“Ahh, thanks?” I say, feeling a touch insulted.
He makes a motion that I think is a shrug. “I doubt it had much to do with you.”
Rude.
Maybe this is the reason he doesn’t have anyone. He’s clearly a jackass.
I stand to leave. “Well, glad I stopped by. I suppose it’s good to see you made it out alive too.”
“Wait,” he says as I turn.
I glance back over my shoulder, but don’t move to sit back down.
He struggles to a half-seated position, and part of me wants to let him, but it’s obvious he’s in pain. And if that pain comes from creating portals, then the blame rests with me, so I rush over to help him, repositioning the pillows so he’s somewhat upright.
Even that small amount of effort appears to have cost him. His pale features are bleached even more than when I walked in, his breathing ragged. He keeps his eyes closed as he saves what little strength he has.
“I’m sorry,” he finally says. “It seems the years haven’t improved my manners.”
I don’t reply, because he’s not wrong.
“I only meant that dragon shifter of yours is very protective. That boy would move heaven and earth for you. Or die trying.”
I don’t believe that’s truly what he meant, but the implication behind his words makes my heart soften anyway. That Becks would care so deeply about me, enough for even an ancient vampire to notice.
“Please, sit,” he says after a coughing fit.
I eye the chair, not sure I want to.
“Please,” he says again, and the pleading in his eyes finally gets to me. It’s clear he’s lonely. What does a few more minutes of my time cost me?
A coughing fit hits him as I settle again. I now understand why making another portal isn’t an option. It’s not just his magic that is depleted; his body is worn out.
He takes a deep breath, and it rattles in his chest. It sounds bad enough that I start to wonder if I should find a nurse or healer.
“Don’t look so worried,” he says with a wan smile. “I have a few years left in me yet.”
I eye him, not sure that’s true. On the outside, Cassian looks to be in his late thirties, but he lived for thousands of years trapped in a cursed dagger. I’m not sure what that does to someone’s natural lifespan.
“Thank you for getting my parents to safety, and also for bringing everyone back to help. It clearly cost you.”
“Portal-making takes a toll,” Cassian explains, eyes closing in fatigue. “Channeling that much magic is hard on the body, and I’m still only a shadow of what I used to be.”
I nod, as if I understand, when I don’t truly. Magic is still so new to me.
“Well, thanks just the same,” I say, feeling awkward.
Cassian’s eyes open, and he regards me with something akin to amusement. “You can lay that thanks at the feet of your shifter as well. I refused him, repeatedly.”
“Then what made you finally give in?” I ask, curious.
He chuckles, his gaze turning hazy with remembrance. “Let’s just say he appealed to my softer side.”
I tilt my head, not understanding.
Cassian’s eyes grow heavy, and the cadence of his labored breaths slow. As much as he may crave company right now, he needs rest.
I’m about to stand to leave when his hand shoots out, fingers gripping my wrist like an iron shackle. I jolt, a soft yelp of surprise slipping free. When I glance up, his gaze is pinned to me, and wide in alarm.
