Page 72 of Valor’s Flight (The New Protectorate #5)

Chapter Forty-Nine

Stepping into Taevas’s tower was a bit like walking into another world.

Everything, from the height of the building to the materials it was made of and the scent of the air was so foreign.

She’d suspected from the start that it would be, but nothing could’ve prepared her for the reality of being immersed in his world.

Alashiya thought she’d be afraid. She wasn’t.

There was no tangled knot of dread in her belly or anxiety squeezing the breath from her lungs as she stared out the floor-to-ceiling window across from their bed. There was only a steady sort of certainty in her that defied place or setting.

How could she be afraid when her grove was near?

There were much more serious reasons to worry, and after what she’d been through, it seemed silly to have been so very afraid of leaving her home. Yes, everything was different and strange, but what did that matter? She could adapt.

If he lets me stay.

Alashiya swallowed hard and cast a furtive look at her husband as he toweled himself off. He looked perfectly at home in the sprawling, modern bedroom with its strange sunken bed draped in a gauzy canopy that spilled from the ceiling in a waterfall of fabric.

Everything about it was the complete opposite of hers.

There were no cozy rugs or moss on the windows.

Every bit of furniture, from the side tables to the arm chairs in the corner, matched.

Even the light fixtures, something she would’ve thought universal, were foreign to her because she couldn't actually find them. They were certainly there, but she couldn’t for the life of her pinpoint where the soft glow emanated from.

It just seemed to emerge from the tops of the walls and baseboards.

The room would’ve felt disturbingly clinical and devoid of life if it weren’t for the signs of her littered throughout it.

Alashiya wandered toward the bed, one of Taevas’s borrowed shirts swishing around her thighs.

She had to kneel down to sit by the mound of pillows at the head.

Her chest squeezed as her fingers skimmed the embroidery on the pillowcases.

And when she turned her head, there was the gift she’d been bold enough to send him — a hoop of nearly transparent gossamer covered in pressed wildflowers she’d painstakingly stitched in place.

Her magic hummed against her fingertips, making every stitch feel alive.

Blood to blood. Hyphae to hyphae.

For years, she’d imagined what it would be like to see all her work in one place. Her throat tightened as she traced familiar designs and fabrics, the soft sounds of her husband preparing for the long day ahead a soothing song in the background.

“When you’re ready, we’ll go shopping for whatever you need to make our roost feel like home.” Her husband’s voice drew her gaze back to him.

He stood in front of a black glass door, one clawed hand on a barely visible door knob. He was as naked as a jaybird, his tail swinging lazily over his tight purple backside, but he didn’t seem to notice or care.

Tucking her hands into her lap, she replied, “I don’t need you to change anything. This is how you like things, right?”

Perhaps she could get used to the bare walls and the clean lines and the lack of greenery. She had her doubts, but she wasn’t about to demand he change his entire house to suit her.

It became clear instantly that she’d made a misstep, however, when his eyes narrowed. “My Shiya, come here.”

Wary, she rose from the bed to pad across the room. Even the stone floor beneath her feet felt somehow modern and cold, a bizarre contrast from all the rock and stone she’d ever felt before.

When she drew close to his side, Taevas flicked his wrist. The glass door slid open on a well-oiled runner, making hardly a sound as it revealed a massive dressing room lined with racks and built-in drawers.

If she had to make a comparison, she would’ve put it closer to what she knew of museums rather than a closet.

Everything, from sunglasses to silk ties to handkerchiefs had their own special display cases.

What struck her wasn’t the strangeness or the luxury of it. Maybe to some it would be a gratuitous display of wealth, but to her it was a sign of overwhelming respect.

Her husband’s closet was a shrine. Dedicated to her.

She thought that seeing her work on his pillows and blankets was moving. Seeing every carefully displayed jacket, vest, shirt, and handkerchief in their glass cases…

Strong arms circled her waist and drew her in close.

The heat of Taevas’s body warmed her spine as a sense of rightness zipped along the hyphae.

His tail looped around her leg, holding her possessively.

“Look at how you’ve already made your mark on me, my Shiya.

You think I care if you change the color of our roost’s walls?

If you hate the couch or think my taste is shit?

This has been your home for a decade. It’s about time you really made it yours. ”

“I never imagined I’d get to see everything together,” she whispered. “It really does feel like I’ve been here.”

“You have been,” he insisted.

Worry was like grit under her skin, making it impossible to really accept his assurance.

Instead, she diverted his attention by padding around the space, her fingertips trailing over the glass cases and velvet-lined boxes with care.

Her magic greeted her with a feeling a lot like relief when she touched a familiar crisp white shirt.

It was the same one he wore in the photo she’d seen on Debbie’s tablet, with all the painstaking white-on-white embroidery she’d experimented with.

Taevas moved around behind her, plucking underthings and a pair of pants from a drawer, as she fingered the mother of pearl buttons.

“What’s the plan?” she asked.

“For today or more long term?”

Not sure she could face the idea of long term plans yet, she answered, “Today.”

“I am going to meet with my Wing and my council to get up to speed on everything that happened while I was gone. You are going to rest. Eat. Be pampered for the first time in your life.”

Alashiya turned around to fix him with a troubled look.

He was tightening a black leather belt around his hips, his claws deftly handling the sleek gold buckle in a few graceful movements.

He looked so whole and hale standing before her, but she couldn’t banish the image of him in the back of that car, his powerful body ruined.

“What about the healers? You should still be in the hospital. You said you’d rest if you were home, but none of that sounded like rest.”

“I’m sure they’ll be hovering,” he replied, running his claws through the long, wet strands of his hair. “But aside from my wings, I feel good. Better than I have in weeks.”

“Did they tell you what’s wrong with your wings?”

He looked away quickly. Reaching for the same white shirt that had drawn her attention, he wordlessly asked for her help in maneuvering around his bound wings. Only when she was behind him did he answer her. “No, they didn’t. I think they’re waiting to give me the bad news.”

Alashiya’s heart squeezed. Pressing her palm between the powerful joints of his wings, she whispered, “I don’t believe that.”

“Wings are delicate, my Shiya,” he replied.

Something in the matter-of-fact way he said it left her feeling like he was trying to cover up just how devastating an inability to use his wings would be.

“It’s possible they won’t ever be fixed.

Or they’ll never be completely the same.

I might never be able to fly again. Or… or embrace you as I should. ”

Wrapping her arms around his waist, she carefully avoided his wings as she pressed her forehead into the muscled gap between his shoulder blades. She didn’t offer him platitudes or empty hopes. She knew what it was like to ache for something taken from her.

“I’ll be here no matter what happens,” she murmured, pressing her hands into the bare skin below his unbuttoned shirt.

Taevas bowed his head. Releasing a slow breath, he rumbled, “I know, my Shiya. That’s why I want you to rest today. Let me take care of you for a change.”

A wave of unease rolled through her. “You want me to stay here? By myself? I don’t have anything to do.”

He squeezed her hands. “That’s the point. You’ve never had a true day of rest in your life. Let me take care of you and give you the chance to settle in — especially after what you went through at the hands of our own people. You earned some pampering, Shiya.”

Her throat constricted hard. “Taevas, I just…”

Perhaps hearing something in her voice, he grabbed her forearms and used them to guide her back around to his front.

“Something’s bothering you,” he murmured. “Tell me what it is, Shiya. What’s really bothering you?”

She didn’t want to. She didn’t even know if she could.

Alashiya didn’t regret what she’d done to keep him alive, but that didn’t mean it was right.

But she also couldn’t keep it in any longer.

As she’d come to realize, putting off the hard things didn’t make them any easier to deal with.

If anything, it made it a whole lot harder.

I’m not a coward, she reminded herself. I’m brave. I can do this. I can tell him.

His arms tightened around her. “Tell me what?”

Alashiya jumped. “What? I didn’t say anything.”

“Yes, you did.” A puzzled frown deepened the corners of his mouth when he slowly repeated, “You said, I can do this. I can tell him. Just now.”

“No, I didn’t.” Goosebumps lifted the fine hairs on her arms.

“You did,” he insisted. Taevas lifted a hand to rub his forehead. “I heard you. I keep hearing you. When I was in the hospital, I could’ve sworn… I woke up and I could’ve sworn you were right next to me. I could feel you.”

Her stomach curdled. Alashiya’s toes curled reflexively against the cool stone as she wrapped her arms around her middle. Bile crept up the back of her throat.