Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

Out of the fog of nothingness, I felt . . . I felt fingers drifting along the sides of my neck and under the thick twist of my braid, along the back of my skull. The touch was featherlight, but warm— almost hot, moving in soothing, barely there circles. I felt the touch of something softer against my brow.

“Is she going to make it?” a man asked.

I didn’t recognize the voice, but I thought his had the same inflection of speech of the other Hyhborn’s. I couldn’t be sure, because I slipped into the nothingness again, and I didn’t know how long I stayed there. It felt like a small eternity before I became aware of that featherlight touch along my arm— a thumb moving in the same slow, gentle circles just above my elbow. The touch wasn’t hot this time, just comforting and . . . and disarming, stirring up a prickly sense of awareness I couldn’t make sense of. I was too warm and comfortable to even try. I heard that same voice again, sounding as if it were on the other end of a narrow tunnel.

The man spoke again. “Want me to sit with her until she wakes up?”

“Offer is appreciated, Bas, but I’m fine where I am.”

Some of the fog cleared then as that acute sense of awareness increased. That voice was closer, clearer. It was him. My Hyhborn lord who . . . What had happened? Flashes of memories broke through. The gardens full of softly glowing orbs. My intuition. Blood splattered along the pale blossoms—

“You sure?” Bas’s voice was louder now. “Your time is better spent elsewhere.”

“I know it is,” the Lord responded. “But I’m quite enjoying the peace and quiet.”

“And the scenery?” Bas remarked.

“That too.”

A low, rough chuckle came from this Bas, and then there was the silence of unconsciousness again, and I welcomed it, feeling . . . feeling cared for.

Safe.

So I let myself slip away.

Slowly, I became aware of a pleasant scent. A woodsy, soft one. I also became aware of my head resting on something firm, but not nearly as hard as the ground, and then the distant singing of night birds and insects. My heart kicked up. I was still in the gardens, lying half on cool grass, but my head was—

The thumb on my arm stilled. “I think you’re finally waking up, na’laa.”

My eyes fluttered open and my breath caught. The Lord’s face was above mine, cast mostly in shadow. Only a thin slice of moonlight cut through the canopy of limbs above us, glancing off his jaw and mouth.

He gave me a faint smile. “Hello.”

Bits of what had happened came back in an instant, propelling me into action. Jackknifing upright, I scurried onto my hands and knees, backing away several feet.

“You should know by now.” The Lord’s hands fell to his lap— the lap my head had been resting in. “That I’m not going to harm you.”

“You said you didn’t care if my neck was snapped,” I panted, arms and legs trembling with the rush of leftover adrenaline.

“That is what I said.”

I stared at the shadows of his face, dumbfounded. “I helped you last night and you let him take me— ”

“But I didn’t let him take you, now did I?” He crossed an ankle of one long leg over the other. “If I had, you wouldn’t be alive. He would’ve snapped your neck or ripped out your heart as he threatened.”

He had a point. I could recognize that, but the fear and anger, the sense of betrayal and the icy panic, were flooding my system, chasing away that strange and completely idiotic feeling of safety, of being cared for.

I lifted a shaking hand to my throat, still able to feel Muriel’s grip pressing in, bruising and crushing.

“Are you in pain?” the Lord asked.

“No.” I gently prodded the skin as I rocked back on my haunches. The skin there was a little tender, but nothing extreme, which made no sense. I clearly remembered falling— no, being thrown aside and my head hitting something hard, then sudden, violent pain before the nothingness. I lifted my gaze to the Lord once more, recalling the warmth of his touch and the brush of something softer against my forehead.

“Contrary to what I led the dearly departed Muriel to believe, and unfortunately, you to also think, I didn’t allow him to continue to use you as a shield,” he said. “I stopped him, and you were caught in the middle of that.”

The memory of something hard crashing into us— a flash of a hand landing on Muriel’s arm— rose. “He . . . he threw me.”

“Actually, that was me,” the Lord corrected. “I was attempting to get you to a safe distance. I may have done so a bit too enthusiastically.” His chin dipped, and the moonlight hit one high, sweeping cheekbone. “My apologies.”

My heart hammered as I lowered my hand to hover a few inches above the plush grass. A bit too enthusiastically? I remembered that feeling of weightlessness— of flying. He’d thrown me aside as if I weighed nothing more than a small child, and there was nothing small about me. I swallowed hard as I started to look around us.

“Muriel is no more,” the Lord shared.

That I figured. “There was another who was here. A . . . a Bas?”

“That was Bastian— Lord Bastian. He’s left,” he said. “We’re alone, na’laa.”

There was a skip in my breath. “I should be hurt. I should be . . .” I couldn’t bring myself to say it. That I should be dead. I sat back on my ass. Or fell on it, landing in a puddle of moonlight. “Did you . . . did you kiss me again?”

“Excuse me?”

“Heal me,” I clarified. “Did you heal me again?”

Across from me, the Lord uncrossed his ankles and drew one leg up. He lifted a shoulder. “I told you that na’laa means several things in my language.”

I blinked, pressing my hand into the grass. His unwillingness to answer my question didn’t pass by me. “I remember. You said it means ‘brave one.’ ”

“It does.” One arm dropped to rest on his bent knee. “It can also mean ‘stubborn one.’ ” There was a hint of a smile in his voice. “Which makes the nickname all the more fitting.”

My lips turned down at the corners. “And why would you think that?”

His fingers began to tap against the air. “Is that a serious question?”

“I’m not stubborn.”

“I beg to differ,” he said. “I clearly remember telling you to come to me. You didn’t. Then I told you not to move and you then ran.”

I stiffened, indignant. “I ran because I had just seen you put your hand into another’s chest and incinerate them.”

“But it was not your chest my hand went into, was it?” he countered.

“No, but— ”

“But you ran anyway,” he cut in. “Then when I told you to cease struggling since you would only harm yourself, you continued to do so.”

I couldn’t believe I had to explain any of this. “That’s because he was crushing my neck.”

“I wouldn’t have allowed that.”

“You had just said— ”

“That I didn’t care if he snapped your neck. I know what I said,” he interrupted. Again. “And I didn’t care about what he claimed, because I knew I would not allow that.”

“How was I supposed to know that?” I exclaimed.

“Well, you gave me aid last night. What would that make me if I allowed you to become hurt? Oh, I know. A bastard.”

My eyes narrowed.

“And because I’m a Deminyen,” he said, as if that meant anything. “And we are your protectors.” There was another pause. “Mostly.”

I squelched the laugh threatening to escape. Yes. Mostly. “Muriel was going to harm me. He was— ”

“Muriel was an idiot.”

Irritation loosened my tongue, but I caught myself, snapping my mouth shut. This was a Hyhborn lord I was speaking to and he wasn’t injured now.

His head tilted again. “You were going to say something?”

“No, I— ”

“Yes, you were.”

“Oh, my gods,” I snapped. “I was going to ask you to stop interrupting me; however, that would be impossible because you keep doing it, so I’m trying to be respectful.”

“Unlike . . . ?” Those fingers still danced at the air. “Unlike me?”

“You know? I think I liked you better when you didn’t have the energy to speak.”

“So, you liked me?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“That’s exactly what you said.”

“For fuck’s sake,” I hissed. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

The Lord laughed— and the sound was deep and . . . and nice. Unexpected. He hadn’t laughed like that last night. “Did you know that na’laa has another use? For one who is . . . outspoken?”

Stubborn? Outspoken? “I think I prefer the ‘brave’ meaning.”

“There is a fourth meaning,” the Lord added.

“This word of yours has a lot of meanings,” I muttered.

“Many,” he murmured. “But the fourth is also used to describe someone who is ungrateful. That is also rather fitting, don’t you think? I saved your life, and yet, you find me impolite.”

I gaped at him.

“And I also sat here and waited until you woke up, just to make sure you were okay. Watching over you. Even let you use my body as a pillow.” There it was again— the hint of the teasing smile I couldn’t see but heard in his voice. “I think that was quite polite of me, especially since I didn’t get to use your body as one last night.”

“I clearly recall you asking for my help last night,” I shot back. “Meanwhile, I didn’t ask you to do any of those things.”

“You would’ve helped even if I hadn’t asked,” he said, and I pressed my lips together. “Just as I did without you asking, even though I do have far more important things to attend to.”

Anger hit my blood in a hot rush, loosening that mouth. “If you have far more important things to do, no one is stopping you. Your presence is not needed nor welcomed, my lord.”

Those fingers stilled in the space above his knee as he shifted a little bit farther into the stream of moonlight. His mouth, the curve of his jaw, and his nose became more visible. His smile was wolfish.

My stomach hollowed as I became very still. There was a good chance I’d overstepped myself.

“You’re right, na’laa. I don’t need to be here,” he said, almost as softly as when he had spoken to the Hyhborn in those mere seconds before he ended their existence. “I want to be here.”

I felt it then. His gaze. Even though I couldn’t see his eyes, I could feel his stare drifting over my features, then down. A tingling wave of warmth followed.

“After all,” he said, voice thicker, smoother. “The scenery is quite lovely.”

I glanced down, seeing that the midnight-blue robe had come unbelted at some point and the ivory nightgown was visible underneath. It was basically translucent in the moonlight, leaving much of my breasts clearly visible beneath the wispy gown.

“I’m staring. I know,” the Lord said. “And I’m also aware of how impolite I’m being now.”

Slowly, I lifted my gaze to him. It was known that the Hyhborn enjoyed only two things equally. Violence and . . . and sex. I shouldn’t be surprised, especially when I had seen how he was the night before, but he was a Hyhborn lord, and now, with him uninjured and in the gardens, I . . . I was just some lowborn—

Come to think of it, what were he and the other two doing in these gardens? Hyhborn tended to interact with lowborn more freely and . . . intimately during the Feasts, even Hyhborn lords, but the Feasts were quite a ways off from beginning.

“Muriel?” I said. “He was the one I heard Finn and Mickie speak of.”

“He was.”

I dragged my teeth over my lower lip. “And Finn? Mickie?” There was a beat of silence. “The fires? That’s where they ended up?”

“I think you know the answer to that.”

I did. “How did you end up in the gardens?”

“I’d sent a message to Nathaniel to meet, knowing Muriel is never far from his brother,” he answered. “As luck would have it, this is where Nathaniel requested to meet.”

Then that had to mean the Hyhborn brothers were from Primvera.

“You said you liked those little balls of light?” he said, drawing me from my thoughts, and it took a moment for me to realize he was responding to what I’d said to him and Muriel. “I assume you were speaking of the sōls.”

“Souls?” I whispered, surprised enough to ask.

“Not souls of mortals.” That faint grin appeared again. “But sōls of all that is around you. The tree we sit beneath. The grass. The blooms of the wisteria currently in your hair.”

“Oh.” My hand lifted out of reflex. I ran my hand down my braid until I felt something soft and dewy. I pulled the petal free, cringing. “I didn’t know that.”

He chuckled again. The sound was still nice, which seemed completely at odds with, well, everything. “I’m sure the blossom was pleased to find itself being attached to such a lovely mortal. Though, I can think of far more interesting places I would’ve attached myself to.”

I blinked once.

Then twice.

And then my mind decided to take a quick jaunt where it shouldn’t go, conjuring up all those interesting places. A sudden aching twist curled deep in my stomach. I shifted on the grass, left unsteady by the intense pulse of desire— by yet another stark reminder of what he was.

“So, were you looking for the sōls?” the Lord questioned, lifting a hand. He made a soft humming noise— a gentle, melodic sound.

A heartbeat later, a buttery glow appeared in the tree above us, slowly descending through the branches and vines. Then another. And another. My lips parted. A little over a half dozen floated through the trees.

“You can call them to you?” I asked.

“Of course,” he answered. “We are a part of everything that surrounds us. They are a part of us.”

I watched as one of the sōls drifted above me. “They’re beautiful.”

“They appreciate you saying so.”

A brow rose. “They can understand me?”

“They can.” He lifted his chin, gesturing to one of the sōls. “See how their lights have grown brighter?”

I nodded.

“That’s how you know.”

“Oh.” My fingers tingled with the urge to reach out and touch one without the gloves, but I figured that was pushing it. I peeked at the Lord, wishing I could see more of his face. His eyes. But it was probably a blessing that I couldn’t at this point. “What . . . what is your name?”

“Thorne.”

There was a strange whooshing motion throughout my chest. After all these years, I finally had a name for him. I didn’t know how to think of that, but it felt strangely life-altering.

I cleared my throat. “I . . . I should probably be on my way.”

He inclined his head. “Probably.”

Relieved yet unnerved that he’d agreed, I rose.

“But I would be bereft if you did,” he added, and I seriously doubted that. “I have so many questions.”

I halted. “About?”

He stood so quickly, I hadn’t seen him move. One minute he was sitting and then he was standing. “About you, of course.”

My heart gave a sharp lurch. “There’s not much to know about me.”

“I cannot believe that’s true.” He was nearly in the shadows of the wisteria now, but somehow he seemed closer. “I’m willing to bet there is, starting with how we met.”

A fine shiver skated across the back of my skull and down my spine. The ground felt like it was shifting again. “How . . . how we met?”

“Tonight,” he clarified. “Is this how you normally spend your nights? Alone, chasing sōls when you’re not rescuing those in distress?”

“Yes,” I admitted. “I normally don’t travel this part of the gardens at night.”

“But tonight was different.”

I nodded, once again deciding to err on the side of half truth. “I heard voices and was concerned that something bad might happen.”

“So you decided to intervene? Again?” The surprise was evident in his voice. “With no weapon, and still, apparently no knowledge of how to defend yourself?”

My lips pursed. “I suppose so.”

There was a moment of silence. “Once more, you’ve proven just how brave you are.”

“I just . . . I just did what I thought was right.”

“And that often takes the most bravery, doesn’t it?”

I nodded, telling myself I needed to shut down this conversation. There was a whole slew of reasons why. It had to be late, but I hesitated. . . .

That smile of his appeared once more. The slight, tight curve of his lips, and again, there was a sharp, taut curl low in my belly. My mouth dried a little.

“I’m assuming you call Archwood Manor your home?” Lord Thorne asked, and although I hadn’t seen him move, he was closer.

I nodded. “I . . . I spend a lot of time in these gardens,” I shared, and I wasn’t even sure why except for the edgy nervousness that always led to me rambling. “That’s why you smelled catmint on me.”

“I wouldn’t have even entered them if it had not been for Nathaniel,” he said, head turning as he scanned the gardens. “Strange how that worked out.” His gaze returned to me. “With you.”

Yes, it was strange.

“I’m sorry about your . . .” Friends? It was obvious that neither Muriel nor Nathaniel had been a friend. “I’m sorry about what happened with them.”

His head turned back to mine as he went quiet. It was the same reaction he’d had the night before when I apologized for what was done to him.

I swallowed. “There’s something I’ve been wondering all day about Muriel. He set you up, didn’t he?”

Lord Thorne nodded.

“Why would a Hyhborn be involved in the shadow market?”

He was quiet for several moments. “That’s a good question. One I would like to know the answer to, but I do have another question for you.”

“What is that?”

One of the vines moved to the side as, this time, I saw him step forward. He hadn’t touched the vine, but as he’d said, he was part of the realm in a way lowborn could never be. “How did you spend your day wondering why a Hyhborn would be involved in the shadow market when you did not know until tonight that he was a Hyhborn?”

Shit.

My heart tripped over itself. “I . . . I just assumed he was.” My thoughts raced. “You said you were to meet him at the Twin Barrels. I figured it would be another Hyhborn.”

“Ah.” Another wisteria stem spun without his touch. “It should be I who apologized, for what you had to witness and experienced these last two nights. I’m sure that’s not something you see every day.”

“I . . . I wasn’t expecting to find Hyhborn on the verge of killing one another.”

He let out a dry laugh. “You may be surprised to know that isn’t all that uncommon an occurrence.”

My brows rose. I was surprised. Then again, I knew little of what occurred in the Hyhborn Courts.

“You must think I’m a monster now?”

“No, that hasn’t changed. I mean, he was going to stab you, which seemed like a really poorly thought-out decision based on how that turned out for him. And well, Muriel was going to kill me, so fuck him,” I went on, flushing at his low chuckle. “Why did he set you up?”

“Besides the fact he was a fool? He was scared.”

“Of?”

“Me.” One of the sōls moved over his shoulder, nearly grazing mine as it passed us by. “So, he thought it best to have me dealt with.”

I didn’t really know Lord Thorne at all, but he didn’t strike me as the type one attempted to force into anything. “I guess both were making more than one poorly thought-out choice tonight.”

“You’ve guessed right.” His fingers drifted over one of the wisteria stems once more.

However, it seemed to me that it was more than Muriel just being afraid of Lord Thorne. Granted, that would be enough reason for most, but they’d spoken in those brief moments as if they were alluding to something else— something that was likely not my business, but I was curious.

“Well, I . . . I hope you find whatever it is you were looking for,” I told him, and his head tilted again. “It sounded like you were looking for something that he claimed to have information on.”

“Yes, but now I’m not sure if he spoke the truth or not.”

I started to ask what it was that would possibly anger the King, but Lord Thorne touched a wisteria blossom, drawing my gaze as his fingers drew them down the length of the vine, not dislodging a single blossom.

Another sōl appeared, joining the other as they floated over us, casting enough light that when Lord Thorne turned his head toward me fully, I finally saw his face clearly once more.

A tingling sensation started at the base of my neck and spread throughout the entirety of my body as my gaze lifted to the golden-brown hair brushing against powerful shoulders and a throat the color of warm sand.

As a young girl, I’d found him to be beautiful and terrifying.

And that hadn’t changed.

A lock of hair fell across his cheek as an eyebrow a shade or two darker than that wavy lock of hair rose. “Are you all right?”

I gave a small jerk. “Yes. I’m just tired. It’s been a strange two nights.”

He stared at me for a moment. “That it has.”

I swallowed. “I think I . . . I need to return to the manor.”

Lord Thorne was silent, watching me closely. Intently.

Heart thumping, I took another step back. “I appreciate that you made sure I . . . I didn’t die back there and, um, that you watched over me.”

His head straightened. “So, you are appreciative of the aid you didn’t ask for?”

“Of course— ” I cut myself off, seeing the teasing lift of his lips. “You still didn’t have to.”

“I know.”

I held his stare for a moment, then nodded. “Good night,” I whispered.

I started to turn away.

“Na’laa?”

I twisted toward him, gasping as I jerked back, bumping into a nearby wisteria. Lord Thorne stood less than a foot before me, the trailing blossoms behind him still, completely undisturbed. I hadn’t even heard him move. He towered over me in the darkness of the tree, blocking out all traces of moonlight. My hands fell to my sides, palms pressing against the rough bark.

“There is something I must ask of you before you go,” he said.

The shallow breath I took was full of his woodsy, soft scent. What was that scent? I jolted at the unexpected touch of his hands on my shoulders. “What?”

“What you saw here tonight?” His hands coasted down my arms. The touch was light, but immediately sent my pulse racing. He reached my wrists. “With Muriel and Nathaniel? Do not speak of it.”

I shivered as his hands slid to my hips. The nightgown was no barrier against the warmth of his palms. His touch . . . it felt branding. “O-Of course.”

“To anyone,” he insisted, his hands leaving my hips and going to the halves of my robe. I sucked in a heady gasp of air as his knuckles brushed the curve of my stomach. He folded the robe closed, then found the sash.

I held my breath as he tied the sash just below my breasts. “I won’t.”

Remaining completely still as he finished with the sash, I felt my pulse pound as he then took ahold of my wrist and lifted it to his mouth. I couldn’t move. It wasn’t fear or distress that held me in place, and it should be.

Yet I wasn’t afraid.

It was . . . was an emotion I couldn’t name or describe as he turned my hand over, pressing his lips to the center of my palm, just as he had done the night before. The feel of his lips against my skin was a shock to the senses. They were soft and gentle, yet firm and unyielding, and when he lowered my hand, his breath traced the curve of my cheek until our mouths were mere inches apart.

Was he going to kiss me?

For one chaotic moment, an array of sensations assailed me— disbelief and wanting, panic and yearning. My heart hammered in confusion. I didn’t want to be kissed by a Hyhborn lord, especially one who currently felt vaguely threatening.

But I didn’t turn my head away when his breath danced over my lips. I knew in that moment what I’d discovered several times throughout my life: there had to be something seriously wrong with me. My eyes started to drift shut—

A cool wind kissed the nape of my neck.

Lord Thorne stilled.

Eyes opening, I felt that chill travel across my body. The night birds no longer sang. The entire garden was eerily silent, and as I glanced around, I saw that even the sōls seemed to have abandoned the area as that earlier feeling returned— the icy thickening of the air.

“Return to your home.” Lord Thorne’s voice was cooler and harder, falling against my skin like frozen rain. “Do so quickly, na’laa. There are things moving in the garden now that will find your flesh as tasty as I find it lovely.”

My stomach lurched. “Will you be okay?”

Lord Thorne stilled, and I supposed my question had rendered him speechless. It had also shocked me. Why would I be worried when I’d seen him incinerate another Hyhborn? Or why would I even care if he was okay? Because he had helped Grady and me once before? It felt like more than that, though.

“Of course,” he promised. “You need to hurry.” His hand firmed against my neck, then he let go.

I stumbled back, heart thundering. I opened my mouth—

“Go, na’laa.”

Trembling, I backed away and then I turned— I turned and ran, unsure of what unsettled me more. If it was the sounds of heavy wings beating at the night sky or if it was the inexplicable feeling that I shouldn’t be running.

That I should be standing at his side, facing what was coming.