A blow to his face. His cheek stung.
His eyes opened…
And he wasn’t in his burning home. He was in a tent. Inhistent.
No fire. No heat. No smoke.
A pair of yellow eyes peered down at him, full of concern. His cheek throbbed and there was still something around his neck. But he was in his tent.
“You were dreaming,” Maeryn whispered, reaching for his throat and pulling something gently away.
A vine. Was that his?
“I heard you yelling. And your magic was out of control…you almost strangled yourself.”
She brushed a strand of hair away from his face. Raine shuddered at her touch.
“Take a deep breath and let it go.” Her voice was so soft, so kind.
He inhaled, his lungs free from the oppressive smoke, and released his magic. The rest of the vines around him disappeared into the ground. Free from the restraints of his own making, he sat up, rubbing a hand over his face.
“Fuck.” He met eyes with Maeryn. “Did you slap me?”
“I’m sorry. Nothing else was working. I shall get you some ice.”
She moved as if to stand. Raine’s hand shot out, fingers wrapping around her wrist. “No. Please…don’t go…”
“You must get more sleep.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to fall back asleep after that.”
She searched his face. With a resolute nod, she said, “I’ll stay,” then extended her legs and pointed to her lap, “lie down.”
“I—what?”
“Do not make me say it again.”
With a hefty sigh, Raine settled back onto his bed roll on his side, laying his head in Maeryn’s lap. Fingers threaded through his hair, a steady rhythm that had him relaxing immediately, and he couldn’t help but place a hand on her leg, settling closer to her warmth.
“Do you want to tell me what your dream was about?” she asked quietly.
“Not right now,” he whispered back.
“Alright then. Try to relax and close your eyes.”
Maeryn continued to soothe him. Her touch was light as she guided her fingers through the silky strands, each brush a release, a comfort. He let out a shuddering breath and nestled down, tightening his grip on her thigh.
If only he could spend the rest of his life in her arms. Letting her hold him as he longed to hold her. His soulbond. His fated one. The woman he was unashamedly already falling in love with.
He would tell her eventually. But not until the war was over. Not until they were free from the perils of daemons around every corner. Not until he wasn’t terrified of her death with every battle.
With each tender caress of her hand, each stroke along his scalp, his muscles eased. The tension melted. His mind calmed. He felt…safe.
Raine took a deep breath, his eyes finally fluttering closed.
And then she began to sing. A low, lilting melody. Haunting, but beautiful. The words she spoke were in a language he wasn’t familiar with, but they soothed him all the same. Within minutes, he was pulled back into slumber. Lulled by the timbre of her voice and the touch of her hands.
48
