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I opened my mouth, but I…I hadn’t asked.
Nektas eyed me. “When Ash decided to honor the deal his father made, he didn’t want to force any of the responsibilities of being a Consort—something he knew you never agreed to—onto you. If he’d learned you were interested, I’m sure he would’ve volunteered whatever information you wanted to know. Instead, he learned that you never had any intention of fulfilling that deal either. That you had other plans.”
My jaw snapped shut.
“Even though he understands what drove you and accepts it, why would he think you wanted to know these things when it was just recently that you told him you wanted to be of use?”
“Okay, you have made a lot of valid points,” I admitted, my cheeks warming at the truth in most of what he’d said. “But there is no way he has truly forgiven me.”
“I never said he has. I said he understands, and I’ll tell you the same thing I told him when he was much younger. Forgiveness benefits the forgiver, and it’s easy. Understanding is acceptance, and that is far harder.” His gaze held mine as Jadis gave a little wiggle. “And if Ash didn’t understand and accept your past actions, you would not be where you are right now. You would not carry his scent on your body, and I would’ve never sensed what I did when I found him with you.”
“What did you sense?” I whispered, my heart stomping in my chest.
“What I sensed before.” That odd little half-grin returned. “Peace.”
Chapter 20
Wrapped in the fur I’d left Nyktos’s chambers in, I ran a hand over the soft blouses and sweaters hanging in the wardrobe, the leggings as thick as breeches, pants like the ones Nyktos and the others often wore made of soft leather, and vests, tunics, and gowns as silky as the array of undergarments I’d discovered in one of the drawers. There were so many colors, both pastels and vivid shades, and they were all mine. If the clothing Erlina had finished was any indication of her talent and taste, the coronation gown would be stu
Peace.
My heart started that wild staccato again as I dropped the fur and picked up an undergarment that seemed to be designed to cover as little of my private bits as possible. I started to pull on the scrap of lace, freezing when I laid eyes on said private bits.
Through the dusting of pale, fine hair, I saw that the skin Nyktos’s fangs had sunk into was red, but there were no puncture wounds. I pressed my fingers to the flesh, feeling the two shallow indentations. Frowning, I lifted my hand to the side of my neck, where the bite had already faded. It had taken a couple of days for the marks on my neck and breast to fade, but hours for this one? That didn’t make sense. Had something been different?
Making a note to ask him about it later, I tugged the new dressing robe from the hanger and pulled on the plush material dyed a dark blue-gray. Fastening the buttons along the side of my waist, I went over to the balcony doors. The sky above the crimson woods was a darker shade of iron, the stars brighter and plentiful but not as vivid as when night had fallen. However, it could not be much longer until it was night—a few hours, if that.
More tired than I should’ve been after napping, I retreated to the chaise and snuggled deep into the soft material of the robe after taming my hair into a braid. What Nektas had said entered my thoughts. Not the stuff that had to do with peace, but the part that I knew Nektas had been right about.
I hadn’t given Nyktos any real indication that I was interested in anything beyond what he pla
And, gods, now I felt like an ass because before Nyktos had learned the truth, he’d given me space because he hadn’t wanted me to feel overwhelmed. It was very likely that he’d been doing the same now, waiting for me to give some sort of indication that I wanted to be an actual Consort…outside of the bedchamber.
In my defense, there hadn’t been any reason to think of a future until recently. But still, I cringed all the way to the tips of my toes. And I closed my eyes as I tried to figure out exactly how to make it very clear to Nyktos that I was interested in learning more about Lethe and the Shadowlands. Asking seemed simple enough, but I’d spent more time learning how to kill someone than understanding the basics of open, honest communication. Or how to overcome this…feeling of vulnerability that came with being open. I wasn’t even sure if it was normal to worry about asking or saying the wrong thing like I often did. Or that I couldn’t get my thoughts, which sounded so right in my head, to come out of my mouth the same way. Would it sound silly? Would whatever I said come back to haunt me? To hurt?
Talking things out always sounded easy, but the anxiety that the mere idea of it drummed up also seemed insurmountable.
But did I want to be…more? Not just his Consort but a real Consort to the Shadowlands?
As I lay there, asking myself that over and over, I must’ve drifted off. The next thing I knew, I felt a warmth buzzing in my chest. I opened my eyes, startled to find Nyktos crouched by the chaise.
“I was begi
“Sorry.” I cleared my throat, sitting up as I glanced down to where his hand rested between his knees. My cheek still tingled from the touch. “I can’t believe I fell asleep again.”
Concern pinched his features as his gaze swept over mine. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine.” I rubbed at the back of my neck, working at the kink there.
“No signs of a headache or any jaw pain?”
I shook my head, dropping my hand to the chaise. “I guess I’m just tired.”
That worry seemed to increase in his stare. “I shouldn’t have…”
“What?” I asked when he didn’t finish.
“I shouldn’t have taken from you earlier,” he said, his eyes meeting mine. “I should’ve known better—”
“I didn’t mind,” I cut in.
“I know you didn’t.” The eather pulsed behind his pupils as his voice roughened, sending a shiver over my skin. “But that’s beside the point. I didn’t take a lot from you, but the Culling already takes enough of a toll on your body. If you do start to have a headache, I want you to tell me. We can stop it from getting as bad as before.”
“I will.” I didn’t want to feel that kind of pain again. “So, I wasn’t imagining the whole biting me part then?”
His head cocked. “No.”
“I have questions about that.”
Two deep splotches appeared in the center of his cheeks as his shoulders tightened. “You do?”
I nodded as I watched the blush spread across his face, thinking how cute it was. “There was no bite mark left behind…”
The tension eased from him. “That’s because I closed the wounds.”
My brows shot up. “Come again?”
“I closed the wounds,” he repeated. “With my tongue.”
I vividly recalled the hot, slick slide of his tongue as he’d eased his fingers from me. Now, my cheeks warmed. “How is that possible?”
“I nicked my lip and drew my blood,” he explained, the color of his eyes deepening. “Just a drop was on my tongue when I ran it over the wounds. So, in reality, my blood healed them.”
“Oh,” I whispered, suddenly finding the soft robe far too thick and heavy. “Why didn’t you do that before?”
“My blood will only heal the bite I created. I couldn’t remove traces of Taric’s bite without you drinking from me, and that would’ve required more than just a drop.” His jaw hardened. “But before that? After I bit you?” He frowned. “I don’t know why I didn’t.”