Page 71 of Valor’s Flight (The New Protectorate #5)

Chapter Forty-Eight

His dreams were dark and winding and full of strangers.

He got the impression that he was in a vast room. It was so large he couldn’t see the walls, let alone the exits. How he got there or why, he couldn’t say. All he knew for certain was that he’d been there before.

And that he wasn’t alone.

Alashiya stood beside him in the darkness.

Her presence was utterly unmistakable. She spoke to him in that soft voice he loved so much, harmonizing with the whispers of so many others all around them.

It felt a bit like he was in the middle of a clan meeting, but instead of being the leader, he was just another member tucked under the wing of a large, loving family.

Nothing they said made any sense to him. While their words were unintelligible, the tones and inflections were welcoming. He thought he might’ve been asked questions and perhaps he answered, but all he really knew for sure was that he was met with a palpable warmth and relief.

Warm hands touched his back and shoulders in the dark.

Old and young lips skimmed his cheeks. Someone strong gripped his forearm in a warrior’s handshake.

A pair of lithe arms squeezed him in a welcoming embrace, and he got the sense that he’d just been accepted by a being that was not one person, but many hundreds — a consciousness that was new and unspeakably old.

Welcome, welcome, a woman’s voice whispered in the fading shadows of early dawn. Take care of our queen, argaman mlk.

The whispers slipped away as wakefulness returned, smudging his memories of that warm, dark world until they were little more than a gut feeling. It was an exquisite relief to wake up in his nest. It was even better to wake up beside Alashiya.

The entire ordeal of the last few weeks seemed like little more than a fever dream as he lay ensconced in his bed, swathed in silk sheets and the scent of his mate. Her body was slack under the weight of his arm. The room was silent except for the soft sounds of their breathing.

He didn’t open his eyes for a long time.

Alashiya’s home hadn’t been loud, exactly, but it wasn’t quiet, either.

Birdsong, crickets, the rush of wind through lush tree canopies — all of it bled through the thin walls of her dwelling.

He didn’t realize he’d grown used to it until he experienced the silence of his roost again, where only the howl of wind whipping off the lake could make it through the sturdy walls.

And yet… when he strained to listen, he swore he could hear the murmurs of far-off voices. The only clear one he could make out was his mate’s.

The vaguest murmurs reached him. Snippets of phrases, soft sighs, and little hums filled his mind. If he focused hard enough, he thought he could make out the sound of Alashiya’s voice more clearly, but none of what she said made any sense.

Taevas frowned. Must be the pain meds.

The healers had been vague about what damage had been done to his wings, saying they would discuss it more when he had a chance to rest and let his body recover.

He’d been advised to take more pain meds before he went to sleep the night before, so he attributed his strange dreams and the echoes of far off voices to whatever potent cocktail they’d given him.

Soft fingers touched the downturned corner of his mouth. “Are you hurting?”

His eyes opened. Alashiya lay in front of him, her long curls fanned out across a plush pillow and her skin aglow in the warm light of dawn. Dark circles ringed her eyes and her cheeks looked too thin, but her eyes were bright as she watched him.

“I’m fine,” he whispered, struck by a sense of deja vu.

“Are you sure?”

Taevas took her hand and kissed the pads of her fingers. “Yes. Yes, I’m sure.”

“You look so much better.” The relief in her voice and expression nearly broke his heart.

“Thanks to you.” He hooked his hand around the back of her neck and drew her close enough to touch their foreheads together. Infusing his voice with every ounce of painful feeling in him, he rasped, “I’d be dead without you, my Shiya. I’m sorry for sending you away. I’m so, so sorry.”

“I forgive you,” she replied, voice thick with tears. “As long as you’re okay, I’ll always forgive you.”

“I don’t know that you should, but I’m grateful regardless.” He exhaled slowly. Taevas wanted nothing more than to stay in bed with her forever, but that wasn’t an option. The ’Riik waited for him — them.

But they had a little bit of time before the world came crashing down on them, and he intended to make the most of it.

“Will you let me care for you this morning?” he asked, delicately trailing his claws through curls in desperate need of detangling.

A small smile quirked Alashiya’s lips. “Are you saying I need a shower?”

“I’m saying I have a marble bathtub big enough to fit the both of us,” he replied. It was good to see her smile. Maybe even the best thing in the world.

“And you waited this long to tell me?” She rose slowly, clearly still exhausted from all that she’d been through, but he wasn’t exactly speedy either.

Together they made their slow way over to the large en suite bathroom.

The tiles were cool under his bare feet as he carefully stripped her of her clothing.

Alashiya was oddly quiet when he took her hand and guided her down the steps into the steaming pool of the bath, but he supposed that was to be expected.

Everything, from the sparkling bathroom to the territory it sat in, was new to her.

Hoping to help her relax a bit, he settled into the bath behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. They soaked in silence for a long time, comforted by each other’s nearness and the sounds of their breathing. Only the occasional drip from the faucet interrupted the soothing rhythm.

Steam curled around their naked bodies, and the scent of fresh water filled his lungs as he rested his cheek on the crown of her head. Finally, he thought, immeasurably grateful. Finally, we’re home.

But Alashiya didn’t seem to feel the same peace. She was stiff against his chest. Her nails curled into his forearms like she was afraid he’d disappear. His chest rumbled with a soothing purr, but not even that seemed to relax her.

A tremor of something like instinct worked its way through him and settled behind his breastbone with a small tug. He knew Alashiya needed comfort. Not just because he knew her personality, but because some innate part of him was attuned to the very core of her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, rubbing her cheek against her curls. His chest tightened painfully. “Are you uncomfortable here?”

She sucked in a trembling breath. “No. I don’t know. Maybe.”

“What can I do?”

“I don’t know,” she answered again. “Taevas…”

Leaning around her to get a look at her troubled expression, he prodded, “You can tell me anything. Whatever you need to be comfortable here, it’s yours. This is your home, Shiya.”

Her gaze searched his. “Is it?”

“It may not feel like it yet, but it is,” he promised her. “This is your roost. These are your people. This is your clan.”

Her fingers tightened on his arm. “And what if they don’t like me? What if I don’t fit here?”

Taevas gently shifted her forward, until he could comfortably tip her back into the water. Holding her head between his hands and staring down at her, he swore, “Then I’ll carve a new place for you to fit in, Alashiya.”