Page 52
We crossed the arch.
The spring filled a round stone pool set into the floor. Clear water bubbled from a crack in the wall and sent steam into the sheltered space. A stone bench curved around one side. Thick rose vines covered the entrance, leaving the pool hidden from the outer gate and most of the garden.
The place had been made for privacy. It had once held towels, lamps and wine. Those comforts were gone, but the water remained warm and clean.
Bryony stared at the pool. “This bloody house kept a heated spring down here while it left you beside a cold throne.”
“The house and I have a strained relationship.”
“I’m beginning to see why.”
She sat on the bench and examined the black stain on her fingers. I crouched in front of her and took her injured hand.
“This needs washing off.”
“It didn’t burn.”
“It came from one of Adrian’s vines. It may be harmless now the stem is dead, or it may still carry part of the command he pushed through the gate. I want it off your skin before we learn which.”
I lowered her hand into the spring. Black threads lifted from her skin and vanished in the moving water. The cut on her knuckle had already stopped bleeding.
Her pulse changed under my fingers. Hunger answered, controlled but present.
Bryony noticed my fangs. “Do the scratches make it worse?”
“The scent does. I fed recently, and the cuts are small. I can manage it.”
“You’ll tell me if that changes.”
“Yes.”
I washed the last stain from between her fingers, then turned her hand over. No thorn tips remained in her skin.
“Turn around,” I said.
Bryony shifted on the bench and lifted her hair from the back of her neck. The torn collar exposed three red lines across her shoulder.
I moved the damaged wool aside and ran wet fingers over each scratch. Her breath slowed. Mine didn’t.
The spring had warmed her skin. A drop of water travelled from her shoulder towards the curve of her breast, disappearing under the jumper before I could follow it farther.
I cleaned the shallow cuts and lowered the fabric. “Nothing is lodged in them. They’ll sting for a few hours.”
She kept her hair lifted. “You can stop pretending the scratches are the only thing you’re looking at.”
“I wasn’t aware I was pretending.”
She turned her head enough to meet my eyes. Desire darkened her expression. My fangs were still down, so mine was obvious.
I put my hand around the side of her neck. My thumb rested under her jaw while I leaned close.
Her lips parted.
The chain pulled again.
I stopped with my mouth a breath from hers and looked towards the garden. The timing felt personal.
Bryony let out a quiet laugh. “Your house has opinions.”
