couldn’t he do the same thing? A dark amusement lay in his grey eyes, ignoring how my heartbeat quickened at the intensity of his attention.
‘ Fine . But if you leave me to attend this wretched dinner on my own, I’ll reanimate your corpse and make you regret it,’ I warned ominously, trying not to care as I turned on my still-aching leg and made a dignified exit.
‘Where is your shoe?’ Alma asked, tucking her curls behind her ears as she fell into step with me.
‘It was confiscated by an idiot .’ I took her arm, letting her lead us back to the portal and my room in Fairfax, however I was certain I heard someone laugh in response.