Chapter Seventeen
My eyes were dry and sore as I pried them open, only to wince at the gentle light bouncing off the walls coated in cream silk. A soft pillow lay under my head, and luxurious cotton encased my body from the shoulders down. I was warm and content. I was…safe.
As I blinked sluggishly, realisation seeped through my bones—this was Torz’s hotel suite. I was in his bed. I’d meant to sleep on the sofa. But last night…
What happened?
Gently, I rolled over towards the wide, open doorway that segregated the bedroom from the sitting area.
My heart lurched at the sight of Torz sitting on the floor against the closed door to the bathroom, his arms hugging his legs and his forehead resting upon his knees.
His fingers wriggled through his hair as a steady trickle of anxiety bridged our bond.
“Torz?” I winced at how raspy my voice sounded, how sore my throat was.
His head shot up, his eyes locking with mine. Jumping to his feet, he was at my side in a split second. “Rems? Rems, are you…how do you feel?”
I searched his features—the deep frown, the red-rimmed and sunken eyes. The urge to reach out and touch that beautiful face, to iron out the concern etched across his pale skin, left my fingers aching with need. “I’m…I’m okay. How are you?”
“Me?” His rigid mouth creased at the corners, almost producing a smile, but it was gone in a flash as he licked his lips, his frown deepening the scar across his forehead.
“I thought…” He shook his head, sucking in a ragged breath.
“I’m glad you’re awake. The doctors were concerned you wouldn’t wake up.
Whatever Russo injected you with…it was some nasty shit. ”
Rubbing my inner arm at the injection site, I grimaced at the tender bruise blossoming there.
But regardless of the swift unconsciousness the drug had caused, no buzz or overstimulation remained.
No numbness or heightened anxiety. No monster stirring within, demanding replenishment.
I felt normal. A little groggy. Perhaps a little achy, but I was… okay.
“I thought he’d conveniently found me and gave me a strong dose of Q…to feed the addiction. Prolong the withdrawal.”
“No.” Torz sat down on the edge of the bed next to my legs. He held my gaze with a stern, no-nonsense hardness, although I felt the plea across our bond—a tentative hope for the answer to his next question. “Did you…Did you seek out another dose?
“Gods, no!” My heart sank, understanding his emotions. He suspected I’d left the suite last night to find a dealer. Of course, he did. Why wouldn’t he?
My gaze didn’t falter as I pumped an ocean of sincerity through our bond. “Please believe me,” I said as a breathless whisper. “I was fighting the urge. It was hard, but I was fighting it. I only opened the door because I thought it was you.”
His eyes widened, the muscles of his jaw slackening into a gape. “He found you here?”
“His men did, yes. He must’ve been watching you.”
“Watching us,” he mumbled, another facet of worry stirring within him.
“What did he inject me with?”
“We don’t know.” He rubbed his hands together, pensively staring at a spot on the wall behind me. “The pathologists have never seen it before. Though it appears whatever the concoction was, it’s eradicated all traces of Q in your system. Your blood tests confirmed it.”
“What?”
Torz nodded, and my mind jumbled about with more questions. In Russo’s attempt to threaten Torz, had he done me a favour? Rinsed my body of the toxic drug I stupidly reintroduced to my system after starving it for so long?
Frowning at the idea, I gently pushed myself up to sit.
“Hey, take it easy.” Torz reached for me, his fingers merely brushing my arm, shooting tingles along my skin. A swirl of dizziness came and went, and I wasn’t sure if it was caused by the blood returning to my brain too quickly or his touch.
“Really, Torz, I’m fine.”
Snapping his hands back into his lap, he softly smiled down at them. “Always the fighter.”
My heart spasmed at the comment. Hadn’t he said something similar in the wild sex dream I’d had about him? Gods, that dream had felt so real. I still remembered everything about it, from the rumble of his voice to his devilish touch, to the desire overwhelming every inch of me.
He inhaled another deep breath, and I shoved the thought away, concerned he’d felt it. But from the influx of emotion I recently experienced through the bond, I was starting to think he sensed everything and chose to ignore it.
A sad smile pulled at his lips. “You need rest, Rems. No getting out of bed. That’s an order, from a friend more than a commander.”
“What if I need to pee?” I teased.
At that, his smile widened, a genuine spark of amusement thawing his grave features. “I’ll allow you to get up to pee.”
“That’s good to know.” I smirked, only to clear my throat when I became trapped in his soft, mesmerising gaze.
His Adam’s apple bobbed before his eyes dropped the connection, then immediately stood up and headed to the open doorway. “I’m going to call the doctor.” He glanced back. “Saul will return with some food shortly. If you need anything…”
“Thank you.”
The sadness returned to his face, and for a split moment, I could’ve sworn an invisible hand reached out and stroked my cheek. A swell of warmth rose and squeezed my heart, and as Torz left to make the call, I desperately hoped that sensation had been him and not my hopeful imagination.
* * *
I slept the rest of the day, only waking to eat or when the doctor visited…or to use the bathroom.
The following day, Saul kept me company, watching films and playing cards together, under strict orders not to leave the suite or open the door to anyone.
Torz was on full alert, but it worried me how apathetic he was being about his own safety.
Still attending the government meetings and formalities that came prior to the main Debate Gala, Torz was gone for hours.
It appeared Petra, Finn, and Jak were continuing to act as Marla’s security detail, and only after Saul’s insistence that Torz reassign Finn did he place a guard as his shadow.
By the time another twenty-four hours passed, the grogginess in my head had lifted, and my body buzzed with the need to flee this luxurious prison. Idling around was not my favourite pastime, and with no offence to Saul, cabin fever was slowly biting.
After showering and dressing in my black uniform, I pinned my dark hair back, which stretched my olive skin, making the planes of my face stark. As I checked that my daggers and guns were sheathed securely on my body, I paused at the sound of Torz’s voice coming from the sitting room.
I’d hardly seen him. Saul had slept on the sofa the past two nights, and I had no idea where Torz had laid his head.
Claws of jealousy dug in deep as my mind jumped to Marla. Surely he wouldn’t have stayed with her?
Would he?
Shaking the thought away, I opened the bedroom door and marched into the sitting room. Wearing his formal Argentum uniform, Torz sat with his back to me on the sofa while Saul lounged in the single armchair across from him. Both paused, turning to me as I entered.
“Ready at your command, sir,” I said, saluting my commander.
Torz exchanged an incredulous look with Saul before rising to his feet.
“Rems…” He took a step towards me, completely disregarding my formalities. A frown pinched his brows as a smile softened his lips. “You still need rest.”
“I assure you, I’ve recovered enough. I feel fine. Besides, the last time you told me to rest up, bad things happened.”
His eyes widened, clearly sceptical about what Saul would make of my choice of words, but when I met Saul’s gaze, I saw no surprise. Deep down, I was convinced Saul knew about my struggle with Q. He always had.
“Please give me a task,” I asked, straightening my shoulders, reminding him that I was an ardent soldier who needed to be kept busy.
Torz sighed, an exhaustion haunting his face that I hadn’t noticed before. “Very well. I suppose you could tag along with me today.” He turned to Saul. “Could you reassign Finn back to Marla? I’d rather she had the extra security.”
I frowned at the comment, watching Saul head over to the suite door as he activated his comms. Why were we still guarding Marla?
Torz stepped closer, lowering his voice. “I need to find a way out of this political nightmare, Rems. If you feel up to it, I could use your help.” The severe solemnity distorting his face made him look far older than his twenty-seven years, and an onslaught of gut-wrenching guilt swamped me.
Lazing about, healing from an attack I barely remembered, I’d lost sight of how much pressure Torz was under.
He had less than two days to decide where he’d place his vote.
Whatever option he took would come with unsavoury consequences—Russo’s actions had made that abundantly clear.
But for some reason, I thought Torz would’ve worked a way out of this mess by now.
He was good at mustering schemes to elude unprecedented situations.
But it dawned on me—there was no straightforward solution, was there?
No evident path that would keep both the Purans and himself safe.
And I guessed I’d been added to that list, as well.
“He trusts you.”
My eyes shot towards the voice coming from behind Torz—to where a tall man with long silver hair sat, one leg crossed over the other, in the chair Saul had vacated not a minute ago. He quirked an eyebrow, mirth resonating there. “Trust is another facet of love.”
What the…? I gasped, blinking back the shock. When I cleared the trickery from my eyes, they confirmed no being—man nor god—was sitting in the large armchair. It was in my head. He was in my head. But, shit—that seemed too real.
“You okay?” Torz’s voice steered my gaze back to him, but my mind trawled through how many times I’d seen things recently. I thought it had been exhaustion, or stress, or simply paranoia, but this was different. Dreaming about the Damson God was one thing, but this…?
“Rems, are you well? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“No…yes, I’m fine.” Avoiding his gaze, I forced a small smile, glancing over Torz’s shoulder again, making sure no one was sitting in the chair behind him. “What were you saying?”
“The manifesto presentations are taking place today, and I…” He cleared his throat, appearing almost nervous. “I’d really like you there with me. If we can’t work a way out of this together, I don’t know what to…”
Torz rubbed his brow, revealing a vulnerability I hadn’t seen in him since we were teenagers. He was drowning, and I was suddenly concerned he was struggling to keep himself afloat.
“Torz.” I reached for him, making a conscious effort to avoid his strained wrist. “Of course I’ll help you.”
And by Gods, if there was no way out, I’d remain by his side, whatever was thrown at him.