42. Chapter 42 #2
Silas is a heartless beast who I both love and hate for training me with such viciousness.
Every time I fell down, he’d scream at me and tell me I’d be dead right now if he were a demon.
Every time he held a blade to my throat, he’d tell me I was dead, and so was everyone else I could save by being better.
And he was right.
But I held my own. I got stronger and better. The more I reached for my magic, the more in touch I was with Sara.
But in the aftermath of our little training session, I’m beaten and bleeding to the point that I can’t control my magic.
I attempt to rift back to my room and end up outside the door instead.
I’m weak and not sure how I’ll be ready for the morning with Micah in the forest. I can’t even open the door.
I try, but my knee is badly injured, and every muscle in my body aches.
I need a minute, maybe a long minute. I turn to lean on the door, sinking down to the ground, even the idea of attempting another rift is too much. I lean my head back and shut my eyes.
The door next to mine opens, and I can feel the shift in the air.
I can smell the earthy scent of him. He curses, and I blink Micah into view to find him squatting down in front of me, his eyes so blue I could swim to blessed relief in them.
“What the hell was Silas thinking?” he murmurs. “I’m going to beat his ass.”
“No,” I say weakly. “No. I told him—I wanted—to be pushed.”
“This is beyond pushed. Let’s get you in the room.”
In my mind, I hold up my hand, but my hand doesn’t actually move. “I’m just resting.”
He reaches for me, and a moment later, I’m sitting on the edge of the bed with him kneeling in front of me. “I started you a bath. The hot water will help.” A small vial appears in his hand. “I need you to drink this.”
It’s purple and thick. “What is it?”
“It’s called nectar, made from a magical soto fruit that grows in the kingdom and promotes faster healing. Down it like a shot.”
With a shaking hand, I do as I’m told, and he takes the empty container, and it disappears. It tastes like honey, and it’s thick on my tongue. “How fast does it work?”
“It starts working fast. You’ll wake up much better tomorrow, but you need sleep for it to fully do its job. Let’s get you in that hot bath.” He stands and takes me with him, scooping me into his arms and carrying me toward the bathroom.
When he sets me down in front of a full bubble bath, my aching body is ready for relief. “I’ve got it from here,” I say, but when his arm wraps around my waist, I welcome the support.
“I got you, sweetheart.”
I’m not sure how I can ache with the pain of the damage to my body and still ache with a need for this man. “How many women do you call sweetheart?”
“Only you. Let me help you undress.”
“No,” I say, a lift to my voice I wasn’t capable of minutes before. Could the nectar be helping me already? “This is not how you’re seeing me naked for the first time, Micah.”
His eyes light up. “That statement implies you have plans for me to see you naked another time.”
“When the serpent is gone.”
“There’s no serpent in Elysium.”
“We both know that’s not true. If he’s back when we leave, he’s still inside me. He’s just bound, like my wolf was until we got here.”
“I don’t agree, but that’s a conversation for after you heal. We need to get you in the tub.”
I don’t miss his avoidance of the topic of the serpent. “I can do it.”
“I’m staying.” There’s no give to his voice. He’s made up his mind.
The truth is, I don’t want him to leave. “You have to turn your back.”
“I’ll turn my back.”
“You have to let go of me to do that.”
“I’m afraid you’ll fall.”
“I’m feeling stronger.”
He draws in a heavy breath and releases it. “Lean on the edge.”
I do as he says and lean against the edge of the clawfoot tub. Once he knows I’m steady, he turns around. I try to use my magic to undress, and it just doesn’t happen. What is wrong with me? I try to undress the human way, but I still hurt too badly.
“I don’t suppose you can use your magic to undress me? I don’t seem to have the ability right now.”
“I can,” he says. “Ready?”
“Yes. Do it.”
I blink, and I’m naked, which feels ridiculously intimate considering he used his magic, not his hands. “That must be a skill Nephilim love to possess.”
He laughs low and deep. “It’s not a negative. Are you in the water?”
“Not yet.” I rotate to the tub, and right as I’m about to step in, my knee gives out.
I yelp, and Micah is there, his arms wrapped around me, and I’m pretty sure one of my nipples is pressed to his forearm. “Micah,” I breathe out.
“I’m not looking.” He leans in close, his breath warm on my ear. “I’m also not letting you fall.” He scoops me up again and sets me in the water, my naked breasts between us in the process, but the bubbles consume my body, and the warm water is sweet bliss that has me moaning, my lashes lowering.
“Oh, God. It feels good.” My teeth scrape my lips, and my lashes lift to find Micah sitting on a stool of some sort right next to me, but there are so many bubbles, I’m hidden from his view. “I’m trying not to think about being naked in your arms.”
“I’m trying not to think about you naked in my arms.”
“Thank you for being here.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“I do,” I say softly. “Please don’t get mad at Silas. He did what I asked, and you should check on him, too. I cut him across the chest. It was kind of bad. I didn’t mean to, but I’m not as masterful with a sword as we might all prefer.”
“Silas can handle himself, and I’m not sorry that you made him feel pain. Shut your eyes and just rest a little bit, let the hot water work. There’s some soto nectar in the bubbles, too.”
“Why can’t I use my magic?”
“When we rapid-heal, our bodies put the energy toward that process. Once I gave you the soto, that process started. Stop being stubborn. Shut your eyes.”
“I’m afraid I’ll fall asleep.”
“I’ll wake you up,” he promises.
“You’re just going to sit there and stare at me?”
“With great pleasure.”
The warmth that spreads through me has nothing to do with the water.
It’s all him. I let my lashes flutter and lower, allowing the water and soto to seep through my body.
And I drift in and out of slumber. In one of my darkness moments, he comes to me.
The man with the red wings spread wide, thick feathers outlined in black.
“Where do you belong?” I swear he leans into my ear and whispers.
I gasp and open my eyes to find Micah leaning over me. “Can you stand?”
The aches in my body have faded, and I whisper, “I think so,” but my hand comes down on his face. “Micah,” I whisper.
“What is it, sweetheart?”
“This is where I belong, right?”
“Yes, Ember. This is absolutely where you belong.”
“It’s my home?”
“It’s your home.” He eases back and produces a giant towel he holds open wide. “Let me know if you feel unsteady.”
I nod and ease out of the tub, greatly improved. “I’m good,” I say, and I push to my feet, wrapping the towel around myself, but before I can even attempt to step out, Micah hauls me into his arms and sets me on the floor.
Once he’s certain I’m standing on my own two feet, he produces a silk robe and drapes it around me.
“Put your arms in,” he orders softly, and he’s so close, the comforting warmth of the water replaced by the burn of his nearness.
I slide my arms inside and let the towel fall away, and for a moment, I’m naked between us, but something about the way that winged man asked me, “Where do you belong?” rings like a warning.
Micah ties the robe in place for me. “Better?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say, always better when I’m with him, but I’m not sure the same is true of him, even if he thinks otherwise.
Micah captures my hand and leads me into the bedroom, pulling the blankets back for me. I climb under, and he tucks me in, surprised when he lies down next to me, on top of the blankets. “What are you doing?”
“Staying.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I’m staying,” he repeats.
I roll to my side to face him. “How do I fight demons if I’m destroyed by Silas?”
“We were built to kill demons, Ember. We’re the greater adversary, and you’re new to fighting.”
“We have no time.”
“We don’t need as much time as you think if you’re already cutting Silas. That wasn’t a lack of skill, it was the opposite. Silas doesn’t get cut.”
“So, I’m a badass who can’t even use her own magic now?”
“Try again.”
I laugh. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Turn my hair blue.”
“I do not want to see that. I don’t need my magic right now. I just need rest.”
He cups my face and strokes the delicate area by my temple. “Then rest.”
My hand closes over his. “Micah, I’m scared.”
“I’m scared, too.”
“How are you scared?”
“This is not a game we’re playing. It’s salvation or destruction. But we’re stronger together.”
“Are we?”
“We are.” He pulls me closer, turns me, and fits my back to his chest, the damn blanket between us, but that is not all that is between us.
Not even close. The man with the red wings is between us, too, and I don’t understand who he is or why.
And for reasons I can’t explain, I don’t ask Micah about him.