Chapter 13
Bryon was up and at the door faster than I could register.
A few moments later, my lips curled up as Ireas and Thain entered the room together.
The latter stormed to me, hauled me up, and my breath got stuck in my lungs as he squashed me between his muscular arms. “Sweet thing, never do something like that again.”
Since my face was currently pressed into a very male chest, the only part of Ireas’ approach I noticed was his feet moving over the carpet. “You’re crushing her, Thain. Godsdammit, release her; she’s still injured.”
And my tendril agreed with the medic. If I’d considered it agitated when I’d hugged Bryon, the magic strand was downright aggressive as it lashed out, hurling its matter against the redhead over and over again—but the attacks didn’t disturb the fae much.
My smile morphed into a grin. Of course, Ireas fussed, and my smoky pet flew off the handle, even though I was enjoying the redhead’s gesture—and the pain was quite bearable. “I’m fine. Really, everything is wonderful.”
A swatting noise reached my ears, and after Thain had released me and put me back onto my seat, he rubbed his biceps. He shot an ugly glare at the tendril, then at Ireas, before flopping down on a chair.
The medic hovered in my vicinity, radiating nervous energy, as if he wanted to inspect my injuries but could tell I wouldn’t allow him.
“Sit, Ireas. No need to worry about me.”
“I’d rather do a small check-up first.”
“That’s not necessary.” Oh my, the young male had never stared that many daggers at me before, and I caved. Damn fussing fae. “After breakfast, if you insist.”
“Then eat.”
“Are you turning bossy on me too?”
Ireas blushed, and I couldn’t stop the giggle I’d tried so hard to suppress. “Sorry. It’s just—I feel responsible for my patients.”
“I know. It was a joke, Ireas.”
Relief painted his features, but before I could observe this more thoroughly, my focus was pulled back to Rewi, who was chatting and laughing with Thain. An uneasy pang took me by surprise, and I narrowed my eyes as I kept my attention glued to the two of them.
I’d warned Rewi more than once about how much of a flirt Thain was. Had she forgotten? They looked awfully comfortable together.
Thain met my gaze for a second, and I sent him a silent warning. If he hurt my best friend, I’d join Dion in his vendetta against him, and I made sure he received my unspoken message.
Rewi must have noticed my expression as well, and her lips twitched as she shook her head, her universal sign to me that I had no reason to worry. For her sake—and Thain’s—I hoped she was right.
“Your friend here is a great wingwoman, Nayana.” The redhead flashed a bright grin at me. “You won’t believe how many interesting people there are here at court. And everyone is so friendly. No one’s afraid; it’s such a delightful reversal from how it is at home.”
“And his goal is meeting as many as possible,” Rewi added.
Bryon, Ireas, and I groaned simultaneously. “Let’s change the topic. There’s no scenario in which I need to hear more about Thain meeting anyone.”
Everyone, even the redhead, laughed, and the mood stayed light. From time to time, I picked up another piece of food from my plate and ate my way through my breakfast like this.
As I finished the last slice of apple, the suite door opened again, and Dion, in all his glory, appeared in the frame.
He stopped mid-walk as he spotted us sitting at the table, laughing and talking.
His nostrils flared, and then his nose wrinkled, followed by his face morphing into one of his scowls that could kill by looks alone.
His Royal Bastardness was displeased—I noticed how his eyes roamed from me to Bryon and Thain, who had sandwiched me between them, with only a bristling strand of magic as my chaperon.
No matter how seriously the latter took its duty as a buffer, the prince still disapproved of this arrangement.
In the end, however, that was his problem, not mine.
Just as I’d decided not to grant the newcomer any more of my attention, I caught a movement from the corner of my eye—Rewi was getting up.
“Let’s go, boys,” she said and ushered Thain, Bryon, and Ireas to stand as well.
The latter protested. “I have to examine—”
“You can return later.” My friend was strict, and I wanted to object. If everyone folded to Dion’s every whim like this, I shouldn’t be surprised that he was such a dictator.
Before I could intervene, though, Rewi threw me one of her silencing glares that never failed to shut me up.
Instead, I sighed and silently observed all four hurrying out of the room, past Dion, who studied the whole scene still as a statue with his head tipped to one side.
Only a muscle in his cheek ticked, a warning sign I gladly ignored, but everyone else didn’t.
“Great. That was—fun.” I made a show of stacking my empty breakfast dishes neatly back on the tray before I got up and glowered at Dion.
“Do you enjoy the effect you have on people? That you can clear a room just by existing?” I was irritated, and the situation didn’t require a mind reader for me to notice that Dion was too.
“I didn’t say anything, did I?” He stared at me, which was an improvement from the scowl he’d worn before the others had vacated the room. Finally, he regained his ability to move and entered the suite, closing the door behind him.
My forehead wrinkled as I observed him prowling to a chaise and fluffing some pillows.
Dion took his time, his face full of concentration as if his task were most important.
After he’d finished his endeavor to his satisfaction, he caught my gaze, expectation clearly visible on his stupidly handsome face.
When I didn’t react, he directed his eyes to the pillows and then back at me before repeating the motion.
Although I huffed and raised an eyebrow, grumbling something about fussing fae, I sauntered over to the chaise. Knowing Dion, if I didn’t settle down in the nest he’d arranged and fast, his next step would involve grabbing and placing me where he wanted me to be.
So I spared myself the humiliation of being hauled around like a rag doll—where I’d sit was hardly a topic worth fighting over—lowered myself down, and admittedly, what he’d built was pretty comfortable.
But when the mothering prince tried to wrap a blanket around me, I protested. “Stop, I’m warm enough.”
The ticking muscle in Dion’s jaw returned to action, and his nose wrinkled again in disgust. At least, he dropped the blanket and instead folded his huge body next to me on the chaise.
His behavior wasn’t out of the ordinary for him, but still I could tell—maybe from the way his hands never stilled—that he was nervous.
“You can quit worrying. I’m a lot better,” I felt compelled to say.
My words were met with awkward silence, and though I wanted to be patient, Dion gave me a hard time.
Finally, he answered me.
“That bastard almost killed you.”
“But I’m alive. That’s what counts, doesn’t it?”
Dion fell silent once more, but this time, he scanned me contemplatively from head to toe, his scrutiny so intense my throat constricted. Not good.
His expression told me everything—he craved to discuss what had happened in Amalach.
Dion obviously didn’t have any idea how to start. Neither had I, so I grabbed for the only crutch I could think of—self-deprecating humor.
“Although I did my best to rectify that when I broke my promise.” Gods, that had come out less humorous than I’d imagined, and of course, Dion wasn’t amused at all, at least if I read his scowl correctly.
“Not funny.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t joke about something like that.”
“Broken promises?”
“Dying.”
His raised voice and the strained tone he’d used confirmed that my attempt at infusing a serious situation with some lighthearted comments had failed epically. I watched him take a deep breath before speaking. “I didn’t want to yell.”
I observed the male next to me. He wore his human Glamour, his gray eyes flooded with exhaustion.
The dark circles under his eyes made his glower appear even gloomier, and since I’d never seen his features marred by such obvious blemishes, I figured he was more fatigued than he let on.
Was he still in this condition because of his depleted magic, or was something else weighing him down?
“Maybe you should rest. You look exhausted.”
“Soon. After we talk.”
“Promise?”
The moment my careless question spilled from my lips, my face contorted. Speaking about making an awkward conversation even worse—asking him to vow something when my broken promise was one of the subjects of our discussion was distasteful.
But still, before I could chastise myself even more, Dion nodded, catching my gaze. “One thing, though, Nayana. Can I—”
“Can you what?”
“Hold you?”
My eyelids fluttered rapidly up and down, and my jaw twitched with the need to drop. I could have imagined many things he might ask me to consider, but this? Especially with the vulnerable expression that had crept into his eyes?
There wasn’t even a real choice to make. I couldn’t do much more than gently nod.
I let out a relieved breath when Nayana agreed to my request. We hadn’t started this conversation on the best foot, and I would have to try hard to turn this around.
From the way her forehead wrinkled as she observed my every move, she was well aware of how out of character I acted. By Kalag, asking politely if I could embrace my own Amplifier? Feeling vulnerable around someone? What kind of craziness had befallen me?
With great caution—I didn’t want to destroy the nest of pillows I’d built—I inched closer to Nayana and, taking care to be as gentle as possible, pulled her into my arms.
Somehow, that she was back and not in danger anymore hadn’t seeped into my consciousness in full yet, and maybe that was what made my insides ache with rawness and uncertainty.