29. Rahzlyn #3
Tension lined his otherwise stoic face. “You don’t know—”
“You don’t know a damned thing about me either,” I fumed.
“I came down wanting to apologize for telling you to go walk yourself in the heat of a moment while also thinking you did me a favor in the council room this morning as I fought back my panic. Yet I find myself once again reminded of why I said that to you in the first place!”
When my blowing words landed, all of the air in the room seemed to have disappeared, swallowed up by our heated exchange.
Raithe’s uneven breaths ghosted my cheeks.
I was immediately reminded of how close we’d gotten, how close we remained, and how zealous I’d allowed myself to be.
Everything I’d been told to keep in check all my life burst out scalding onto this man before me.
My harshness didn’t extinguish the ire in his eyes, for they blazed even brighter.
His glyphs spanning across his shoulders, his arms, his chest all glowed so brilliantly.
The sheet covering his thighs glowed too.
Even the moon phases across his forehead illuminated.
My hands itched to touch them at this sudden display of celestiality.
They were beautiful. He was beautiful. There was no denying that, no matter what words we’d parried.
Perhaps that was why they were indeed so sharp: to mask the forbidden, one-sided attraction lurking beneath them.
The truth was I’d never spoken to anyone like that before, save for my grandmother the night she’d kicked me out after I’d lashed out at her.
The room spun. I should have known better than to speak to Raithe like that.
He was still a guardian, capable of snapping my neck like a twig, and I’d probably triggered—
My chest heaved shallowly. Black dots trickled around the edges of my vision.
I was going to vomit. Or worse, pass out.
“Basil,” I cried instinctively. He always knew what to do when this happened.
“I need my brother.” I collapsed to the floor, seeking the earth, the wind—neither of which were remotely nearby.
This was it. I was going to die in this unfamiliar place, trapped and alone.
Strong hands gripped my arms, lifting me. “Breathe.”
The command was gentle yet stern. I could do nothing else but obey.
I swayed forward until my forehead rested in the crook of his neck.
The air flowed readily from my lungs to my head and everywhere else.
I was momentarily relieved until I smelled sandalwood and musk and remembered the man I now curled into wasn’t my brother. He wasn’t even a friend.
I peeled my cheek from Raithe’s chest. Our faces remained inches apart. Raithe may as well have been a statue were it not for the continuous glowing of his eyes and glyphs.
I swallowed, but the moisture in my mouth and throat had dried up entirely. “Apologies,” I murmured.
He frowned.
“For what just happened,” I clarified, tucking a stray curl behind my ear. “Not for what I said before.”
“Ah.”
“Because I meant every word.” Even though as my anger receded, shame took its place.
“Right,” Raithe said, though something in his eyes seemed to indicate he didn’t quite believe me. “Does that happen often? The panic.”
“Lately, yes. Thank you for…” His hands still held me, rooting me in place. First I was insulting him, and now I was thanking him for telling me to breathe. I needed sleep desperately. “You didn’t have to do that, but it’s appreciated nonetheless.”
Surprise lifted his brows. A flush bloomed in his neck and crawled up to his cheeks. The fact that I was close enough to notice that reminded me our current position would appear inappropriate to anyone who walked in.
One of us needed to move. It would make sense to be me, given he was the one being tended to in an infirmary. My feet remained planted, my gaze fixated on his. What was happening?
His eyes darted between mine as if the same awareness had crept over him. We were both frozen in this suspended moment of dizzying uncertainty.
The door to the infirmary swung open. I leapt from Raithe like a coiled spring released, nearly tripping over my own feet. An older woman dressed in dark robes and feathers woven into her long locks approached with a jar. Gertah, the physician.
She smiled. “Princess—”
“Excuse me.” I didn’t spare her a glance as I fled past, cheeks flaming in frustration. I needed to get out of this room, needed to sleep and forget about this entire conversation. No, this entire situation.
Felaf grabbed a hold of me after I burst into the hallway. “Are you alright? I didn’t want to interrupt, but—”
“Yes,” I said shakily. I dragged my palm over my damp forehead. “No. I don’t know.”
She removed her glove and pressed the back of her hand to my cheek. “You’re burning up. Gertah is right inside, we should—”
“No!” I exclaimed. “I’m not going back in.” Not with him still there, no doubt still stewing from my delirium.
“Alright,” Felaf said after watching me for a moment. “Let’s find Letti.”