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It burned and burned until we were outside my door. The posted guards saluted Preston, and the action set my teeth on edge. He didn’t deserve it.
I couldn’t stop my tongue. “You think yourself so much better than the people you send off to die in battle, or the guards you post to protect this very castle? But what would you be without them? King over nothing. You have not earned their loyalty, not with your mistreatment of them. No wonder that archer tried to kill you. You are nothing but a coward.”
Preston cocked his head, and in the dimness, with nothing but flickering candlelight from the sconces on the walls to cast a glow across his face, his sharp features made him look nearly skeletal. “I suppose you think that offends me.” He stepped closer. “You think insults from a feeble human, one who will die and be forgotten while I continue on for endless ages, will trouble me? You, who nearly perished tonight trying to fend off that demon?” His smirk was cruel. “The undead of the underworld love to feed on life, to taste it, to claim a bit for themselves. But I wonder if, had that demon tasted you, it would have realized you were hardly more alive than it to begin with?” He reached around, miming the act of tracing a finger through the blood soaking my back. When he lifted that finger to his lips,pretending to lick it clean, my stomach roiled. The mere idea of him tasting my blood disgusted me. Preston sneered. “Your mortal blood is entirely revolting.”
Without another word, he yanked open the door to my rooms and shoved me inside.
“Hopefully Aspen can cure your mortal body enough to function through the work you have ahead of you in a few days,” he went on. “Though I suppose all we truly need is your blood. Oh, and clean yourself up. You stink of dog.”
“You stink of death,” I retorted.
Preston merely laughed, the sound echoing in the corridor as he slammed my door shut.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Garrick barged into my quarters a few minutes later, Aspen perched on his shoulder with her bag. Once they were within my rooms, she hopped down, shifting into her larger form. Seated on the edge of the bed, I blinked at them blearily, half-consumed with pain. Despite Preston’s insults, bathing was the last thing on my mind. I wasn’t worried he’d punish Garrick for touching me tonight, not when he’d been trying to protect me—I feared it was more likely Preston would hurt him for failing to prevent a demon from injuring me.
Instead, I’d tried to focus, tried to clear my thoughts. Perhaps there was some way I could prevent him or Nerissa from hurting Garrick. Some way I could convince them it wouldn’t be worth it. But my thoughts felt sluggish and my head light. I wondered vaguely how much blood I’d lost. Not enough to threaten my life, but enough to make me weak.
When I glanced up to see my friends, Aspen looked stern while Garrick seemed frantic, his brow creased with worry.
“Lay on your stomach,” Aspen said without preamble.
I stretched out across the bed as she’d ordered. The mattress bounced lightly as she tossed her bag down, reaching in for something. A moment later, I heard her slicing through my shredded tunic. Garrick positioned himself on the other side of the bed, leaning over to cradle my head in his calloused hands.
Aspen worked silently, not remarking on the state of my injuries as she applied something that stung fiercely. I bit back a groan, and Garrick brushed a tender thumb across my cheek, lifting my head so I could meet his golden gaze, soft and focused. “It’ll be over soon,” he murmured.
Once the pixie had finished cleaning the wounds, she set to work stitching the skin closed. Each pull of the thread had me hissing through clenched teeth. I tried to keep my eyes only on Garrick, letting his soothing words wash over me. “You’re all right, Starlight. Look at me. Think of your magic, what you succeeded in doing tonight. It was incredible.”
What he didn’t know was that I was concentrating not on the ice I’d conjured on the rooftop or the light that had flared from my blood when I’d fended off the demons, but on him. On the warmth of his arms when they’d encircled me on the rooftop. On the familiar rumble of his voice. On the achingly sweet touches he granted me now as he threaded his fingers through my hair, brushing it behind my ears, or as he ran his thumbs across my cheeks, catching stray tears that slipped out. On his eyes, bright and beautiful and full of an emotion I was sure I could name. It was on the tip of my tongue.
“Your plan worked?” Aspen asked at last, when she’d finished wrapping bandages around my torso. “You already saw results?”
As I sat up, cautiously clinging to the front of my tunic, she tossed me a fresh one from the wardrobe. Garrick turned his back to me without a word, offering me privacy as I shed the ruined garment and tugged the new one over my head. “Yes. Garrick escorted me so I could practice on a rooftop alone. It wasn’t much—but it was something.”
Garrick, who’d turned back to us, leaned against the headboard of my bed, a smile tugging at his lips. “It was more than something. Tell her what you did.”
I described the ice I’d managed to form across the roof floor, and Aspen grinned. “And they think your mortal side is a weakness. Look what a strength it has turned out to be, making you more resistant to forget-me-nots than any fae could ever hope to be.”
“I’m afraid it was one time when I probably shouldn’t have been her escort, though,” Garrick said, his expression sobering. “Not that I expect Preston or Nerissa would question me about Ren’s use of magic. Unless she’s been under threat of death, like tonight, they have no reason to think she can wield her power while they’re drugging her with forget-me-nots.”
“You’re right,” Aspen said. “We can only hope they won’t have any reason to suspect she can resist the flowers’ influence. And I assume they ordered you to escort and guard Ren anywhere she goes within the castle?”
Garrick gave a single nod.
