The thought of a battle sends an uneasy prickle through me—most of the pack isn’t in any state to go to war. But that’s exactly why he’s giving me this responsibility.
I nod sharply. “I can do that. Thank you for trusting me with the task.”
“Of course. I’d have had you do it sooner if I hadn’t wanted to spare our people the stress of wondering why we’re preparing them. But as things look now…” He exhales with a grimace and pauses. “Talia should learn whatever you can teach her too. Work with her here in the keep for the time being, and with the others once she’s revealed herself to the pack. She’s had to fend off claws and fangs too many times already without the means to give her a fighting chance.”
Yes. The image of a wolf lunging at her swims up from my memory, and my muscles tense instinctively. Anything I can to do to teach her how to protect herself is twice as good as the protection I can offer.
I dip my head to my lord again, drawing myself up even straighter. “I’ll see to both. If it comes to blows, we’ll be ready for them.”
Whether we’ll be ready enough to win… That’ll come down to how well I do this new job I’ve demanded.
Chapter Three
Talia
A hand slams my head down, fingers digging into my scalp in five bruising points of pain. The weight of the man’s body squashes me into the cold floor so forcefully I can’t breathe. My legs flail instinctively—no, no—and all at once he wrenches backward.
He snatches my foot, fingernails sharpening into claws. With a violent twist, the bones snap. Pain floods my leg. I shriek, and the stale air clogs my throat with the stench of urine and blood, choking me, suffocating me as the agony blares on and on—
“Talia.”
A steady but determined whisper. A hand, much gentler, stroking down my arm. I jerk awake, barely processing those sensations, my heartbeat booming with panic for the few seconds before the bleariness clears from my gaze and I make out Sylas looming over me, sitting on the edge of my bed.
A nightmare. I’ve had another nightmare about my time in captivity. I’ve thrashed the covers off down to my waist; the thin fabric of my nightgown sticks to my back with sweat now turning clammy. A sour, acidic flavor laces my mouth. I swallow hard, trying to rein in my racing pulse.
The fae lord’s hand stills by my wrist. He peers down at me with his mismatched eyes, and not for the first time I wonder which sees more. “You cried out,” he says evenly. “More than once.”
Crap. As my terror retreats, embarrassment prickles in to take its place. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”
He shakes his head dismissively. “I was still working, but even if you had woken me, it wouldn’t be your fault.” He pauses, his thumb grazing my forearm in an arcing caress. “You haven’t had one that bad in some time.”
That’s true. During the month I’ve stayed here, the nightmares never went away, but in the past week or so, they’d lost some of their potency. The sense of Aerik and his cadre stalking me must have riled up those fears all over again.
I’m sure Sylas can connect those dots himself, so I simply say, “I know I don’t have to really worry. Here you are saving me from them even when they’re only in my head. Thank you for breaking me out of the dream.”
It isn’t the first time he’s called me out of one of those nightmares, and I doubt it’ll be the last.
His mouth twists. “I wish defeating our foes in reality were half as simple. But we will shield you. Are you all right now?”
My heartbeat has nearly evened out, and the suffocating sensation has faded from my lungs, but I hesitate at the thought of being alone again. Sylas takes that momentary silence as an answer in itself. Without another word, he stands and scoops me out of the bed, the covers falling away from my legs. His arms tuck me close to his broad chest, the rich earthy, smoky scent of him washing over me with his warmth.
“I’m okay,” I feel the need to clarify, even though it’s hard to want to be anywhere but nestled in his embrace now that I’m there.
The fae lord gives a low rumble that sounds amused. “But you could be better. You told me before you felt safer in my room than yours.”
As he strides out of the room and down the hall, carrying me as if I weigh nothing at all, the warmth condenses into a deeper heat at the thought of the things we did in his room the last time I slept there. The heat pools between my thighs, but I’m too groggy still to sort out whether I’d want to make some kind of move now and if so, what.
Is Sylas expecting something? Other than that night when he caressed me while encouraging me to take myself to a bodily release, we haven’t shared more than a few kisses.
When we enter his bedroom, I glance up at him, searching out his expression in the dim moonlight that drifts through his window. He meets my gaze.
“I do want you to sleep,” he says, setting to rest those anxious questions. “Sleep here where you know any enemy, real or imagined, will have to get through me to reach you.”
“And after I sleep?” I ask tentatively.
The curl of his lips brings out an ache low in my belly, the rumble of his low baritone only intensifying it. “We’ll see what tomorrow brings.” He brushes those lips to my forehead and lowers me onto the far side of the bed. “I’ll make no demands. When you’re sure of what you want, I’ll be more than happy to oblige.”
The heat flares in my cheeks, but as my head settles into the down pillow, sleep is already creeping back over me. Sylas lies down a couple of feet away from me and tugs the covers up over us. I scoot a little closer, not quite touching him but basking in his smoky warmth.
The last thing I’m aware of before exhaustion pulls me back under is the stroke of his fingers easing a few stray locks of my hair back from my face.
I wake up to bright sunlight and the impression of body heat fading from the mattress by my arm. As I rub my eyes, Sylas emerges from his private lavatory, his dark hair falling damp across his shoulders from a shower. He finishes securing the ties that close the sharp V neckline of his shirt and lifts his gaze to meet mine, that now-familiar smolder kindling in his unmarked eye.
“Back to work already?” I say, hoping I don’t sound too disappointed. I’m not sure if I was hoping for a repeat of the last morning I slept in his bed or even more, but I definitely wouldn’t have minded cuddling up to his brawny form while I was alert enough to fully appreciate it.
Sylas’s mouth twitches into a smile that holds a hint of apology. “One of the sentries reported evidence of intrusion near the borders. I want to take a look at it myself as soon as possible. Stay here and sleep as long as you like.”
He bends over the bed in a motion that’s almost a prowl and steals a kiss that’s quick but impassioned enough to leave me flushed all over. With the passion it rouses in me, I’m tempted to grab hold of his shirt and pull him right back into the bed, but he’s already drawing away with a purposeful air. Nothing will keep the fae lord from an urgent duty—and those duties are partly aimed at protecting me, so I can’t really complain.