CHAPTER 28
ZEPHYR
Now
“I AWOKE ON THE BED, covered by a thin, dark sheet,” Davina says.
The first signs of exhaustion are appearing on her, the rest enforced by the drug we dosed her with far from restoring.
She’s leaned back, so that her shoulders are resting against the couch.
Her lower back must have really been struggling, for I can see how the posture is straining her frame due to the bound hands.
Of course, she doesn’t let it show other than through the subtle tension in her jaw, where only an eye that’s been tuned to every single one of her movements for an entire month could catch it.
“I could hear a fire burning in the hearth somewhere behind me, warming the air and my bones. My clothes were blessedly dry and I was warm. My eyes opened to the cave’s wall in front of me, and I turned to find Zephyr sat on a chair, watching me intently.
Elbows resting on his knees, and hands laced in between them .
. .” She looks up. “Pretty much like right now.”
I make a conscious effort not to shift under her gaze.
“‘What happened?’ I asked him. My voice was hoarse, as if I hadn’t used it for hours.
“‘You fainted,’ he said. I’d gathered as much, what I wanted to know was why. It slowly came back. The uncontrollable shaking, the freezing cold . . . ‘You were hypothermic,’ Zephyr confirmed, right as I pieced it together.
“I took stock of my body. My muscles felt sore, and my mind was a bit sluggish, but otherwise, I felt fine. When I asked him how he’d managed to get me well, he shrugged and said he’d changed me into my spare clothes and tucked me into bed.”
Back then, she did a double take when I said I’d changed her. I told her I hadn’t looked any more than was necessary to get her dressed, and she’d settled for that.
I’m about to shake that, though. It’s time for her to know the whole truth—how close she really was to not making it off Keftara.
“I lied,” I say before she can continue speaking.
The very air seems to hold its breath. I feel, more than see, my own companions turning to glance at me, questions rolling off them in thick waves that press against my skin.
They know I would never take something that hasn’t been offered, so I can’t blame them for wanting to know why I did lie this time.
My eyes never leave Davina. Her nostrils flare, outrage lining her features. “What?”
My jaw tightens. I hate that she’s reached the worst possible conclusion but . . .
But nothing.
I’ve thrown her off balance, which is what I want. It’s my best chance at getting the truths I need from her. Davina’s feelings cannot be my concern.
They never should have been.
“I lied,” I repeat. She blanches, lips parting in horror. “Not like that,” I snap. “I did all I could to respect your privacy, but I didn’t merely change you.”
Her eyes narrow as she fights to piece together what I’m not saying.
My head cocks to the side. “I don’t think you understand how dire the situation was.
I did everything I could think of, and still you shivered.
Your lips were a blue so acute they were almost white.
Even unconscious, your teeth continued to chatter and I feared you’d injure yourself.
” I straighten, rubbing a hand down my face.
“I thought you would not live to see the light of day again.”
“What are you saying?” Ice meets forest across the room.
“I did more than changing you.” Her sharp intake of breath echoes around the room, but I’m not yet done. “And you probably wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t.”
Two weeks ago
Her hand trembled as she pried the cover open, and a pang of worry pierced my gut.
I shouldn’t have cared, but I didn’t like how pale she looked.
Her skin had been as cold as ice when I’d helped her up earlier.
Thinking about it, I wasn’t convinced Davina Lachlan was worth the headaches she brought along.
Liar.
The urge to cradle her in my arms was as sudden and foreign as it was unbearable. I needed to get the water warm. Fast.
Still crouching, I watched her eyes widen as they scanned the book’s pages. She tried to push her hair behind her ears, but her fingers were quivering too hard, and she gave up on it.
Concern twisted even tighter. I had no reason to care this much.
Except I did.
Dammit, I did.
I knew she was attracted to me. I’d seen it in her eyes when I’d removed my shirt to use as kindling, felt it in the thunder of her heart on the training field in Kamea.
But one of the few things I could be certain of about Davina Lachlan, was that she was too defiantly warded off to let anyone get close.
The ability to feel freely had been trained out of her.
She could not afford to show even an ounce of weakness.
So, instead of gathering her in my arms to infuse warmth into her, I stood and said the first thing that came to mind. “If you continue to shiver that hard, we risk you bringing this whole mountain atop us.”
She barely registered the words, gaze still locked to the pages.
I changed tactics. “What do you have there, Lachlan?”
She stepped to the side as I drew nearer, showing me the book. “It’s a journal.”
My brow furrowed. Her voice was raw and slurred, as if she’d somehow had a whole bottle of wine while I wasn’t looking.
Definitely not right.
Bright blue eyes met mine and the hope shining in them was bright enough to eclipse the concern for a heartbeat. “Zephyr, I think it’s the key to unravelling this whole thing.”
Only then did I process what she said.
A journal. From Sircelen.
Shit. “It’s from years ago.”
She tensed again and the tremors worsened, turning more aggressive.
Fear that she was more than merely freezing began to sink in.
But Davina Lachlan was nothing if not stubborn, so I watched as she fought past the shaking in her hands and managed to open the book around the middle.
The paper looked newer than the front, lighter in color.
She stabbed her finger at the top of the page, drawing my attention to a scribbled line.
22nd of November 1929
“This is from months ago.” A proud grin lit her whole face, and for a second, I thought maybe—just maybe—things weren’t as bad as I suspected.
With caught breath, I read the lines beneath.
In the land where the moon cries, shadows come out to play.
In the dark, light reaches the furthest corners.
Dig deeper, for not all is lost.
Weather the storm, for once and for all, the light will shine.
“Yes, but something is off,” I said, eyes narrowing on the nonsensical words. “His sentences don’t make sense.”
I turned to look at her—
My stomach dropped.
Davina’s whole jaw was shaking violently, eyelids fluttering as her eyes tried and failed to focus on me.
I reached for her. “Lachlan. Are you with me?”
Blue lips parted as if she was about to speak, but instead her eyes rolled back and she began to fall.
Her name was torn from my throat as I caught her just in time, hauling her against my chest.
She felt too light. Centurion Davina Lachlan wasn’t weak by any means, but right now she felt fragile in a way I’d never imagined. She was so, so cold. Her lips were a faint white-blue that had my heart stuttering.
She’s hypothermic, I realized too damn late.
Fuck. I should never have let myself be distracted by her smile. The shaking, the cold skin, the slurred words.
Fuckfuckfuck.
Terror clamped down on my chest like a vice. And it wasn’t the intercontinental fallout that would ensue if harm came to her that clawed at my sternum—though it should have, for that was no small thing.
It all paled in comparison with . . . Would a world in which Davina Lachlan did not exist be a world worth living in?
Worth fighting for?
And even though I didn’t really know her, nor should I have cared about what happened to her, I’d seen enough of her relentless spark to know I wouldn’t let it go extinct.
I struggled to change my hold on her, bringing two fingers to her neck to check for a pulse—there it was. Faint but steady. Slipping one arm beneath her legs, I lifted her fully into my arms, drowning thoughts of how damn fragile she felt against me.
Carefully, I set her on the lone chair pushed against the wall, making sure she wouldn’t slide off before hurrying to the hearth. Lukewarm water met my fingers when I dipped them into the basin. Not what I’d wanted, but probably for the best now that warmer water could do more harm than good.
Ideally, I’d get her out of her wet clothes, into dry ones, wrap her in every blanket we had and pray. But there were no proper blankets, just thin sheets from the bed and our sleeping bags, and it wasn’t enough.
Plus there was no time. Her lips had gone white.
I hoisted the basin again. It felt lighter this time, and I knew I owed the adrenaline rushing through my veins for that.
I moved fast, pouring the water into the shallow pool-tub.
Less than half of it was filled, but it’d have to be enough.
I dipped my hand in the liquid, testing that it still was more tepid than warm one last time before I returned to Davina.
Her clothes were soaked through, icy to the touch.
I debated for all of half a second before accepting they had to go.
Quickly, but with as much care as I could manage, I peeled off her pants, then her socks and boots. Keeping my eyes focused on what I deemed safe skin—arms, calves, neck—I took off her jacket, vest, and shirt, leaving her in the narrow band covering her chest and the thin strip between her legs.
It’d have to be enough.
Her hair tickled my neck when I scooped her back into my arms, but I ignored the itch. The whimper that escaped her when her glacial skin came in contact with the water tore at my heart. Tepid or not, it must have felt like fire to her.
“Shhh,” I soothed, lowering her in as slowly as I could. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.
As soon as she was settled, I moved away, readying to wait while her body slowly warmed up.
Seconds later, she began to thrash, limbs jerking against the stone. My jaw tightened. I couldn’t hold her steady and keep her safe from knocking her skull.
Not unless . . .
I considered it for all of ten seconds. Ten seconds of Davina’s heels hitting stone, her hands, shoulders—
Fuck it.
My brain shut down, instinct taking the reins as I stripped, leaving only my underclothes.
In a blink, I was in the water. Behind her, under her.
The temperature of the water felt hot against my own chilled skin as I sank into it.
Gritting my teeth against the sear, I couldn’t even begin to imagine what the water must have felt for her.
She was a goddamn block of ice against me.
Davina whimpered again, and I whispered soothing words against her ear out of reflex. My arms wrapped around her, gently but firmly, locking her thighs between mine to stop the trembling, pressing her head against my shoulder and tucking it beneath my chin.
And then I held on.
For minutes or hours, I held onto Davina like she didn’t have the power to destroy everything I cared about. Like my godsdamned life depended on it.
I held on until my body heated with the water, and until that heat slowly seeped into her.
Until her convulsions dimmed, then stopped, and her body relaxed against mine.
Until her breathing slowed and I felt the timid strength of her heartbeat against my chest.
Throughout, I never stopped whispering soothing, encouraging words at her.
She was going to get well. She had to be strong in order to challenge me and make my life difficult. To keep it interesting. She had to get well for me to be able to one day understand the workings of her brilliant mind.
When color finally bloomed across her lips and cheeks again, and I felt the water leaning more towards cold than tepid, I dragged her out from the pool-tub.
It was effortless to lift her, her body now blissfully limp against mine.
I stripped the last of her soaked clothes in haste, keeping my gaze averted.
The spare clothes from her bag were too thin, but I forced them onto her anyway, as gently as I could.
Then I brought her to the narrow cot, and only when the sheet was pulled over her did I finally inhale a full breath.
She’d be fine.
It took seconds for me to dry and slide the spare garments on, but when I returned my attention to Davina, I noticed her breaths were once more shaky.
She still wasn’t warm enough.
My mind just blanked as I slipped into the narrow cot behind her, instinct taking over again as I tucked her into my chest, giving her every scrap of heat I had to offer.
Her soft curves fit against me like we were two pieces of a puzzle. Like we were made for this.
Do not. Think. Like that.
I couldn’t afford it. The only thing I allowed myself to feel was the steady, pulsing comfort of her heartbeat against my ribs.
When her next breath was slow and steady, I relaxed.
She’d be fine.
. . .
Mine.