Page 154 of Lady of the Drowned Empire

He moved to the front of the ashvan, stroking its face and murmuring to it in High Lumerian before he reached for my waist and gently pulled me down toward him.

“Last jump for the night,” he said.

I could see for the first time the devastating exhaustion and worry and fear painted across his face. He’d been fighting for me all day, doing everything he could to restore his power, to use it sparingly in a country where magic was weak, to pick the right moment to save me because if he’d acted too soon, we could have both been caught. His vorakh exposed. Our broken oaths used against us.

I hugged him to me and watched as the ashvan and trees vanished, and then we were back at the inn, in the same room as before.

Rhyan dropped our bags, stumbling backwards, looking ready to faint.

That was when the sobs came, wracking my chest with their force.

“Lyr,” Rhyan cried. He was letting his guard down now, too, holding me tightly to him, burying his face in my neck, inhaling deeply as his shoulders shook. Then he stilled, swallowing roughly and pulling back, pushing my hair from my face. “I almost lost you today.” He blinked quickly before taking a deep breath. “I’ll get you cleaned up. Let’s get in the shower.”

I nodded wordlessly, feeling numb as he led me to the bathroom. He turned on the water and began methodically undressing me. He removed my armor and cloak then bent down and held my waist as he stepped my feet out of each boot. He did the same to slide down my socks and untie the bandage. Reaching up, he grasped the waist of my pants and gently pulled them down.

“How’s your leg feel?” he asked.

“It hurts.”

“Try to keep your weight on the other foot for me.” He stood, keeping his eyes on my face as he pulled the remains of my tunic over my shoulders, letting it slide to the ground at my feet.

His nostrils flared in anger as he saw my ripped shift, the cuts down my sternum. There was a bruise above my breast—fingermarks. His eyes reddened as he reached inside the stall, checking the water’s temperature. He turned back to me, his gaze at first lifted to my face, but after a moment, his eyes wandered down my body.

His fists clenched at his sides. He was visibly restraining himself, the anger in his aura palpable, and for a second, the shower water seemed to pause as if he’d frozen the pipes, but then the water continued flowing, and steam began to fog the small mirror that had been nailed above the sink basin. Rhyan’s neck reddened, his nostrils flaring, before he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“You’re covered in blood.” His voice was gruff.

“It’s not all mine.”

“I know.” He ripped off his cloak and armor. His weapons clattered to the ground at his feet, as he rushed to remove his boots. “I’m coming in with you,” he said, a worried look in his eyes. “Is that alright? I want you to hold onto me, keep weight off your left leg.”

I nodded again, still numb. A pit formed in my stomach as he removed his pants and tunic. He was in only his short-pants. “These are staying on,” he said, watching my face.

I tried to give him a smile, knowing he was trying to make me feel safe, to reassure me this shower was about cleaning. But I couldn’t smile. I wasn’t sure those muscles were working. His eyes searched mine before he stepped into the stall with me, positioning me beneath the stream.

Hot water splashed down on my skin, hitting the back of my head, and rolling down my neck and shoulders. I felt Rhyan reach for my underwear.

“Lyr, is it okay if I take these off? Just so you can get clean.”

“Okay,” I said, my voice small.

He moved slowly, carefully, keeping his eyes lifted as much as possible, the muscles in his jaw flexing as he untied the ribbons on either side of the material. I felt the callouses of his fingers against my hips as he pulled the cloth from between my legs, and tossed it onto the bathroom floor.

The moment it was gone and I stood completely naked, something shifted inside me. My chest started to heave. I was completely naked, vulnerable—in the state Kormac would have eventually gotten me into. In the state I imagined Jules had been in. The water was too hot, and Rhyan was too close, and I just wanted to scream, and—

“Partner.” He reached for my face, cupped my cheeks, stared into my eyes. “You’re okay. It’s just me. We’re just going to get cleaned up. Okay? You’re safe now.”

Grabbing a washcloth, he went to work, lathering it in soap and taking my arm in his hand. It was stained almost completely from elbow to wrist in black and red blood. Mine, and the nahashim’s.

I watched as the blood dripped down my body, mixing with the water and turning pink before running down the drain.

I felt Brockton again, cutting through my tunic, cutting open my shift. I felt all of the wolves watching, laughing, leering. Brockton’s hand on my bare skin.

“NO!” I yelled.

Rhyan stopped at once. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” I cried.