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I snorted, the last of my resistance crumbling. ‘Flatterer.’
He scooped me into his arms in response, cradling me against his hard chest so effortlessly I didn’t even have time to squeak. His arms under my knees and back were a cage – a strong, safe cage, coaxing my weary limbs to let go, to leave the books on the reading table and focus on nothing but the slow pulse of his heart below his ribs and the warmth of his breath as he bent to kiss my forehead.
Dangerous surrender … but my breath hitched and my body slumped in his hold.
Tucking in his wings, he navigated easily through the maze of bookcases and slipped out of the room without even the slightest creak of the hinges, through the deserted main hall and out of the library’s front door. Into the public parts of the Underground, where only the dim alf lights in the corners kept the deepest of darkness at bay.
He never made a sound. Even carrying my added weight, his feet padded across the stone quietly like cat’s paws, moving us from shadow to shadow with an ease that bordered on instinct. Safely in his arms, resting my tired head against his chest, it seemed I was floating along on wisps of darkness, as invisible as an evening breeze. A few dozen feet away, a rowdy group of alves crossed our path. A vampire sauntered past, a trail of goat blood dripping over his chin. None of them noticed us. Had we meant them any harm, they wouldn’t have found out until Creon’s knives already lay between their ribs.
Even here, surrounded by allies in the relative safety of the Underground, this would always be his most familiar role to play – a lone hunter, prowling through the night, owing obedience to no queen or crown.
He carried me until we reached the rune-covered front door of the Skeire family home, then set me on my feet and pulled out the key Tared had grudgingly given him on our return to the Underground three months ago. The living room was dark when we slipped inside, Beyla’s maps and Lyn’s books on the table evidence that I hadn't been the only one preparing for tomorrow’s gathering. Nothing moved in the shadows, yet the ever-present threat of alf appearances had me tiptoeing a safe three feet behind Creon until we reached his room.
I moved to follow him only after a few wary glances over my shoulder. As far as I was aware, Lyn was still the only one who knew where I spent my nights – and if I wanted to have any chance at getting them where I needed them tomorrow, this would be the worst possible moment for the others to find out.
Em, Creon signed, eyes locked on my face.Stop panicking.
‘I’m not panicking,’ I whispered, throat clenching tight. ‘It would just be damn inconvenient for Edored to fade by while I’m eating your face off.’
I can guarantee you he’s seen worse in his life.His stance was so deceptively nonchalant, leaning against the wall, wings lying loosely over his back. His smile was so close to convincing. But he signed the words too quickly, and we’d had this conversation too many times before for me to believe it truly left him indifferent.One day they’ll figure it out anyway. Waiting is not going to make it any better.
‘But it might!’ That, too, I’d said before – pleaded with him to understand. So much could change between now and the next few months. We’d have this mad mission behind us, or else we’d have given up on it entirely. Our allies might trust him better. They might develop a little more faith in my good sense.
We might have this entire damn war behind us, and then at least the fate of the world would no longer rest on my annoyingly thin shoulders.
His own shoulders tightened as he watched me, knowing the line of my thoughts without a word from my lips. They hated him anyway, he’d said. Couldn’t we at the very least stop making things so damn complicated for ourselves, if the rest of the world was already happy enough to complicate life for us?
I didn’t want to think about this now. Not with the next morning looming like an unmovable boulder on the edges of my mind.
‘Shouldn’t we just go to sleep?’ I breathed. ‘You wanted me to get my night’s rest. There’ll be better moments to talk about all of this.’
He sighed. But he held the door for me.
The room behind was soothingly familiar, a mixture of nondescript Underground architecture, alf furnishings, and brand new traces of fae magic. Most of the furniture had remained unchanged since our arrival months ago, rough wood and fabrics. The alf lights had vanished, though, and in their place, a serene glow now spread from behind the stained glass Creon had embedded in the ceiling vaults, drowning the room in smoky hues of indigo and dove grey. An impressive arsenal of weapons lay meticulously ordered in one corner; the desk and armchairs were besieged by the piles of books and scrolls we’d studied over the past weeks.
I swallowed another lump of nervousness. All that work, and it may just be for nothing.
Creon didn’t immediately react as the feeling struck – another recent change. His shields were still up, then – up and strong enough to keep me out from such a small distance. On this occasion, it saved me for only a heartbeat or two: the moment he shut the door and turned back to me, his eyes narrowed at the tension on my face.
Still not convinced by the bottomless well of my wisdom?he signed.
I huffed a laugh. ‘That same bottomless well which made you decide to go to training with Edored, of all people?’
Matter of precaution.He shrugged as he brushed past me and began unbuttoning his shirt with his left hand, fingers moving so fast it seemed the lines of ink were shifting under his skin.Don’t think he’ll be at the meeting tomorrow.
I stared at him.
He casually continued loosening his shirt at the front, then below his wings, and shrugged the dark cloth off his shoulders. Most days, the reveal of sinfully sculpted chest would be enough to distract me from the discussion at hand, but my lingering panic and the sense of alarm inherent in anything involving Edored momentarily blinded me to the taut ridges of ink-marred muscle.
‘What?’
I’m not letting you do all the work, he dryly added as he flung the shirt over the nearest armchair.
‘You …’ I sucked in a baffled breath. ‘You got him to challenge you at training … so you could … do what? Bash his head in?’
He raised a scarred eyebrow, amused.I’m more subtle than that.
‘So you could wound him subtly but unpleasantly,’ I corrected myself, understanding dawning as I spoke the words, ‘so that he’ll drink too much to numb the sting as usual, so that he’ll sleep too deep and wake too late tomorrow? Good gods, Creon.’
