CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE ISI #2
But even if he knew, he was hiding behind guards at all times. Maybe he hadn’t been to the dungeon in years.
I sat beside her on the bed, putting my arm around her back, holding her close. I couldn’t believe she was here, that I was finally with her. Alive, if ill.
She opened her mouth, then closed it, pain flickering across her features. The memory ward may still hold onto some things. I wasn’t sure I’d broken through it all.
“I have to find Fenmark.” Her voice cracked on his name.
“We’ll put together a rescue plan tomorrow.” I pulled her into a hug, hating how fragile she’d become. “Tonight, you rest.”
She clung to me, her face buried in my shoulder. When she pulled back, tears shimmered in her eyes. “I’m glad you found someone who loves you as much as I do.”
The words settled warm in my chest, pushing back some of the horror and fear. “We’ll find Fenmark. We’ll save him.”
“Thank you.”
I made sure she had everything she needed. When I finally left, she was asleep in her bed. Closing the door softly behind me, I found Trew waiting in the hallway.
We took the room across from my sister. It had a balcony overlooking an overgrown garden. I walked to the doors and opened them, stepping outside, needing air and space to think.
A garden spread below, bathed in night. Flowers bloomed despite the wasteland pressing against the wards, their petals luminous in the darkness. Beyond the sanctuary’s borders, I could see the faint shimmer of corruption, a reminder of what surrounded this small pocket of safety.
When I stepped back inside, Trew had already started filling the bath. Steam rose from the large tub in the adjacent room, carrying a floral scent. He’d stripped to the waist, and subtle stains had bled through the bandages.
I crossed to him without speaking and began unwrapping them. He stood still, letting me work, though I felt tension radiating through every muscle.
The wounds looked better than they had, no longer angry and inflamed, the edges beginning to knit together. But they were a brutal reminder of how close I’d come to losing him.
“I’m fine,” he said quietly.
“Not yet, but you will be.” I pressed my palm gently beside the worst gash. “I hate seeing you hurt.”
His hand came up to cover mine. “The feeling is painfully mutual.”
He helped me undress, each piece of clothing removed slowly, carefully.
My leather tunic and pants, then the soft under-layers until I stood bare in front of him.
His eyes tracked over me with desire and something deeper, as if he was memorizing, confirming, and claiming every bit of what was his to protect.
When his fingers found the whip scars on my back, three raised lines that would never fully fade, his touch went featherlight. He said nothing, but I felt the growl working up his throat.
We sank into the bath together, the mineral-rich water soothing aches I’d been carrying for days. Trew positioned himself behind me, pulling me back against his chest with my head resting in the hollow of his shoulder.
His hands came up to my hair, working through the tangles with patient fingers before he lathered herbal soap. When he began washing my hair, massaging my scalp in slow circles, I moaned, the sound echoing in the small room.
“Better?” His voice rumbled against my back.
“Much.”
I let myself relax into him, trusting him to hold me up, to keep me safe. His hands moved through my hair, working the soap through before carefully rinsing it clean.
When he finished, I shifted to face him, kneeling between his legs. Water sluiced off my skin as I reached for the cloth and soap, beginning to wash the blood from his wounds with gentle strokes.
Each healing mark received a kiss. The claw gouges across his abdomen, the puncture wounds in his shoulder, and the smaller cuts and bruises scattered across his skin.
“You’re spoiling me,” he whispered.
“You deserve this and more.”
His hands found my waist, stroking small circles across my skin. Steam rose between us, making his golden eyes gleam in the low light.
“I’m afraid I’ll lose you,” he said quietly, his forehead dropping to rest against mine. “Every time you put yourself in danger and every time you break another ward or face another enemy, I feel the possibility of your absence like a blade against my throat.”
I cupped his face between my palms. “I will do everything I can not to leave you.”
His arms tightened around me, pulling me flush against him. We stayed like that for a long moment, breathing together, our hearts beating steady.
Finally, when the water began to cool, he quickly washed his hair and we finished bathing. We rose and dried each other with soft towels. Trew tugged one of his tunics out of his pack and slipped it over my head. The fabric fell to mid-thigh on me, still carrying his scent.
He gripped the collar and pulled me close for a quick kiss. “My tunics look much better on you than me.”
“And here I thought I looked best without anything at all.”
“That you do.” He kissed the tip of my nose.
He pulled on loose pants but left his chest bare. I quickly treated his wounds with healing herbs and wrapped them with fresh bandages. They stood out starkly against his tanned skin.
Pherin and Gavelle had left through the balcony doors at some point and were off hunting together. Their contentment hummed through our bonds, a distant warmth that said they were safe and happy.
I followed Trew out onto the balcony, where we stood at the railing and looked out over the night garden. The stars above were clearer here than anywhere in the wasteland, brilliant points of light in the endless dark.
He eased away from the rail, his arms opening in invitation. I stepped into them, and he lifted me, settling me in his lap as he sank into one of the cushioned chairs. My head fit perfectly under his chin, my ear pressed against his chest where I could hear his heartbeat.
His arms wrapped around me, his hands splayed possessively across my body, one across my ribs, the other resting on my thigh.
“Do you think we can actually do this?” I asked into the silence. “Stop them, seal the veil, and save everyone?”
“With you? Yes.” His voice rumbled through his chest and into my ear. “Without you, the world can burn.”
I shifted in his lap to face him, straddling his thighs and gently cupping his shoulders.
“That’s not healthy,” I said softly.
His mouth curved. “I never claimed to be healthy where you’re concerned, Minx.”
Before I could respond, he brought his hand up to cup the back of my neck, holding me in place.
He leaned in slowly, his breath warm against my lips for a heartbeat before he closed the distance.
The kiss was soft, exploratory, and nothing like the fierce claiming we’d shared before.
His mouth moved against mine with a tenderness that made my chest ache, as if he was pouring every fear and promise into this single moment.
I felt the apprehension in him, the careful control he was exerting despite the fury still simmering beneath his skin. His lips parted mine, and when his tongue swept in, it was slow and thorough, tasting rather than conquering.
I framed his face with my hands, feeling the scratch of stubble against my palms and the warmth of his skin. I kissed him back with equal care.
When we finally broke apart, his forehead dropped to rest on mine, his hands still cradling my head.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I should’ve gotten you away from him sooner.”
I slid my fingers into his hair, feeling the silk of it between my fingers. “You couldn’t have known.”
“I should have.” The self-recrimination in his voice made me pull back enough to meet his eyes.
“Stop,” I said. “We’ll destroy him together. But right now, I need you here with me.”
He was quiet for a moment, his forehead still against mine, his breath slowing. Then something in his shoulders released, the rigid set of guilt softening beneath my hands.
“You’re right.” His expression shifted, the guilt giving way to hunger.
“I need you so much.” His hands slid from my neck, down my sides, finding the hem of the tunic and slipping it up and over my head, leaving me completely naked.
His palms heated my skin as they stroked upward, tracing my ribs before cupping my breasts.
Pleasure shot through me as he gently rolled my nipples, the simple touch sending flames flickering through my low belly. His eyes never left mine, watching my reaction with an intensity that made me feel exposed in the best way.
I leaned in and kissed him again, this time with all the need I’d been holding back. My mouth claimed his with desperate hunger, my tongue sweeping against his as I poured everything into the kiss. Relief that he was alive. And desire that burned hotter with every breath.
He groaned into my mouth, his hands tightening on my breasts as I ground against him. The hard length of him pressed through his pants, jutting against the apex of my thighs, and the sensation made me whimper.
His fingers found my nipples again, rolling them until I gasped against his mouth, my hips moving in restless circles against his cock.
“Isi.” My name came out half plea, half warning.
I broke the kiss just long enough to meet his gaze that smoldered with hunger. “I need you.”
Primal need flashed in his eyes. He stood, lifting me with him.
“Your wounds,” I said.
“Are…I’ll live.” His grimace told me everything.
“Put me down.”
“I don’t want to.”
“You’re stubborn.”
“I freely admit it. Let me?”
The need in his gaze was my undoing. “Be careful.”
“I will be.”
I wrapped my legs around his waist, looping my arms around his neck while his hand supported my weight beneath me, his other hand tangling in my hair.
“I’ve got you,” he rasped. “Always.”
He carried me through the balcony doors and to the bed, stripping off his pants quickly before joining me.