Page 80 of Bitten & Burned

He meant it. He wasn’t trying to soothe me. He was sincere.

Somehow, that made it worse.

Worse than the near-death part.

Worse than the bite.

Just worse.

I pulled the blanket up to my chin, unsure of how to salvage the moment. Luckily, I didn’t have to worry about it for long.

There was a soft knock at the door, which cracked open.

“Cassian?”

Anton’s voice sounded… rougher. Like it had been wrung out—hoarse from shouting.

Cassian turned to me. “Up for visitors?”

I nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Come on in, she’s here in bed.”

Fig shifted on the pillow beside me, curling into a tight ball to sleep.

Anton stepped in slowly, his eyes going straight to me. Relief crossed his face, tearing it apart before he built it back up again, piece by piece.

“Oh, good, you’re awake…” He stood still, frozen with nervous energy, before he turned and walked to the windows.“Let’s get some moonlight in here. It looks downright dreary… You won’t get better if you’re constantly sad, Rowena. Cassian, really, you should have known better.”

Cassian smiled, seeing his sudden burst of movement for what it was. Anton was scared. Had been scared. And he needed a moment to compose himself. Cassian rose and nodded goodbye to me. “I’ll be back to check on you, little dove,” he said softly. Then, he was gone.

“Moon’s almost full tonight,” I said softly. “Lots of light.”

Anton paused, his hand on the curtain. I saw, for an instant, the blood that stained his knuckles. I wondered if it was my blood or his. Or Vael’s.

“It certainly is bright,” Anton said. “You witches adore this stuff, don’t you? You’ll need to get your strength back if you’re going to commune with your goddess.”

“I haven’t communed with Inera in such a long time,” I said wistfully. “Goddess, forgive me, I’ve been slacking off on my worship.” The words landed heavier than I expected. “I just… can’t face her, not with this thing on my leg. I lost my magic, and I don’t know how to be anymore.”

Anton let the curtain fall back into place, glancing at his hand and quickly covering it with his other one as he turned to face me, looking as if he wanted to say something… something important, but when he opened his mouth, what came out was:

“Talk to her anyway.”

I blinked. “Even if I can’t do anything?”

“Don’t forget those parts of yourself. Don’t lose yourself because of… that thing. Not after what just happened. You lived. I’d say you have plenty to talk to your goddess about. And from what I can tell, Inera favored you, allowing you to use her magic. She’s probably worried. As worried as goddesses can be, I suppose.” He let his hands drop as he walked. No—paced. He had no destination, but it was clear he must move.

“Later,” I said, holding out my hand. “Come here first.”

Anton froze, as if he didn’t quite understand what I’d asked—or that it required him to move. But when he did, he slowly walked over to me.

I patted the bed where Cassian had been, and Anton sat, taking my hand in his, remembering belatedly about the bruises on his hands, and tried to pull back, but I held on. His knuckles were warm against my palm, rough where the skin had split. I held tighter, grounding both of us.

“Are you okay?” I asked, running my fingertips over his trembling hand, wondering what chaos had been wrought by such elegant fingers.

Anton didn’t pull away, but I could feel the tension roiling under my fingers.

“I will be,” he said slowly. “I… lost my temper.”