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She waved my words away the same way she’d shooed Raphael from the room. “Bah. This is better than anything a healer could give you. Here.” She lifted a smaller box from the basket she’d set on the ground between us.

I took the box, curious, and lifted the lid. Rows of small brown desserts, decorated with different colored sugar, lined the bottom.

“It’s chocolate. Trust me,” she encouraged. Not knowing what those words meant for someone like me.

But… I did. At least in this. I took one and nibbled on an edge. An explosion of flavor coated my mouth, bitter yet enticing. I took another bite while Amalthea reached over and plopped one whole in her mouth.

I continued on the chocolates. I didn’t exactly like the taste, but I couldn’t stop eating them. My fingers were quickly painted brown. Amalthea managed to avoid making such a mess, despite eating at least as many. When the box was finally empty, I turned it over in my hands, antsy. The pile of splintered furniture, my onetime source of protection, taunted me. The hinges were askew, and fromexperience, I knew a lock brutishly opened like that would need delicate repair.

I hated to ask favors, but I’d never sleep another night like this. “Thea, do you think it would be possible to get someone to fix the door today?”

Amalthea pursed her lips and twisted her neck to see the destruction from Raphael’s entry. “I guess Raphael was… motivated. If he felt your pain through the bond, I doubt anything would have stopped him.”

The bond again. “So can it be fixed?”

“Of course, Sam. But you should know, even without a door, everyone would respect your space. You’re the king’s Chosen.”

Not everyone. Not Titus. I tried not to let my skepticism show, but must have failed miserably, because Thea quickly added, “Let me see to that right now, actually.”

She got up, and I examined the rest of the contents of the basket. Under the box was a book, a stone, and a bell. I lifted the bell in my hand, the gold metal glinting against the firelight. A summoning bell.

“That’s tied to me,” Amalthea explained, returning a moment later. “More suitable than having Raphael sending servants to fetch me.”

Summoning bells were tied to an individual and called them over a short distance. My mother had given one away once, in affection, and told me to think long and hard before doing so. Beyond that, I’d only ever seen them tied toservants before.

But Amalthea wasn’t my servant. Maybe she really was my friend.

“And what are these for?”

“That,” she said, pointing at the stone, “goes into the fire. It’s not enchanted, but that kind of rock stores heat very well. You take it out a bit before you intend to sleep, and it warms the bed. Before I started taking the tea, it was my best friend during my cycle. The book is to entertain you when you’re bored.”

The stone I appreciated. The book… “I have enough entertainment for me with the grimoire.”

Amalthea grimaced. “That’s hardly fun. This will help pass the time.”

I was about to protest I had no such need for entertainment, not when there was work to be done, when her words made me remember what I was supposed to be doing right now. “Gods, Amalthea. I need to get to the training room! Demos will—”

“Demoswill understand,” she interrupted. “He’s a hardass, but he’s not a complete barbarian, Sam. We can resume in a few days when the worst has passed.”

“That’s not necessary,” I protested. “I’m not grievously ill. I’m confident others have fought in worse.”

Amalthea lifted the stone from the basket and placed it at the edge of the fireplace. “Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean you have to. You’re training in self-defense, Sam, not going to war. Just because theoretical ‘others’ had it worse doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take care of yourself.”

I wanted to explain that was exactly what it meant, but I lacked the words that wouldn’t sound petulant. Amalthea, rightfully used to winning every argument, settled back in her chair with another book. I didn’t take the grimoire out, but I didn’t pick up the novel either, instead choosing to study the book on vampire powers. Maybe it wasn’t the worst thing that the mental link had brought Raphael to me, but the intimacy bothered me. Hours passed. The door got fixed—by a vampire—and when he left, Amalthea helped barricade the door once more for me.

At some point, I drifted off to sleep. More accurately, I succumbed to the exhaustion like my body begged me to. When I awoke, it was a fight to lift my eyelids. The room was dark, save the dwindling orange embers from the fireplace. The book I’d been working through was splayed open on my chest. I cracked my neck, trying to orient myself to my setting.

And realized I wasn’t alone.

“You always do this,” I groused.

“Do what?” The Vampire King of the West asked.

“Watch me sleep.”

I didn’t have to see him to know he was smirking. “Someone needs to keep an eye on you.”

But why is it you?“Where’s Amalthea?”