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My thoughts race as I lead Violence back through the secret tunnel into Basgiath. Not only did she bond with Tairn, but she bonded with a fucking two-year old feathertail with the ability to stop time. Just when I thought she couldn't be any more incredible, she goes and blows my mind, again. Not to mention the fact that she was almost killed just an hour ago and was willing to go down fighting one against six. My blood boils at the memory, and I wish I could kill all her would-be assassins again.
She's slowing down, and I see that she's in pain, but I know she won't complain. I try to match my pace to hers while I consider what I have to do tomorrow. I want to get my hands around Mavis's throat now, but without a public accusation, everyone will just think I murdered a fellow wingleader for no reason. I'll need proof, and telling the world that I can read it in her mind is not an option.
Violence is still silent and hasn't said a word to me since she told me it was Amber who let the unbonded into her room. It's out of character for her to be this quiet, but she has a lot to process. Shit, I have a lot to process too. Like how I'm going to be able to protect her all day, every day from here on out.
We're back inside, and she starts to turn toward the first-year wing, but I grab her hand to redirect her. Is physical contact necessary? No. Am I dying for any excuse to touch her again after holding her hand on our way out of Basgiath an hour ago? Maybe. Fuck, what's wrong with me?
She looks up at me with questioning eyes, and godsdamn, those eyes are the most stunning I've ever seen. “Not that way,” I say. I lead her to the third-year floor, still not dropping her hand. It's so small in my own palm, warm and soft too. Soft like the rest of her skin, from what I got to only just brush tonight while examining her wounds. Soft like her hair as I pulled it to the side to see her injuries. I can't get the feel of her out of my head, and I barely touched her. Gods, what would it be like to sink into her, to surround myself with her softness?
“Is this really all you think about?” Sgaeyl is apparently not asleep yet in the Vale like I expected.
“Don't you have some secrets to keep?” I respond.
“You're one to talk .” She has me there. I slam my shield up before she can say more. I don't need any more of her comments tonight.
I don't let Violence go until we're at my door, and I unlock it with a flick of my wrist.
“Why are we here?” She asks. She's peering into my room with curiosity, and I just thank the gods I put away my dirty clothes before making the weapons run tonight with Garrick and Bodhi.
“You're not staying in your room tonight. Not until I can get it safe. And you're definitely not going to be alone.” I step over the threshold and wait for her to follow. She doesn't.
“I don't need to stay in your room. There are only a few more hours until sunrise anyway. No one's going to attack me again tonight,” she says. I'm tempted to just throw her over my shoulder and haul her inside, but pissing her off isn't going to help anything.
“There's dozens more unbonded out there who still want you dead. You're at the top of Barlowe's hit list, and your room has a big puddle of blood in it. Get inside.” Garrick and the crew are probably done cleaning up the scene, but the rest of my argument still stands. She isn't going to be alone tonight. Frankly, she's never going to be alone again.
She seems to consider what I'm saying and finally sees sense. She comes inside and I shut and lock the door behind her with my lesser magic.
“Cozy,” she says, taking in my stark decor.
“What can I say, I've always been interested in interior design. Make yourself comfortable. You can still get a few more hours of sleep,” I nod toward the bed.
“Are you serious? There’s no way I’m going back to sleep tonight. I don’t think I’ll ever sleep again,” she says, but she removes her cloak and drapes it across my chair anyway. I can’t help it, I find myself staring at her body in her thin nightgown. Her hair falls wild down her back, and I’d do just about anything to run my fingers through it. Gods, she is gorgeous, and she has no idea what she’s doing to me right now, just standing there with her mouth slightly open. I snap out of it before she calls me out for ogling.
“Your room will be protected by tomorrow night, so don’t worry about that. And right now you should try to relax. Being tired isn’t going to help you stay on Tairn tomorrow during your flight lessons.” I raise an eyebrow, daring her to argue with me. But she knows it’s true, so she sits and begins to untie her boots. I see her struggle with the knot and realize I tied it too tight. Without even thinking about it, I’m suddenly down on my knees before her for the second time tonight. “Let me,” I tell her, and she drops the laces and allows me to untie them.
“What kind of knot is that?” She asks. I raise my eyes to hers as I slip her first foot out of the boot, holding her calf in one of my hands. She’s so small, but I can feel the hardness of her muscle under her skin. Her training with Imogen is going well.
Staring up at her in this position immediately fills my cock with blood. It would be so easy to pry her thighs apart and stay here the rest of the night, worshiping her with my mouth until she couldn’t even cry my name anymore. If only she’d let me.
I clear my throat and start on the other boot.
“It’s Tyrrish,” I say and leave it at that. I slide her foot out and no longer have any excuse to be kneeling at her feet. I rise, turning quickly toward my armoire to hide my erection. I busy myself inside it, pushing my hangers this way and that. I feel so fucking stupid, like I’m a teenager again, but she doesn’t seem to be paying attention. Instead, she’s holding her side and wincing. She sees me noticing.
“It hurts,” she says, and I appreciate that she’s not trying to act tough. “I think it might help to take this vest off. Do you mind…?” She trails off and gestures to her back. Is she trying to torture me?
I take a few steps over to her, and she slips out of the sleeves of her nightgown again, holding the fabric to her breasts for a modicum of modesty. I untie her corset and focus on being completely nonchalant about it. I ignore how her skin feels like fucking velvet under my fingertips, and I definitely don’t hold my breath as more and more of her is exposed. Finally, the garment is off and her bare back glows under my single illuminated mage light. It’s pale and unblemished, and I have to actively stop myself from running a finger down her exposed vertebrae.
She adjusts, shaking the corset so it falls to the ground as she gets her nightgown back on. “Thanks.” The gown is so thin, and she's wearing nothing under it. The tear in the fabric from the sword shifts dangerously high with each swing of her arms. It's only inches away from exposing her breast, and I swallow.
She’s making her way to my bed, running her hand absentmindedly along the top blanket. “Which side do you sleep on?”
Her question catches me off guard and I almost stumble over my words. “The middle.”
She turns to me and raises an eyebrow. “Even when you, you know, have bedmates?” Is she flirting again? Is that what’s happening here?
“My bedmates don’t spend the night,” I say. Not that I’ve fucked anyone since I broke off the betrothment with Cat over the summer. And even then, I never actually slept in the same bed with her, or any other woman, once we were finished having sex.
Violence mumbles something that sounds a lot like, “It figures” under her breath, but I ignore it.
“I’m a right-side-of-the-bed kind of woman,” she continues, pulling the blankets back. She slides under them, and fuck, I would never get tired of this sight. Her hair is falling onto the pillow around her head, the silver tips hidden as she adjusts the covers around her body and makes herself comfortable. I finally have Violence in my bed. But I have to keep my hands to myself.
She picks up the pillow next to her and holds it out to me. “Here you go. Do you have an extra blanket?”
I see her train of thought, and I can’t help it, I smirk. “You don’t think I’ll be sleeping on the floor at your feet, do you, Violence?”
Her face drops. “You’re not seriously thinking we’ll be sharing the bed?” She looks deeply offended, like I just set her favorite book on fire.
“That’s exactly what I’m thinking,” I grin wider at the shocked look on her face. “This is my room. My bed.” My woman , I think. I slam that thought down, not even sure where the fuck it came from. Violence isn’t mine. Sure, I want to fuck her senseless, keep her safe, listen to her brilliant thoughts, and see her fiery spirit every day. But that doesn’t mean I want her in any kind of romantic way.
Sgaeyl is back in my mind, and she’s laughing in her weird dragon way. I send a thousand middle fingers to her through our bond.
Violence grits her teeth, but she slams my pillow back into its spot. “Fine,” she spits. “But stay on top of the covers.”
“I don’t usually take orders in my own bed,” I say. I kick off my own boots and make my way to the opposite side she’s sleeping on.
“That’s because you’re a selfish lover,” she snaps, turning her back to me. Gods, I love it when she has an attitude.
“I haven’t had any complaints. Maybe you just haven’t been with someone who knows what they’re doing.” I take my spot on the bed and sit up against the headboard. She half turns and opens her mouth, but stops herself from replying. I want so badly to read her intention, to figure out what she would have said back, but I hold off. Lately, I’ve been trying not to read her. I don’t think she would like it if she knew I was violating her thoughts like that. And for some fucking reason, I care about respecting her like that now.
“Goodnight, Riorson,” she grumbles.
“Goodnight, Violence,” I say, smirking again. I double-check that I have a dagger on my nightstand and put out the magelight.
Even though I told her she needs to sleep, I won’t be taking my own advice. She’s the safest she’ll ever be at Basgiath here with me, but I’m still not going to risk closing my eyes.
There’s so much to think about tonight–the weapons run that now feels like a lifetime ago, killing half a dozen people, the conversation with Tairn and Sgaeyl, Mavis… but the only thing I can focus on is the woman next to me in my bed.
The first woman to ever share my bed. I’m trying to tell myself that this is all for her benefit. I’m protecting her. But deep down, I know I am fucking selfish. I could have dropped her back off at her room and put up wards tonight. I could have paced the hall outside her door for hours in case another potential killer showed up. But I wanted her here with me. I shove that fact down to be evaluated at another time.
The moon is lighting the room just enough so that I can see her small form taking shaky breaths only inches from me. She’s still in pain and likely will be for days. I can’t see the bruises around her neck, but I know they’re there, and I wish again that I had killed them all slower.
I fight the urge to pull her body into mine, wrapping my arms, my shadows, my everything around her. I don’t know why, but I just know she’d fit so perfectly curled against me.
Fuck, I’m going to spend the entire night ignoring my erection pressing painfully against my pants.
I don’t know how much time goes by as I watch her sleep. I’m mesmerized by her peacefulness, the constant up and down of her chest. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since I saw my father for the last time.
Just when I’m about to spiral down the rabbit hole that is my grief for my father, she makes a soft cry. I see her breathing become more uneven as she emits another whimper, louder this time. I have a sense of helplessness as I scoot closer to her–is she in pain? Dreaming? I’m a hair’s breadth away from pressing my body against her back. I can feel her warmth even through the blankets as I shift upwards to examine her face. She’s grimacing, her brows are furrowed, and her lips are moving silently. Her whole body suddenly shudders and she cries out again.
I don’t think, I just place my hand on her shoulder, the only place I’m sure won’t hurt her.
“Violet,” I whisper. She cries again and I rub her arm. “Shh, Violence, it’s just a nightmare.” I didn’t even know I was capable of being this gentle. She moans and suddenly thrashes, turning so she’s on her back. I remove my hand, unsure of where to touch her that won’t cause her pain. She has a lock of hair stuck to her mouth, and I carefully brush it away, grazing her face and tucking it behind her ear.
“Xaden,” she breathes my name so quietly I’m not even sure I heard it. Her eyes remain shut, but two lines form between her eyebrows as she frowns. She whispers, “It hurts.”
I can’t help it, my heart fucking tumbles out of my chest. It’s almost instinctive the way I pull her to me then--like I can take the pain away with just my touch. She nestles into me now, her forehead pressing against my chest. So, so carefully, I tighten my arm around her, avoiding her ribs. I tilt my face down, and I’m overwhelmed by the scent of her hair. The strands tickle my nose and stick to the stubble on my chin.
She smells so good, and she’s so warm in my arms. I’m drunk on the sensation of her frame against mine. She has a hand by her face, and her fingers grip my shirt. I hear another muffled cry, and I don’t even know what comes over me. I’m just whispering “shhh” into the top of her head, my lips brushing her scalp every so lightly. I rub her back, but I guess it’s more of a caress because of how careful I’m trying to be with her. I’ve never caressed in my entire life.
After a few minutes, she seems to fall back into a deep sleep again. I don’t know how that’s possible considering how fast and loud my heart is pounding right next to her ear. I don’t stop the movements I’m making with my hand. Just up and down, over and over, but slow, so I don’t jostle her awake.
I’ve never held a woman in my arms like this without fucking her at the same time. I could easily get addicted to the non-sexual pleasure it’s giving me, even if the general’s daughter is the absolute last person on the planet I should fall for. I’m dizzy from the way she’s making me feel, my stomach is flipping and my heart is caught in my throat, and all she’s doing is laying there. She has no idea the effect she has on me.
And she never will. After tonight, I’m going back to my aloof facade when it comes to all things Sorrengail. I promised her mother I would protect her, and now that I’m bound to her, my life literally depends on keeping her alive. There can’t be anything more between us. I can’t risk getting close to her and then losing it all once she finds out the truth about me. I’m just not a man who deserves love, especially from someone as good as Violet.
But for these last moments, before the sun rises, I let myself just pretend. I savor. I memorize. Her body heat, her scent, her little breaths against my chest--it's all going in a compartment in my mind where I keep my most precious memories. My parents in the summer, picnicking on my favorite hillside in Aretia. My mother wrapping me in the blanket she made while tucking me into bed. Sneaking chocolate cake from the kitchen with Bodhi before a holiday dinner with our families. And now precious Violence, sleeping soundly in my arms.
I just barely close my eyes, but when I open them, dawn is already streaming through my window. There's a rap rap rap at my door. I give myself three heartbeats longer with Violence before I untangle myself from her. I'm careful to avoid pulling her hair as it spills onto my pillow. I stand and stretch, then quietly unlock the door and sneak into the hallway. Garrick eyes my socked feet, my wrinkled clothes from last night, then the closed door behind me. He puts it together instantly, and I sometimes hate that my best and oldest friend knows me so well.
“Sorrengail?” He asks.
“It's not what you think. This was the safest place for her,” I cross my arms.
His eyebrows can't rise any farther. “Right. No comment. Strike that; one comment–there's a first-year in your bed.”
“Again, it's not like that. Nothing happened.” But I refuse to elaborate. Garrick always seems to see right through me, especially when it comes to my attraction to Violence. I fill him in on what she told me about Mavis, and he agrees to bear witness this morning at formation. He takes off to let Bodhi know what the plan is but gives me a knowing look before he leaves. He’s shaking his head as he walks away.
Violence is awake and tying her corset up when I come back into my room. She's right, she is freakishly flexible, and I file that fact away for future nefarious fantasies. She gives me a glance, and I'm startled by the ring of dark purple bruises around her neck that are brutal-looking in the sunlight.
“I better get back to my room so I can dress before anyone sees me up here,” she says.
“I can take you there,” I reply, picking up my discarded boots.
“I can take myself.” She's done with the corset and slipping her own boots on. She's brushing me off, and I get it. There's nothing between us, physical attraction maybe, but mostly she just can't stand me.
“You should get to a healer,” I observe her struggling to bend to tie her laces and know that her ribs must be killing her.
“It's on my list of things to do today, yes,” she says sarcastically. I'm not trying to hover like Aetos; I just want any excuse to keep talking to her. To keep her here for only a minute longer, before she leaves, and the spell is broken, and we're back to throwing glares and middle fingers.
Her boots are on and she swings her cloak around her shoulders.
“Only Garrick is up out there right now. He won't say anything about you being in here,” I say.
“Got it,” she says. And then she's gone, strutting out into the hall like last night was nothing.
And I feel so fucking stupid because of course it was nothing. I push whatever these unfamiliar feelings I'm having deep, deep down and get control of myself. I reach out to Sgaeyl.
“ Is Tairn ready?”
“He's eager to enact justice,” she purrs.
Good. I consider collapsing face-first into my pillows and inhaling her scent until there's nothing left. But that isn't something someone with no romantic feelings would do. So I don't.
Sgeayl mutters, “We'll see if that denial still holds up when you go to sleep in those same sheets this evening.”
I ignore her. But I know she's right.
Fuck.