Page 31 of Blade of the Nightking

“You are not alone,” Aedric murmured firmly, the backs of his fingers brushing my cheek. “We will do this together. We will fight, and we will win.”

His lips grazed mine, light and fleeting, before he released me and stood. He studied me, a frown creasing his brow. “You’re pale.”

“I’m fine,” I managed, though I felt anything but.

“I’m sending a healer,” he said over his shoulder as he crossed to the wardrobe and pulled it open.

I shook my head. “Please, Aedric. I’m fine. Just… tired.”

“I need to be sure,” he said, pulling on loose trousers and a plain long sleeved shirt. He slipped on a pair of clean shoes and moved toward the door. “I want to know that you healed thoroughly. I still don’t understand how you did it. It was a miracle.”

He was right. I’d been burned nearly to death, a wound inflicted by a Firstborn that should not have been survivable. My thoughts drifted to Rìan, to the moment I’d faced him, and a shiver worked its way through me.

“Aedric,” I said.

He stopped and turned back, waiting.

I wanted to tell him. To explain that I’d grasped the thread of magic Rìan had left inside me and pulled it tight, that it had somehow strengthened my own power and allowed me to heal. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to speak of the Dark Prince again, or even to think of him right now.

I swallowed.

“Yes,” I said instead. “You’re right.”

He nodded once. “You endured attacks from two different Firstborn and survived. Saerena will examine you.”

I hesitated, then blurted, “Did I hear correctly? There are… dragons?”

He regarded me for a long moment. “Unfortunately, yes. They are the ones who built Solmire and the Citadel.”

“Dragons,” I repeated faintly. “I thought you said Solmire was built by sun worshippers.”

“And who better to worship the sun,” he replied calmly, “than the creatures who can fly closest to it?”

His hand closed around the door handle. “Don’t think about that now. We’re safe here. Dragons don’t like being underground.”

He left, closing the door softly behind him.

I lay back against the bed, staring at the ceiling, my body trembling. There was something suffocating in the knowledge that we were buried miles beneath the earth.

Dragons might not like being underground.

But neither did I.

CHAPTER 7

The light rap at the door jolted me awake. I’d been so exhausted that I’d fallen asleep on top of the blankets before dressing. As the door swung open, I yanked the towel back up, clutching it tight around myself.

Hamish stepped inside, the healer close behind him—Saerena, the one who’d treated Aedric.

He was clean now, his long brown hair brushed and tied neatly back. Fresh leathers hugged his broad frame, the flame sigil of his Court emblazoned over his heart.

His gaze went to me instantly and then darted away just as fast, dropping to the floor between his boots.

“Apologies, Elowen,” Hamish muttered gruffly. “I did not expect…” His voice trailed off, the color blooming beneath his beard nearly matching the heat flooding my own face.

“Stay undressed,” Saerena said calmly as she drifted forward, her orb of light floating obediently at her side.

Hamish coughed and turned to face the wall.