Page 58 of Spring Guardians & Songbirds

I grabbed both his wrists and pulled them away from me. “Don’t touch me.”

He nodded and turned to Mal, backing away as he said, “Brother, please have a look at her.”

Something inside my chest squeezed. So hard that I felt my heart pop.

Mal rested a hand on my arm. “You were not inflicted. Is it something else?”

“Show me to the room, I’m just tired.”

“Kil can take—”

“Show me to the room, Mal.”

When Mal left, I let out a long loose breath.

What is wrong with me? I peeled my dress and jewellery off, yet the heavy feel still weighed on me.

I was so tired that my reaction came too late and too meek when Kilian faded behind me and scooped me up in his arms before sitting on the sofa with me on his lap. “What do you think you are doing?”

“Medicine. For dizziness.” Uncapping a tiny bottle, he poured a burgundy syrup into a spoon. “Open your mouth, love,” he cooed, pushing the spoon between my sealed mouth. After several moments of silent angry stares, he put the spoon down and ran his thumb over my lips. “Come now.”

My chest burned like it was being clawed by the inside voice that wanted to shout, to scream. How dare he? How dare he pretend like he’d not been the one to ruin me. “Do you like it this much, seeing me helpless?” I asked, flicking the spoon from his hand and sending the syrup flying everywhere on his pretty tiles.

He sighed. “I am helpless before you all the time. I am helpless before you now. What you are is not helpless.” Pouring the syrup in the bottle cap, he lifted it to my mouth again and said, “Resent me all you want. Hate me all you want. Just take this. It’s only medicine.” He drank a bit himself from the bottle to show me. “Only medicine. Very bitter though, be warned.”

“I’ve had my bitter medicine for today, Your Majesty.” Pulling his hand off from me, I pushed away from his lap. “Don’t touch me again.”

He’d left the room. He’d let me be. But all I could concentrate on was his heartbeat resting just behind the bedroom doors and the shadow underneath from where he’d slumped against it.

A warm bath, dizzying aromatic scents, the soft lull of the fireplace flames and his citrus scented shirt I’d found in his dressing chambers had me drowsy and floating in a soft golden fog.

He’d returned not long after I’d gotten in bed, tucked me nice and tight under the blanket and then disappeared in the bathing chambers.

So silent. So dark though I’d lit dozens of candles around the room. How had I not noticed how dark it got when he was close.

His footsteps and heartbeat were light, I wouldn’t have noticed his presence if the bed hadn’t dipped behind me when he laid down, close to me but not close enough to touch.

It was only when he shifted to face my back that his heartbeat picked up enough for me to hear. I’d never met someone who could control even his own pulse.

Not long after he’d laid with me and surrounded me with calm, my world twirled into a blanket of dreams that soon turned to my usual hunting nightmares. I was back to running, this time through the streets of Amaris. There was the fire, the screams and the shadows. But this time, he was there too. The face I’d made up to be off red eyes, claws and fangs, leaking inky black tar and growling my name like a chant was replaced with silver halos and warm smiles, no longer chanting my name but singing it like a haunting lullaby that I longed for. When he reached out a hand, I gave him mine. And then he stood there holding me with a touch that began to grow cold, his eyes turning red, fangs extending out of him, my name a hungry call and the hand he held pierced by his claws making me bleed a river onto the white cobbled streets of Amaris.

Snow, a whisper called—his voice. Wake up.

With a jolt, I shook awake, taking a deep restricted breath in my burning lungs before coughing. The room was cold—cold enough that my breath misted white. Except that it wasn’t cold, I just had made it cold when I’d frozen the side of my bed and half the room.

A massive hand wrapped around my face, pulling my attention to him. No words were said. Nothing. His heartbeat was wild, but so was mine. Perhaps it was only mine. I didn't know. Sense of panic had not quite gone away.

Quietly, he got up from the bed and returned with a wet cloth and bandage. Wiping the blood from my palms before wrapping the angry deep scars with the white gauze. I didn’t look at him and he didn’t look up at me. I didn’t know whether he was angry or mad or sad, but from how hard his features had set when I finally glanced at him, it looked like it was all of that mixed together.

I hated that he pretended to care. Sometimes it almost convinced me that he actually did.

You did this to me, I wanted to scream. But if I did admit how he still haunted me, I’d be made weak.

None of us slept after, we both stood leaning back on the bed poster in total silence till dawn oranges, lilacs and mauves brightened the horizon framed by the tall windows.

“I will never hurt you, Snow.”

“I think you’ve done plenty already.” Scarred me in and out.