41. Chapter 41
“Isla?”
Isla jerked awake at the sound of her name, straightening in the armchair she had apparently fallen asleep in.
By the door to the bed chamber, Lyra set down a stack of leather bound books on a nearby table, tutting under her breath.
"Why aren't you in bed? You clearly need to rest," she said.
Her tone was flat, factual, as it most often was. Which is why her sister's uncomfortable shifting caught Isla's eye immediately. She straightened, forcing the fatigue down.
"I promised you we'd talk later. It's later,” Isla said.
Lyra’s eyes seemed to trace Isla’s features, studying her as though she was some sort of map. Finally, she asked, “How’s your patient?"
"Stable. Aurelia is staying with him tonight."
Lyra cocked her head. “He mentioned that. I wasn't sure if I believed him."
Him. Vaelin. They had talked? Isla had been picturing the two of them walking to her door in an impenetrable, almost unbearable silence. “Oh?” she said.
“You’re not typically one to… delegate,” Lyra said, crossing her arms. Her eyes flashed over Isla as though she was trying to make sense of this change in behaviour.
Isla felt a stab of guilt wedge itself under her ribcage.
The criticism rang true. She’d never been very good at letting anyone help, instead taking everything on herself.
And as Oren had chided, it had only worsened since their parents had died, often leading to long nights and longer hours away from her family.
She was beginning to realize now just how much of an impact her actions had likely had on Lyra, and Cael too.
"I'm trying to get better," Isla said, swallowing. "At... letting go.”
"I can see that," Lyra said quietly, and it was bitterness, not pride, that coated her words.
The silence between them stretched awkwardly, the things left unsaid hanging heavy in the air.
Why couldn’t Isla have gotten better at letting go for Lyra?
For Cael? Why for these fae strangers? What was it about them that had finally made Isla change?
She felt the guilt weigh on her shoulders like a mantle.
Lyra exhaled sharply, tossing her head as if to shake off the moment. She looked Isla up and down, wrinkling her nose. “You’re absolutely disgusting. Come on.”
Isla’s lips twitched. She took Lyra’s outstretched hand and allowed her to lead her to the bathing chamber.
“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Isla murmured, trying and failing to stifle a yawn.
“Please,” Lyra muttered dryly, helping Isla to remove her travel-worn clothing as water filled the tub, steam rising into the air. “If you get into bed like this, we’d have to burn the sheets.”
With surprising gentleness, Lyra helped Isla lower herself into the steaming bath, more wobbly than she’d anticipated.
She winced at the heat, but almost immediately it eased her aching muscles and she sighed, sinking deeper into the water.
Isla tilted her head back as Lyra unwound her unruly hair from its knot, massaging the filth out of her hair and scalp.
“You seem older,” Isla murmured sleepily as her eyes fluttered closed.
“You noticed,” Lyra said, sarcastically.
A beat of silence passed, Lyra scrubbing and Isla hovering somewhere between awake and asleep.
“I’m sorry,” Isla said. Only a brief pause in her scrubbing betrayed any reaction from Lyra.
“I’m sorry for not paying enough attention,” Isla continued, her brow furrowing as she struggled to push away the sleep that pulled at her so insistently, the warmth of the bath lulling her closer to unconsciousness, “or… for paying too much attention, in the wrong way? I don’t know how to say it.
” Her words were slurred with exhaustion.
“It’s okay,” Lyra said softly. “We can talk more tomorrow.”
Another moment of silence passed as Lyra rinsed the soap from Isla’s hair. “So, this Vaelin,” Lyra said casually, “He seems quite taken with you.”
Isla made a non-committal noise, but felt her cheeks flush.
Lyra chuckled softly behind her. “I’m only bringing it up because I know you’re too tired to clam up. You’ve always been that way with men.”
“Gods, you make it sound like there have been droves of men,” Isla grumbled sleepily.
Lyra chuckled quietly. “Come on, before you fall asleep in the tub.”
She helped Isla to dress in the night clothes Asmarin had arranged to have brought to the bed chambers and climb into bed.
After days of sleeping outdoors, the bed felt decadent, the feather pillow beneath Isla’s head like a cloud.
The edges of her vision had already begun to darken, sleep pulling her down into blackness, when she reached for Lyra’s wrist. Her sister turned to her, brows arched in surprise.
“Stay. Please?” Isla asked, eyes heavy with sleep.
Something broke then in her sister’s expression, though Isla was too tired to decode it.
She saw Lyra nod, and allowed her eyes to fall shut, vaguely aware of her sister’s weight settling onto the bed beside her.
A smile spread across Isla’s lips, a peaceful calm washing over her as a piece of her soul knitted back together. And she slept.
Isla pulled the door shut quietly, Lyra’s sleeping form silhouetted in the early dawn light that shone through the windows of the bed chamber.
She padded down the stone corridor, eyes tracing the walls and their tall, arched ceilings.
Early morning light shone through the skylights she hadn’t noticed when they had first arrived, casting glittering beams of light throughout the hallway.
She was surprised she had still risen with the dawn, given her exhaustion. But she had slept soundly with Lyra at her side, waking with that same feeling of peace she had fallen asleep with at the sight of her sister’s face, softened in sleep.
A low, rumbling voice pulled her from her thoughts as she approached the door of the Shifter’s makeshift sick room, followed by Aurelia’s familiar voice.
The door was ajar, and Isla moved to push it open, pleased their patient had regained consciousness.
Then she froze, snatching her hand back from the door as though she’d been burned.
Her stomach turned as she took in the Shifter, now partially sitting up on the cot.
A hand flew to her throat and she stepped back, confused at her visceral reaction.
Unconscious, he had been just another patient.
But awake - and swiftly recovering by the looks of things - he looked more like the nightmarish enemy she pictured having cut down her parents in the borderlands.
She swallowed hard, taking in his appearance.
His hair fell thick to his shoulders, not matted and knotted as they had thought, but braided intricately.
And he was truly enormous, even compared to Vaelin and Evric.
His shoulders spanned nearly the entire width of the bed, and he glared at Aurelia, who stood next to him, looking supremely unbothered.
Isla lingered in the doorway, fighting to slow her pulse. The quiet voices slipped from the room and into the hallway.
“So, Draevrik of the Emberclaw,” Aurelia drawled, in a tone that made her feelings about the title clear.
“Drae,” the Shifter corrected, frowning deeply.
“Whatever,” Aurelia waved a hand dismissively. “How do you—”
“You should have left me to burn,” he growled, and Isla’s pulse jumped. It sounded like a true, animalistic growl.
Aurelia rolled her eyes. “Gods, you’re just as annoying as the rest of them.”
The Shifter - Drae - blinked, a flash of mingled surprise and confusion crossing his severe features.
“I was going to say,” Aurelia continued, undeterred, “How do you feel? You lost a lot of blood, and we had to reset your arm. Your elbow was nearly shattered.”
Drae’s lip curled in distaste as she reached for the affected arm. “Do you have any pain—”
The Shifter’s eyes flashed dangerously as he jerked upright, baring his teeth at Aurelia, “Don’t touch me.”
Isla’s chest tightened, her knuckles whitening where they gripped the doorframe. Do something, she shrieked silently to herself, but she couldn’t seem to make her body move.
Aurelia glared back at the Shifter, her lip curling as she loosed her own growl. There was no trace of fear in her features, her hand frozen where it had reached for him.
“Lie. Back,” she snapped, her voice dangerously quiet.
Isla watched as Draevrik of the Emberclaw blinked, shock rippling across his face. He sat back slowly, surveying Aurelia, as though he wasn’t quite sure what to make of her. And then he did something that made a shiver run from the back of Isla’s neck all the way to her heels. He apologized.
“Sorry,” Drae grunted. The only reaction Aurelia gave was a slight twitch of an eyebrow as he continued, “Most people react like I’m some sort of demon.”
The corner of her lips twitched slightly as she said, “Well, I guess you’re just not that scary.”
The Shifter huffed a sound of amusement, his lips curling up into a partial smirk that seemed to transform his entire face. “You’re odd,” he announced.
“And you’re rude,” Aurelia quipped. “We all have our flaws.”
Aurelia turned to the bedside table, reaching for what remained of the topical they’d used yesterday. Isla watched as Drae looked Aurelia over from head to toe. She turned back to him, raising an eyebrow.
“You look terrible,” he observed.
She frowned.
“Tired,” he clarified.
“Thanks,” she replied, flatly. “You look like shit, too.”
Shaking her head and forcing her body into movement, Isla stepped into the room, clearing her throat.
Aurelia looked up, smiling. “Right on time,” she said. “You could have slept more.”
Isla shook her head. “Your turn,” she said. “Thank you, though. So,” she swallowed, looking to the Shifter, trying not to let her anxiety show. “How are we doing this morning?”
“Not dead,” Aurelia said. “So, that’s something.”
“A glowing vote of confidence,” Drae grunted.
“I was going to check some of his dressings, replace the ones that bled through overnight,” Aurelia told Isla, ignoring him. “Don’t worry about treating the sun scald, I can fix that once I’ve rested a bit.”
“How long has he been conscious?” Isla asked.
“About an hour,” Aurelia supplied.
“One very long hour,” he deadpanned from behind her.
Aurelia smiled at Isla, “I liked him better unconscious.”
“Same,” came a voice across the room, so low it was nearly a growl.
Evric stood in the doorway, hands fisted at his sides and violence in his eyes. “Good morning, sunshine,” Aurelia said. But Isla felt some of the tension leave her at Evric’s presence.
“Oh good, a bodyguard,” Drae drawled. “Not a very good one, though, since you were in here alone with me when I woke up.”
Evric snarled, taking two quick strides forward only to be caught around the chest by Vaelin, appearing as if from nowhere.
Drae snarled back, lurching forward in his bed.
Isla backpedaled, her eyes widening as she noted the black hair - no, fur - that had begun to sprout from the Shifter’s arms. Aurelia gripped Drae’s upper arm, her delicate fingers curling around his bicep and his eyes snapped to her in shock.
Aurelia took a sharp intake of breath, her lips parting.
They held each other’s gaze, completely frozen, as though they couldn’t look away. But it wasn’t anger that shone there…
“Are you ready?” the familiar voice cut across the room.
Isla looked to where Lyra now hovered in the doorway, carrying an oil lantern, its flame flickering. Her eyes darted around the room, taking in the scene before her, expressionless.
“Asmarin sent me to fetch you all.”
Aurelia moved around the foot of the bed to Isla’s side. “Perhaps Maya can stay with him while we are otherwise occupied,” she said.
Isla opened her mouth to respond, but Lyra spoke before she got the chance to.
“No need,” Lyra said, “Asmarin said you were all required.” She tilted her chin toward Drae, “Even you.”