Page 33 of The Gathering

Dorian didn’t make it to his own room.

And honestly, he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

Even knocking on Nyssa’s door was a chore.

There was a pause, and he leaned his forehead against the wood as he waited on her answer. And once he heard her footsteps nearing the threshold, he picked himself back up and pressed his palms into the frame.

Nyssa opened the door in a whirl, obvious she was ready to shout at whoever had awoken her, but her face paled upon seeing him.

“Dorian—“ She ran forward and pressed her hands to his cheeks as he started to fall, smearing blood and clearly looking for any wounds on him. “What happened?” she asked in a panic. “Why is there blood? Who’s blood—“

“Infi,” he managed, and Nyssa stilled, eyes wild.

“Infi?” she repeated. “Here?”

Dorian swallowed, and his heavy eyes lifted to hers. “Can I stay with you?” he managed. “I don’t really want to be alone.”

Her entire expression faltered, but she composed herself in a blink. “Yeah—yeah, of course. Come on.”

He nearly fell as he stumbled over his own feet getting inside, and he had to grab the dresser, staining it with black, as she ran over to her tub.

“Bath first,” she insisted. “You’re not getting Infi blood all over my sheets.”

He wanted to laugh.

He really did.

But all he could manage was to hold himself up on the back of her chair while she drew the water. His mind continued to spin. Seeing flashes of the Infi there in that room. In the stockades at the Dreamer villages. Him stabbing their necks and breaking their ribs to pull their hearts out.

“Dorian, you’re shaking,” Nyssa muttered as she tried to help him pull his shirt off.

Dorian didn’t respond. He walked numbly over to her tub and sat in it without removing his pants. His thoughts were too clouded to remember.

For a few moments, he simply stared into the water, finding his own reflection on the surface and looking into the eyes of the Prince he tried to block out.

There was a scratch on the floor, and he realized Nyssa had pulled her chair up behind him when her hands were in his hair. The smell of her salted orchid soap filled his nostrils, and he forced himself to stay upright.

Scarlet invaded the clear water with every scrub of the washrag. Nyssa didn’t speak for a long while as she washed him. He didn’t even move when she poured a bucket of water over his head to get rid of the suds. But after a bit, and when most of the blood seemed to have disappeared, he started picking at his nails.

“Dorian?” Nyssa finally called out.

“I’m okay, sis,” he whispered, looking back over his shoulder and giving her a forced smile.

Tears were in her eyes, and she shook her head, face scrunching like she was holding back emotion. “You’re not,” she managed. “All this… the Infi… it’s so heavy on you. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Instead of replying, Dorian sank against the tub and closed his eyes, unable to formulate his feelings or what to say to her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him close, her head resting against his. Dorian fought his quivering lips as he held her forearm, silent tears jerking down his face from being so overwhelmed with everything going on around them. And after a moment, when he found he couldn’t hold himself together any longer, he crawled out of the tub—ruining her rugs and floor and dress—and he collapsed into her arms on the floor.

Part Three

Royal Ball Day

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

NYSSA AND DORIAN woke to Willow bursting into the room, spouting off about how much she hated that they were entertaining guests not of their own kind. For a moment, it sounded like incoherent babble, and Nyssa wasn’t sure what she was talking about.

Nyssa didn’t move, not even after Willow clapped at the end of the bed like she was corralling chickens. Nyssa’s arm was slung over Dorian’s back, both of them entangled as they slept sprawled out like starfish as they slept.