Page 26 of The Immortal’s Mark

“Thanks. I will.”

Without another word, Alex and Henry leave me.

I roll onto my side and watch the seconds tick by on the clock on the nightstand. The relief at being free of discomfort is immense.

Thank the Creator for Henry.

I need to find some way to show my appreciation.

I saw him eat a cookie once.

Maybe I’ll see if Cook will let me bake him something?

It sounds lame, but I literally know nothing else about the warlock. I never see him outside of training.

The clock reaches the top of the hour. I flop onto my back and stare at the ceiling. It’s plain compared to the masterpiece in Bella’s suite.

I purse my lips and blow out a breath to move the stray strand of hair across my face. It floats upward, then settles right back where it started. Annoyed, I swipe it away and let my hand drop heavily onto the mattress.

Now that I feel better, restlessness coils inside me. Maybe it’s from being bedridden for most of the day, but I suspect it’s been building long before that.

My thoughts drift to Des’s subtle exit in the middle of my healing.

My fists curl into the sheets as hurt pricks my chest and frustration twists my stomach.

I hate how much he still affects me despite my best efforts.

Unwilling to sit here and wallow, I sit up and swing my legs over the edge of the bed. I hop to the floor and head into the hallway, making my way toward Des’s room. I need to speak with him. I need to clear the air between us.

I have no idea if he’ll be there, but it’s as good a place to start as any.

The heavy wood door stands wide open. Beams of sunlight spill from his window into the hallway.

I slow my steps and tiptoe closer. Bracing a hand against the frame, I lean in and peek inside.

Des sits with his back to me, papers sprawled across the floor in front of him. He studies a packet in his hands, flipping pages every few seconds.

I glance at the table. It’s covered in documents, too.

I bite my lip.

He’s busy. If this has anything to do with the search for Bella, it’s important. I shouldn’t interrupt him.

But when I remember how he left my room so abruptly, I lift my hand and lightly tap my knuckles against the doorframe.

Des leans back and turns until our eyes meet.

“Darcie.” His voice sounds tired, but there’s a faint tug at the corner of his mouth.

“Can I come in?”

He nods and gestures for me to enter. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah. Henry is a miracle worker.”

“I’m relieved to hear it.” His eyes follow me as I step into the center of the room.

I glance around, trying to figure out where to sit or what to say, when Des clears his throat.