“No.” He pulled my lounge pants over my knees, and I lifted my hips to assist him the rest of the way.
“You look exhausted. I’ll be fine if you want to go rest.”
“I’m not leaving you.” His tone left no room for discussion. He fell onto the mattress beside me, running his hands over his face.
“Is that normal? For a first year to be so talented with their magic?” I returned the conversation to Pia as I rested my head on his shoulder.
“She's definitely gifted if that's what you're asking. I’ve only seen healing magic that advanced by the infirmary menders. But they've had years of practice. Some of them have been healing since before the war.”
At the mention of battle, my mind went back to my most recent vision. Maybe when my head hit the pavement last night it knocked some sense into me, because everything started to add up.
It was all tied together. The visions of war. Beaumont’s retreat. Lucan's attack on me. All of it.
“Draemor is going to declare war any day now, despite what Beaumont told your father,” I spat out the words as the information clicked into place.
Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Beaumont lied when he pulled back his threats—he never had any intentions of following through, likewe predicted. We weren’t giving him what he wanted, so he pretended not to care to get your father to drop the wards. He used our naivety to give Draemor more time to prepare their attack.” I shook my head. “That's why Lucan came after me—his last chance at taking me to Draemor before they declared war.”
Sebastian stared blankly at me, absorbing everything I blurted out. He turned his head slowly towards the window, and nodded. “Can't say I didn't see that coming, but how do you know this?”
“Lucan told me that he wanted me alive to be used during battle.” I hadn't asked Sebastian what happened to the king's advisor—I didn't need to. “And the vision I had when waking up—Blythe said to prepare for warsoon. When word gets back to Beaumont that I refused his offer again, he’ll have no reason to hold back.”
“Shit.” Sebastian rolled off the bed and started pacing. “The conversation Sawyer overheard was just a ploy to get us away from you. Those probably weren't even our soldiers. Lucan wanted to try and persuade you to take the offer in private.”
“Draemor was going to attack Caelestis whether they had me or not. The only difference would be that I’d be the one doing the damage,” I added.
“It was so simple that I completely overlooked it. Fucking stupid. I know better,” Sebastian grumbled and put his back to me. “Did your vision give you any indication of when Draemor may attack?”
“No. She just said soon.”
He dropped to a crouch in front of me. “I have to inform my father. He doesn't even know Lucan is dead yet, and it would be quite the shock if Draemornian soldiers come knocking on his door before I get the chance to tell him. We’ll get the wards back up and prepare our troops. We don't want to waste a single second.”
He leaned forward, brushing his mouth lightly over mine. My split lip stung from his kiss, but I accepted the pain with passion.
“I'll have Sawyer stay with you while I’m gone,” he said after he pulled away.
My stomach dropped. Sawyer and I still weren't on good terms. “Oh no, that's okay. I'm just going to sleep, anyway.”
“I am not leaving you alone after this. That's not up for negotiation. I’ll try to be quick, and I'll bring you something to eat when I get back.”
“Can’t you stay for a little longer? Can we just lay here and pretend that everything is okay for a moment?” I pleaded, batting my heavy eyes.
Sebastian grinned apologetically, softening his presence. “I wish we could, baby. But I almost just lost you, and I will be damned if I waste a single second that could have been spent protecting you.”
I wanted to argue further, but dropped it and curled up in the comfort of my quilt. Sebastian left, then I closed my eyes and tried everything in my power to fall asleep before Sawyer arrived.
Chapter
Forty
It didn't work.
Sawyer marched into my room, not even trying to be quiet as he slammed the door shut. His boots stomped heavily across the floor as he approached my bedside, ripping the quilt off that I had strategically put over my face.
“Hey!” I whined.
“Oh good. You’re up.”
