“Thanks,” I croaked.
She squeezed my hand and smiled.
The next fewdays passed in a painful blur. I found it hard to keep track of time and slept a lot. My waking hours were spent with Valeria and Tilly and Salina monitoring my progress. With help, I got out of bed to use the bathroom, and everyone pretty much agreed, with much relief, that I didn’t appear to have any serious spinal cord injury.
But the head injury was enough to contend with on its own. Too much exertion (which could be as simple as trying to hold a conversation for too long, or taking too many laps around thecave) left me dizzy and exhausted. Even though I slept so much, none of it really felt restorative in the way I was used to. It was either so deep and dreamless that I woke wondering if any time had even passed at all, or it was fractured and fevered, plagued by a borog prowling through my head. Sometimes, I woke with a violent start to the sound of falling, crashing rocks.
Thaleo didn’t come.
After a week, my pride frayed beyond hope of salvation, I finally remarked on this to Tilly. Her brows rose at once.
“He comes every single night.”
“What? He does?”
I’d never seen him. Not once.
“You’re usually sleeping,” Tilly explained. “I’m afraid he doesn’t have much time when he is here, though. He’s constantly on patrol, keeping watch for the borog and assisting the hunters. I don’t actually know when he sleeps, to be honest.” She laid the tunic she’d been working on down in her lap. “He’d never say anything about it, of course. But we can all tell that man is running himself ragged.”
I hated hearing this. I hated imagining him pushing himself so hard. Hated how scared he probably was for his people.
And then, the few moments he did take inside the mountain for some rest, he apparently spent with me.
And I didn’t even fucking remember. I didn’t even know that he was there.
I resolved to try to stay awake at night so that I could finally get a chance to see him. It took a few more days before I was able to. But that night, about ten days after the borog’s attack, when he stole silently into the cave, I was ready. I sat up at once.
He froze, looking for all the world like a thief who’d just been caught.
“Hi,” I said, shyness suddenly stealing over me. Even though he’d apparently been with me every day, from my perspective, it felt like it had been more than two weeks since I’d last seen him.
He was just as imposing as ever, all those brutal lines and angles.
But Tilly had been right. I could see pure exhaustion in him. There was tension around his eyes, and a sort of spinning drunkenness to his sight stars. His hair looked windblown and tangled.
God. I wanted to hug him.
I lifted my arms and whispered, “Come here.”
He shuddered into movement, like I’d cast a spell on his powerful body and forced him to take the steps with nothing but my voice. He collapsed onto his knees beside the bed, his arms snaking around my waist. His head he laid upon my lap.
I fought back tears, certain that crying would induce a monster migraine. In an attempt to distract myself from that rising tide of emotion, I smoothed my hands over Thaleo’s hair, diligently finger-combing any knots I found. He was so solid. So strong and warm.
And so strangely vulnerable, down on his knees like this with his head in my lap.
“It’s nice to see you when I’m actually awake,” I said, enjoying the simple, quiet act of running my fingers through his long strands. His arms tightened around me. “Sounds like you’ve been really busy with all the patrolling and hunting and everything. Taking care of everyone.”
He was quiet for a long time. Then, in a voice like breaking stone, he said, “I did not wish to impede your recovery. I did not feel as though I had the right to take up any of your waking time. But at night, when I was back, and you slept, I…I could not stay away.”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” I whispered. “I’m glad you didn’t stay away.”
He raised his head from my lap, his tired sight stars searching my face.
“I am sorry, Nazreen.”
I’d never heard him utter the word before.
“You never should have been hurt,” he said bitterly, biting off each word. “It should have been me.”
