With a sigh, Elyria turned away from him and attempted to walk away. Cedric reached out, wrapping his fingers around her unbandaged wrist with a featherlight touch. The instant his skin made contact with hers, he felt that weight in his chest settle, the ache dispersing like steam evaporating into temperate air.
With the gentlest pressure, he pulled her back. She complied, turning to sit on the bench once more, apprehension painted all over her perfect features.
She looked as lost as he felt.
He opened his mouth to say something, but once again, the words were stuck just behind his tongue.
“I need to check your bandage.” Zephyr’s soft voice fell over the pair, and Cedric tore his eyes from Elyria’s face to where the sylvan now stood in front of them, shifting awkwardly on her feet.
“Sure,” Elyria said impassively, holding her injured arm aloft as if it were barely a bother, as if nothing strange and unexpected had occurred in this chamber at all.
Zephyr went to pull something from her belt.
In one swift motion, Elyria yanked her arm back, her eyes narrowing on the small tin Zephyr now held. “How’s the smell of that one?”
The sylvan huffed a quiet laugh. “I’m afraid you already know,” she said. “Same stuff I gave you for your legs.”
Cedric couldn’t stop himself from glancing at Elyria’s legs, from thinking about the checkerboard of burns he knew lay under her leathers.
Elyria groaned melodramatically. “Fine. But only because I also know how well it works.” With her uninjured arm, she pinched her nostrils closed and squeezed her eyes shut, her visage suddenly far closer to that of a spoiled child than a centuries-old fae warrior, and it made that formerly aching spot in Cedric’s chest start to throb.
“Here, allow me,” he said, taking the tin from Zephyr with one hand and tenderly lifting Elyria’s bandaged arm with the other.
Elyria’s eyes flew open, and she seemed to instinctively pull her arm closer to her body. “No, you don’t have to?—”
“Please,” he said, his eyes meeting hers. “Let me.”
She hesitated, her face inscrutable. She leaned toward him. The movement was subtle, small. And were it not for the thick fog of tensionsuddenly pressing on the two of them, Cedric might have wondered if he’d imagined it entirely. But tense, it was. The kind of tension that made him feel like the two of them were seconds away from clashing...in some manner or another.
Whatever she saw in Cedric’s own expression must have softened her resolve, however, because a long sigh slipped from between her lips moments later, and she allowed him to gently retrieve her arm.
Cedric’s breath caught in his throat as he unwrapped the bandage to reveal the angry red burn beneath. It was worse than he’d imagined—her pristine skin was cracked, raw, and blistered from her palm to her elbow. And this wasafterZephyr had already tended to it. He could see a few patches of new skin poking through, shiny and pink, but more of it was still charred, dark, and peeling.
Swallowing hard, he tried to quell the twisting in his stomach as he dipped two fingers into the balm—which did, in fact, smellabsolutely foul—and gingerly applied it to the burn. Elyria released the faintest whimper as he touched a particularly heinous-looking spot, and it was all Cedric could do not to crumple at the sound.
He froze, tempted to pull back entirely, but he thought that delaying would only make it worse. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You know I never meant to?—”
“I know,” she interrupted, something that sounded a lot like pity in her voice. “It wasn’t your fault.”
His jaw clenched. “It was.”
“I told you to stop apologizing,” she gritted out. “It’s not the first time, won’t be the last.”
“I know. But it should be,” he said, his voice tight. “And I swear, I will never be the cause of your pain again.”
There was a sad smile on her lips when he looked up. “You can’t promise that,” she said.
“I can. I do.”
He owed her that much. Owed her more than that. He did this to her. The hot sting of shame crawled up Cedric’s spine as he thought of the animosity he’d held for the Revenant—for her. There was much he wanted to make up for.
A clean bandage was suddenly dangling in front of his face, heldthere by a small green hand. Cedric blinked, having nearly forgotten Zephyr entirely.
“Thank you,” he said, taking the bandage and wrapping it back around Elyria’s arm. Zephyr patted him on the shoulder, and for a second she looked hesitant, torn. Like she might have wanted to say something. It was gone as quickly as it came though, and Zephyr was heading back to her previous position on the other side of the chamber before he could ask her about it. He had enough going on in his head at the moment anyway.
As if she could sense his thoughts, Elyria placed her hand on top of his, warmth radiating from the spot. A different kind of warmth than he was used to feeling. Less like heat. More like...light. And that throbbing in his chest only intensified.
If she felt anything similar, she didn’t let on. She only continued holding Cedric’s hand as she said with a steady voice, “I know something of having a power inside you that you don’t know how to control.”
