Until the door squeaked as it opened, and he heard her voice.
“Excuse the interruption,” Nocturne said, her words edged with just enough irritation to suggest she would rather not be talking to him at all. He didn’t blame her.
She stood in the doorway. Hesitating. The skin beneath her eyes was red and puffy—from crying, no doubt.
Kit cleared his throat. “Please,” he said, rising from his chair. “Come in.”
She slowly stepped into the room, her feet entirely silent on the plush red carpet, and slid the tray of fresh food onto his desk. In most Houses, poison would be a concern. But here in the North, the skin-changing Fey, Elves, and Nymphs could detect any type of poison, even the ones that most people without a keen sense of smell believed were odorless.
Kit barely took note of the food. Instead, his gaze snagged on the flagon of wine. Without a second thought, he poured himself a glass and drank until it was empty. He set it onto the desk with a wetthump, wincing again as the bandages that were wrapped around his torso shifted.
Nocturne was hesitating nearby, her mouth hanging slightly open. Kit started to the thank her at the same time she blurted, “You’re bleeding.” There was no feeling in the words. No sympathy. It was simple fact.
And hewasbleeding. He wasn’t sure when it had started, but his pale blue shirt was damp with fresh blood. “So I am,” he mumbled as he flashed her the barest hint of a smile.
She didn’t smile back.
“What happened?” she said.
“Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”
Those turquoise eyes bore into his. “You were flogged. Weren’t you?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Kit snapped. He had to get her out of here.Now. “You should go.”
Nocturne shuffled back a step, her mouth a thin line. “We all bleed, General. You’re no more immune to Death than the rest of us.” The words were said in a way that implied she was trying to convince herself. As if, before this moment, she’d believed him incapable of bleeding. Unable to be killed. The Fairfolk were indeed blessed with the inability to age, but they could die all the same.
Being careful to keep his tone gentle, Kit repeated, “You should go.”
Nocturne crossed the short distance to the door. She kept one hand on the wood frame as she spoke. “There must have been a valid reason for the king to have someone like yourself flogged. Someone of value.”
Kit’s eyelids slid shut.It’s for her own good,he told himself, grinding his teeth so hard his jaw ached.Get her out of here.
“Nocturne,” he started, his voice low. “If you do not leave this room right now, there will be trouble.”
He opened his eyes to find her staring at him, her head held high. He’d meant for his words to be somewhat of a threat, though he would never lay a hand on this woman—not if his life depended on it. But she didn’t know that, and he would try anything to keep her away. To keep her safe. After he’d willingly endured her punishment, the king would be watching not just his alpha, but the girl who’d done what the king and his men believed was the impossible.
The girl who’d managed to make himfeel.
Nocturne’s fingers curled into loose fists at her sides. “Would you hurt me?”
“Not on purpose.”
He could see that she wanted more. She wanted more of an explanation as to why he had helped Avalon and Hadrian; why he had been kind to her and saved her from those Crows; why he now had wounds that matched her own.
But he couldn’t give her more. Not if he wanted to protect her.
Even if every inch between them felt like an ocean.
Wind and rain howled outside. They stared at each other in silence as another minute passed. The clock struck nine, each chime a reminder that it was time for her to retire to her chambers. It was one of the many rules in this House, and he’d never been more grateful for it.
Nocturne stepped into the hallway. “Goodnight, General.”
Kit listened to her footsteps as she retreated until he couldn’t hear them anymore.
~
The king woke Killian before the sun had risen.
