Page 63

Bria

A fter locking the door, I clamber to the bed, hugging my arms around my knees.

My body shakes from the shock of the night and my palms itch from my magic simmering so close to the surface.

I close my eyes and breathe, taking long inhalations and extending the exhalations, calming my body as Cato had taught me over the years.

After a bit, I scoot to the edge of the bed.

It’s enormous. A large ornate headboard carved of a rich black walnut with a sea of royal blue silk sheets and matching bedspread sprawl behind me.

There is an absurd number of pillows, various hues of blue and gold decorating the top of the bed and spilling into the center. No one needs so many pillows.

Standing, I take in the expanse of the room.

The entirety is decorated in similar fashion to the bed—cream wallpaper with whorls of gold and silver.

A large armoire sits to one side, the handles glistening with gold leaf inlay, and a table and chairs all made of the same black walnut sit nearby.

A clear crystal pitcher of water rests in the center of the table with a decanter of red wine and several glasses.

A beautiful crystal bowl filled to the brim with bright fruit and a smaller matching bowl with assorted nuts and chocolate sit on either side.

When I make my way across to the bathing chamber, I can see the steam rising from the giant clawfoot tub. The sparkling white porcelain is capped with gold feet, so much larger than the bathing chambers back in the camp.

As I unbuckle the armor, there’s a gentle ache in my hand when I grasp the leather straps.

I strip off my clothes, letting them fall to the ground in a heap by the bath.

Bending down, I snatch a dagger from the bandolier and place it on the small table that rests next to the tub, refusing to be unarmed or caught off guard here.

There’s a fluffy off-white towel with gold threading along the edges and a luxurious robe folded alongside it.

A cream-colored sleeping gown rests there as well and I run my hand over the fine silken fabric.

My body slips into the oversized tub, and I soak in the water, letting it scald my skin.

Small glass bottles litter the edge of the bath, filled with soaps and oils.

I lift one to my nose and notes of jasmine and vanilla waft from the bottle.

My stomach clenches when the vanilla hits my brain and thoughts of Ash come pouring in.

She’s likely going out of her mind with worry.

Yet another person I’ve hurt with my foolish, selfish actions.

I can only hope Silas was still with her when he found me in his mind.

There’s a chance that would have kept her calm, knowing where I was and what I was doing.

I hope Quinn found him. The thought of anything happening to Silas is unbearable, like a piece of my soul would be removed if he were to die.

This magical bond between us is no small thing, I realize.

I pour some of the oil into the tub, breathing in the intoxicating fragrance.

Unwinding the gauze fabric from my wrist, I flex my fingers and rotate the joint in circles.

It feels good, only a slight tenderness left, but my bones have healed.

Holding a dagger—and possibly a sword if needed—will be feasible when we flee with Nimai.

I bring my fingers to the opposite shoulder, feeling the soft pink scar tissue that has formed over the wound. Just like when Evander was healed.

I duck my head under the water and think of how he’s doing with his father and Luthais.

He’s been gone a while now. If I don’t hear from him by the time I’m done bathing, I’ll go looking for him with the excuse of feigning hunger or thirst. But then I recall the food and drink laid out for me on the table in the bedchamber.

They had made sure I have everything, so leaving the room will prove more challenging than I originally thought.

I come up for air and scrub my body in the jasmine and vanilla, the soap gliding across my skin and leaving it soft and supple.

I dunk my head below the water again, rinsing the soap from my hair as I dig around for a reasonable excuse to leave the room.

A soft knock comes from the bedchamber and I startle, staring toward the door.

My body stiffens and I scrabble for the dagger on the side table.

I slip out of the bath, stepping onto a soft and fluffy rug meant to soak up the water dripping off my body.

Wrapping the robe around myself, I tie it loosely at my waist and pad across the room and into the bedchamber, leaving wet footprints behind me on the floor.

The dagger remains tight in my hand as I approach the door and I hesitate, unsure of who stands beyond. It needs to be Ev.

The breath that I inhale is deep as I step to the side and open the door, keeping my body tucked slightly behind it, assuming if it is someone sent to kill me, they will charge once the door is opened.

Instead, I let loose a ragged sigh of relief and press the dagger to my chest when Evander slides through the opening I made.

His eyes shoot to the dagger in my hand, and he arches a brow, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Now, Bria, I may be playing the part of the bad guy, but please tell me you don’t intend to use that on me,” he teases.

The scowl I shoot him is well-deserved and I move to place the dagger on the bedside table, dripping water as I go.

“You’re soaked,” he states with disapproval, taking in my still-saturated hair and the glistening footprints I leave behind on the cool marble floor.

“I was bathing when you knocked,” I explain, folding my arms across my chest.

Evander walks to the edge of the bed and sits, unlacing his boots and kicking them off.

“Please, don’t let me disturb you,” he replies, the teasing tone still apparent in his voice as he strips off his armor and bandolier, tossing them to the floor by the bed.

He unsheathes one of his swords and lays it on the bedside table before unhooking the scabbard.

“I’ll just wait here until you’re ready to talk business. ”

My eyes narrow on him. “I’m ready now,” I insist through clenched teeth. I want to know everything he learned from his father tonight. And when we will get to see Nimai.

Evander grabs the neck of his tunic and pulls it over his head, letting it fall to the floor by his armor, then maneuvers his body up the bed and leans back.

He places his hands behind his head and crosses his legs over one another.

His tanned skin is beautiful against the blue hues of the bed, and I can see each ridge of his chest and abs.

I have a strong urge to run my hands and tongue along every edge but shove it back down.

Not the time. He glances over at me where I have unknowingly moved to stand beside the bed, like I’ve been drawn in just by his presence.

“As much as I love the robe, Bria, you should really get dressed. It’s distracting,” he drawls, letting his eyes close as he relaxes into the enormous bed.

No matter how gorgeous he may look laid out on my bed, and how much I long to know just how distracted he is by my outfit, he’s still pissing me off.

I roll my eyes as I stalk to the bathing chamber, pulling the door shut loudly behind me.

The resounding chuckle from beyond the door does nothing to lessen my irritation with him and I yank the soft robe off, hanging it on one of the golden hooks by the door.

The fluffy white towel is luxurious on my skin when I dry my hair and body before sliding on the silken sleeping gown.

It feels somehow even softer once it falls against my skin.

The thin straps delicately grace my shoulders and the short length grazes my upper thighs.

I debate pulling the robe back over myself to cover some of the barely-there gown but it’s soaked now, and I think better of it.

It’s also just too warm here to want to sleep in a robe.

When I exit the room, I move swiftly back across the cool marble of the floor.

Evander is still lying there with his eyes closed, comfortably sinking into the lush mattress.

It’s annoying as all hell that he’s so relaxed while my body vibrates with anxious energy.

The breathing and the bath helped calm my magic, but I still pulse with nervousness to hear what he’s learned.

I go to the other side of the bed and climb up, sitting across from him.

I go to cross my legs in front of me but recall the short length of the gown and pull them under my body instead.

Evander pries open an eye and catches me glaring at him, arms folded across my chest once more. He pushes out a long sigh and rolls onto his side to face me. His eyes widen as he takes in the sleeping gown, and he grimaces.

“What?” I demand, my irritation growing with every second.

“I was wrong,” he groans, his voice deepening. “You should have stayed in the robe.”

The familiar burning I feel when we are together kicks back in. A feeling low in my core spurs to life with the tone of his voice. His eyes rake over me, lingering on the high rise of the skirt, sending heat rushing into my face and chest.

I’m not sure what it says about me that part of me just wants to give in to that burning right now and move toward him, but I can’t. I need to hear about their conversation and Nimai.

“Talk,” I order, looking at him pointedly, ignoring the comment about the gown and the blush blossoming across my exposed chest and neck, rising into my cheeks. My body’s reaction to him betrays any words I try to say.

He drags his gaze back to mine. The blue and gold around him bring out the flecks of gold in his own eyes and my heart warms, letting go of a bit of the annoyance I currently feel toward him and the situation.

“They bought it,” he says, propping his head in his hand and tucking his elbow beneath him.

I shoot my brows to my hairline in surprise. They bought it? Could we be so lucky?

“Well, at least Aamon did. I’m not quite sure about Luthais, but I imagine we will be gone before he can be much of a problem for us,” he continues.

“Did they say anything more about Nimai?” The eagerness in my voice is apparent, desperate to learn more about my sister.

He shakes his head. “No, not much.” Evander combs his hair out of his face with his fingers.

“She’s in the dungeons, but now that you know she’s here, they plan to move her.

Luthais is to bring her to a room tonight.

I assume she will end up in this wing along with us, though Aamon mentioned being wary of how much she would say to you.

So, they may keep distance between you two.

They intend to act quickly, Bria, to bring you under control as soon as possible.

Before you can be turned by Nimai or understand what is actually happening here. ”

A terrifying prospect. Things will unravel fast now that we’re here, especially once they allow me to see Nimai. They cannot risk too much time with us together.

“How?” I ask, curious as to what action Aamon has decided to take.

“Oh, I’m to drug you,” Evander replies nonchalantly, his dimple shining through as my nostrils flare.

A small laugh at my reaction escapes him and he quickly reaches out to rest a hand on my leg, tracing his thumb along the hem of my gown.

The fury rising in me at the thought of Aamon ordering Ev to drug me washes quickly away with his touch, replaced by an ache to hold him and wrap my body around his.

“I’m not going to do it, Bria,” he states softly.

“I should hope not.”

He lets his hand drop and rolls to his back once more, closing his eyes.

“Well, you’re going to have to act a bit out of it if we have any hope of fooling them into thinking you are actually drugged,” he explains.

“My father intends to speak with the priests tonight to determine a correct dosage. I told him you were far too powerful for their typical amount. I figured that would give you one night free from having to feign impairment.”

“What is it? The drug?” He’s mentioned it before, but I never had the chance to ask many questions and now I’m curious as to how they subdue all these powerful people.

“It’s made from belladonna. The priests have worked for a very, very long time to determine how much is necessary based on a person’s body composition.” He stretches his arm out to me, laying it across the sea of pillows behind him.

“But they’ve met their match with you. We can talk more of it tomorrow, once my father has spoken with the priests. You need to get some rest.”

The lush blankets call to me, and I push them back, sliding my body in beside his.

I lay my head, hair still damp, in the crook of his shoulder, my face pressing against his chest. I trail my hand along his collarbone and rest it above his heart, feeling the steady beat below.

Evander wraps his arm around my back, coasting his fingers down the exposed skin.

The roughness of his calluses scrapes against me, and I wonder how rough my own hands feel on his skin.

And whether or not he minds that I don’t have the smooth hands a lady should have anymore.

I tilt my face up to kiss the edge of his jaw before nestling my head back into him.

“We’ll find her tomorrow, Bria.”

His whispered promise squeezes into my heart, planting roots, causing a bud of hope to blossom. I clamp my eyes against the stinging tears rising behind them and let Evander’s caresses on my back lull me into sleep.