Chapter 41 – Dain #4
I was stunned. Out of everything Tywin could’ve thrown at her, this was the most brilliant leash he could’ve chosen. No cells. No shackles. No exile from her own command. A month of tedium and humiliation, wrapped in neat political optics the council would lap up.
She wasn’t happy—I saw it in the way her shoulders stiffened, the faint twitch at the corner of her mouth. But she didn’t argue.
Tywin gave a single nod and turned back to his desk.
I followed her out. The bag of evidence stayed behind, heavy with the truth she’d bled for. Her boots hit the stone in precise steps—too precise, too calm.
She hated it. But she’d take it.
And Tywin knew exactly what he was doing.
But enough of that. I wasn’t letting the night end with her walking back into an empty house.
“You’re coming back with me, Az,” I said.
She glanced over, one brow lifting. “To your place?”
“Yes,” my voice softened. “I need you, Az. I missed my friend. And I want to spend some time together before you’re swallowed by paperwork.” I tried for a grin. “You’ll be buried in it soon.”
She rolled her eyes, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at her mouth. “Tywin couldn’t have picked anything worse as a punishment, could he?”
“Nope.” I slipped my arm around her shoulders, tugging her closer.
She exhaled, long and tired, and leaned into me. Her arm slid around my waist like it had a hundred times before. “Let’s go then,” she murmured.
And for the first time all night, I felt her ease against me. Not fully healed, but here.
We shadow walked back to my place; the Undercurrent spat us out onto the porch like a secret. It was too late for anything but a hot bath, food, and sleep—especially with Azaria due at sixth bell in the administration wing.
I opened the door and let her in. “Go have a bath. I’ll make food.”
She gave me the look, wanted to argue, but her body was sagging with exhaustion. With a small huff, she disappeared down the hall.
By the time she came back, wrapped in a towel, hair damp and skin scrubbed clean of blood, a pan was hissing on the stove. Bread, stew, something hot and simple. The lavender of her soap hung in the air, and I let myself smile.
“Just go grab some of my clothes if there’s nothing in your room,” I called over my shoulder.
“You like when I wear your clothes, don’t you?” she teased with a smirk.
“Don’t get cocky. You’re still on punishment. And I told you, they look better on you.”
She slipped upstairs. Shortly after she returned in one of my loose shirts, sleeves rolled past her hands, and sat across from me. We ate quietly. No council, no corpses: just two people breaking bread. We didn’t talk about Eris or the leathers. Not yet. That conversation would come later.
By the time the plates were pushed aside and the fire had burned low, the day’s weight had crept back across her. Her shoulders slackened, her eyes dipped.
“Bed,” I said. “I’ll go clean up and join you soon.”
She stayed and finished her tea while I washed. When I was done, I followed her upstairs. She’d gone past my bedroom into the spare room that had been hers long ago, and something in me snarled awake.
No.
I stepped in and braced a hand on the wall, blocking her path. My voice came low and steady; the animal inside me paced, restless and protective.
“Nah-ah, Az,” I said. “You sleep in my bed.”
Her lips parted, startled.
“I need you in my bed, Az.” Softer now.
Her brow rose. “Uh…”
“Not like that, stars above.” I groaned. “You know what I mean.”
She laughed then, light and short. “I know what you mean. Couldn’t help myself.”
I snorted. “Come on, then.”
She slid under the covers on her usual side. I was about to climb in when she stopped me.
“Dain,” she said softly.
“What is it, Az?”
“No hiding, remember?” She gestured at my shirt.
I nodded and slid it off. The glamor fell away and my tattoos and scars came back in slow arcs.
I climbed in beside her and opened my arms. She moved closer, and I tucked the covers up around her until only her head showed.
“I’ll boil over if you wrap me up like this with you next to me,” she teased.
“I will allow you to take your arm out if you’re too warm,” I said.
She huffed, but laid her head on my shoulder.
Her hand found my chest and rested there.
I took her hand and squeezed, breathing her in.
The burning in my chest eased now that she was beside me.
I’d need to look into it properly later—was it just my body reacting, or something more tying her to me? I let the question sit.
For now, I twirled a strand of her hair in my fingers and said, “I was terrified, Az.”
She tensed a fraction.
“First the cells, then you running yourself into the ground. I understand why you did it, but I don’t want to lose you.”
“I know,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, Dain. I’m so sorry. You’ve done so much for me. I don’t deserve it.”
“You deserve it, Az.” I pressed my lips to her hair. “If there’s anyone who deserves anything she wants, it’s you. I’ll never stop saying it. You are my friend, my anchor. I love you—never forget that.”
“I love you too, Dain. Thank you.”
“Anytime. Now sleep. I’ll wake you in the morning.”
I waited until her breathing evened, until I felt her fall asleep, before I let myself drift too.