Chapter 18 #2
The wither isn’t something people speak of in the capital.
It is a shadow lurking at the edges of the world, beyond the concerns of those who live in the light of the flame.
While I have no doubt my father knows how bold the lords of death have become, I wonder what the soft people of the capital, living in their eternal summer, would think if they knew they were active to this level.
Would they demand action from their emperor, or would they return their attention to brighter things?
Alaris doesn’t leave me where he found me. Instead, we slow to a stop in sight of the castle gates, crossing the distance it took me hours to walk in a fraction of the time.
I’m back where I started. I didn’t figure out a way to flee the castle. I only learned how dangerous being this far shadoward is. Which means another sleepless night, wondering how long I’ll be safe here.
He dismounts first, then helps me down, and hands me my bag. I sling it on and wince, the knots pulsing a reminder that they are still there. The wither distracted me from it, briefly, but the ache is now hot, radiating up my neck and down between my shoulder blades.
I glance up to find Alaris watching me.
“Are you injured?” he asks, his gaze searching mine.
“No, I’m fine,” I answer quickly. “Just stiff from the ride.”
His attention doesn’t waver, his eyes roving over my body. “A ride that short shouldn’t cause you pain.”
I shrug, which proves to be a mistake, as the burning in my neck flares at the base of my skull. Ugh. This is going to turn into a throbbing headache by tonight. “Excuse me.”
I move to step around him, but he places a hand at the juncture between my neck and my shoulders. He presses ever so slightly, and I can’t help but grit my teeth. He takes my pack off me and whirls me around, examining my back with careful fingers.
Even his gentle prodding makes my breath catch. I can hear the surprise in his voice. “Have you been rebuilding the aviary every night, brick by brick?”
His fingers find the worst spot on my shoulder and press. Agony pulses through me, sharp enough to make me gasp. But as he holds, the tightness that’s been coiled there for days starts to give. The relief is so acute it’s just as overwhelming as the pain.
I make a soft sound, then catch myself.
“Stop, stop,” I gasp, stumbling away from him.
He lets go easily. “Too much?”
I shake my head. “This isn’t necessary.”
“Such a liar, Ly. You’re in pain. You’ve been holding your shoulders at your ears for weeks.”
I can only imagine he’s experienced at massages because they warm up to other things. A blush creeps up my neck. “It’s not appropriate.”
Understanding dawns in his eyes. “It’s not sexual.” His hands drop to his sides. “I spent a long time caring for someone who couldn’t leave their bed. I studied anatomy to help ease their suffering.”
The words don’t carry any of his usual wicked humor. His expression is almost…sad.
I want to ask what happened to them, but I hold my tongue. “I see.”
“If I thought the healers could do any better, I would send you there,” he says, his hands reaching toward me slowly. “It seemed like pressure helped. Will you let me help?”
My shoulders are screaming. Even one brief touch promised the relief my body is desperate for. “Fine, but…” I glance up at the guard tower. I don’t know if it’s occupied, but I don’t want anyone watching this.
He follows my eyes. “Ah.” He gestures toward the tree line. “If an audience is your concern, I can fix that too.”
I follow him off the path. He puts his back against a large tree and gestures me in front of him. I undo the tie of my cloak, heart pounding in my fingertips as I slide it off and let it fall to the ground. I step into position.
“No one can see us now,” he says. His hands rest gently on my shoulders, tingles radiating from his touch. “Now, may I?”
I’m already glad he can’t see my face. I take in a shuddering breath and nod.
His fingers find the tight muscles at the base of my neck, testing at first, then circling.
The contact deepens from gentle to firm, coaxing rather than demanding.
Each fingertip works into the heat beneath my skin, drawing out the soreness until it softens into something looser, lighter.
My breath stutters, and I clench my jaw to keep from making sounds.
His thumbs knead along the curve of my shoulders, unraveling the knots gathered there. His fingers trail down my spine, seeking out every tense point with unhurried patience. A soft “Ha!” escapes me as they sink into the small of my back, finding tight spots I didn’t even know were there.
“That’s it,” he murmurs, his deep voice humming in my ear. “Breathe.”
He works his way back up. This time the pressure on my shoulders is relentless, the intensity so overwhelming, I stumble.
I lean against his chest for balance, but I’m too entranced to care.
I close my eyes, and my awareness of the forest dims. His touch claims all my attention, the quiet heat of his breath stirring the fine hairs on the top of my head.
He puts one large palm on the back of my neck and squeezes, and I’m gone.
My weight shifts, melting further into him.
His body is steady, solid, anchoring me.
As he grips where my skull meets my spine, I am nothing but sensation.
It’s like a hand has wrapped around my brain and held it still.
My thoughts go silent for the first time in longer than I can remember.
His fingers loosen, and I almost beg him to continue, but I lose the words as he strokes my arms down to my wrists, leaving a trail of calming tingles, then lets go.
My breathing is slow, my limbs heavy and boneless.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I should pull away and find my footing again.
But swaying against him, I can’t quite remember why.
His deep voice rouses me from my haze as he grunts. “Ly…”
Awareness returns to my body. I am writhing slowly against something hard. My eyes fly open. I should stop. But wicked heat sparks through me, and wicked thoughts come with it. I shift my weight and arch my back, like I’m just stretching out the last knot. One slow, deliberate press…
Yep. He was so composed after our ride, but I’m not the only one who feels something when we’re close. I can’t stop a satisfied smile from growing on my face.
I don’t want to be the only one who’s flustered. I want his composure to break. I want to see fire behind his eyes instead of steady calm. If I can just…
He stiffens. Then in a whirl, he flips us both around, so I’m facing the tree and he’s behind me. He holds both my wrists in one hand above my head, cupping my cheek to guard it from the rough bark that scrapes my chest through my dress.
His voice is low and dangerous in my ear. “I need you to reconsider whatever you were about to do.”
“I wasn’t about to do anything,” I breathe. I’m practically dangling by my wrists. I instinctively arch to see how far apart we are…