“Is that thing supposed to be our dinner?”
I jumped, resisting the urge to clamp my fist over the creature. Those tiny butterfly wings fluttered in agitation before the lizard released a sigh of fiery air, then settled into my palm once more. I moved my hand to my lap to steady the animal’s perch. Then I looked up at Tarik with narrowed eyes.
“No, who would eat such a beautiful creature?”
He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “Probably Caspar. He’d eat Callie, if he was hungry enough.” He suddenly frowned. “Hopefully I find her in one piece when we return. The fugitives didn’t have much food when we left.” Grimacing, he settled on the rock next to me and picked up the makeshift fishing pole. “So, did you catch anything that won’t burn the roof of your mouth?”
“A couple bass, but they’re definitely not enough to feed you and Caspar.” The little lizard crept up to my shoulder and apprehensively surveyed Tarik.
Tarik jiggled the line aggressively and I reached out, showing him how to correctly lure in a fish. “When did you learn how to do this?”
I grinned. “There used to be a koi pond in the mansion. Mordecai kept it well stocked, and between lessons one day, I got bored. Man oh man . . . he was furious when he noticed all of his prized fish floundering around on the marble. He had it covered, but the hole is still there under the tiles.”
Incredulous, his eyes swung my way, then he burst out laughing. “Wish I could have seen that.” After a moment, he quieted, his gaze softening. “Despite the circumstances, I’m glad you came. And that I get to spend this moment with you.”
“Me too.” I rested my hand on his knee. With everything I had been through lately, I was starting to realize the value of time . . . and the quality of people you spend it with.
—
Drowning.
I was drowning, the air sucked from my lungs, my body lit with agony. I tried to free myself from the icy water, but a heavy weight pressed down on my throat. Icy blue eyes met mine and I jolted upright with a gasp.
The hand at my throat was my own—not the Great Dragon’s.
A nightmare, then. My heart thundered behind my ribs, my breaths coming in staggered bursts. I pulled in a ragged gasp before the tears came. Terror filled my shaking body. My dreams were always about the Fae, about my failures at the Safehouse. I floated through them like I was watching a movie, helpless, as each death replayed. Every loss roared through me afresh.
My fault.
I shook myself, laid back down. This one felt different. Intense. Personal, more real. Drowning was a nightmare all my own, not one born from the slaughter at the dragon’s hands. The terror didn’t want to leave, trickling through my veins. My senses sat on high alert.
Nevaeh’s breathing was uneven—I didn’t for a second believe she was still asleep. The thought only made me feel worse. When I swallowed, my throat ached. I tried to settle, to relax and focus my breathing. But when I closed my eyes, there were those blue ones again, and the fading light of the water threatened to overwhelm me once more. Resigned, I sat up, then wiped at the fresh tears on my cheeks. I rested my forehead on my knees.
What if Nevaeh was right? What if Fae blood and shifter blood was a toxic combination? Maybe I was a ticking time bomb waiting to explode into a lion and ravage my friends.
My stomach clenched.
Sebastian was on watch tonight. I could relieve him, let him rest more—I wasn’t going to sleep anyway. But a thought tugged at the back of my mind. A reminder of my weakness in the forest, of the gasps that had seized my lungs from sprinting a few short feet. I needed sleep. And there was still an option I hadn’t explored, one I had been vehemently resisting.
I wasn’t good at asking for help.
My gaze slid to Nevaeh. Her breathing had slowed back into slumber. At the very least, I could give her a night of peace. Maybe more, if . . .
I swallowed.
The thought of going to Tarik made every inch of my being scream in resistance. My reluctance had nothing to do with him—or maybe everything. With Tarik, I felt safe, and safe scared me. Safe was where everything tended to go wrong. Safe meant I wasn’t as guarded, as cautious. And when I was off my guard, people ended up hurt. I ended up hurt.
But Tarik . . . Every time I met those brilliant green eyes, a fire blazed to life. He burned with passion, be it for the fight or the Fae, or . . .
Or in the fierce way he protected those he cared about. And maybe . . .
Maybe I needed some of that fire back in my own life. Maybe I needed to let him help me, to burn away some of the darkness. Because I was drowning, in another sense of the word. I needed to swallow my pride and admit that I needed help. And from the only person who might possibly understand—and, more importantly, from a person I knew wanted to understand.
I took a long, slow breath before quietly climbing to my feet. Sebastian glanced up the moment I stepped out, eyes narrowed and mouth slipping open. But he scanned my face, caught sight of my red, swollen eyes, and his jaw snapped shut. He motioned toward the tent he shared with Tarik. My heart thundered, and a weight settled in my stomach, but I moved. I cleared the gap and slipped into the tent before I had a chance to rethink.
“Tarik?” I whispered into the dark.
“Thank Gaia,” he breathed softly, sitting up without hesitation. I paused. Had he already been awake? Tarik’s gaze ran the length of me before capturing mine, his stare so intense, a fresh tear tracked down my cheek. His brows pinched together with concern and—understanding. “Please come here. I can’t take this anymore.”
I went to him, my bare-footed steps slow, reluctant. Firelight snuck in the gap behind me, shimmering orange in his emerald eyes, and my breath caught. Tarik leaned forward and snagged my wrist, gently pulling me down beside him. I stared at his chest, avoiding eye contact, yanking anxiously at my lip ring.
His fingers joined mine and, as he swept his thumb over my bottom lip, I blinked up at him. He audibly swallowed, raising his eyes from where they had been glued to my mouth. “I can . . . I can help you. Or at least try.” His thumb moved, gliding over my cheek and wiping away the remnants of that lone tear. “Will you let me?”
The warmth of his touch seeped into my skin, relaxing and tensing me all at once. I nodded mutely, the nerves that shivered through me devouring my words.
“Thank Gaia,” he said again, sighing with relief. “I’m exhausted.”
My brow drew together but, before I could question him, he laid down, bringing me with. In the span of a single breath, I was pressed to his side, my hand resting directly over his heart. My muscles coiled tightly, tense even as my body hummed with contentment.
“Relax.” The deep sound rumbled in my ear as he soothed a hand down my back. “Close your eyes.”
As soon as I did, tendrils of his unique magic trailed over my skin, sinking into my veins and stirring my blood. A quiet sigh slid from my lips and he tucked me closer to him, threading his fingers into my hair. For several minutes, I basked in the silence. The closeness. Allowed him to test his healing magic on me.
Even if the magic couldn’t heal what was broken inside of me, being wrapped in his arms like this—letting him comfort me—was enough to lull me to sleep.
—