He didn’t even blink. “We all do, I’d wager. No one goes through the shit we did and comes out completely clean.”
Then he laid back on the bed, arms crossed behind his head like he’d done it a hundred times before.
I stared at him. “You’re staying, I suppose?”
“Is that a problem?” he asked, eyes already half-lidded, his voice low with exhaustion.
“No,” I said, quieter this time.
I turned my back to him and stripped off the ruined dress, pulling on the loose pyjamas Syrena had left folded near the hearth. The silk clung slightly to my skin, still damp from the sea air and everything else I hadn’t shed.
Behind me, Slade didn’t move. Didn’t look.
That stillness—his quiet, deliberate restraint—made something deep inside me loosen. Like I could breathe again.
I turned off the light and slid beneath the covers, drawn to his quiet warmth. The scent of stone and ash clung to him—earthy, grounding. Like home, if I’d ever had one.
Moments later, I heard the door creak open. Footsteps.
Leo.
He muttered something under his breath—grumbling about sharing a bed with Slade again—but his voice was softer than usual, tired around the edges. He didn’t stop. Just peeled off his boots and climbed in beside me.
Gods, the bed was big enough. But the space between us was shrinking.
I melted into the mattress, the heat of them anchoring me on either side. Warmth curled around my ribs like a balm I didn’t know I needed.
Then—another creak. The door. Again.
The mattress shifted under a new weight.
“Oh come on,” Leo groaned. “Is this a sleepover now?”
“Technically, yes,” Phoenix murmured from the dark, his voice bone-dry. “Don’t worry. I don’t snore.”
He took the far edge without hesitation, his presence a steady hum even in silence.
I didn’t stop him.
I didn’t stop any of them.
For once… I let myself be held.
**
The halls were quiet and still.
I was skipping through them, my body smaller, lighter. Humming a little song to myself.
I liked Shadowmere better than Blackspire. It was way prettier. The lights were brighter here, and the gardens smelled like real things—grass, and flowers, and fresh air.
Blackspire always smelled sick. Every time Daddy took me there, it made my nose wrinkle.
I wished we could stay here forever.
I skipped along the hallway to Daddy’s study at the end. I heard his voice behind the door, and something warm bloomed in my chest.
A little mouse scuttled across the floor ahead of me. Soft, grey, skittish. Mummy would’ve been mad, but I always liked the animals. Especially the black cat that came to my room atnight. She was quiet. Watchful.
