Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 205594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1028(@200wpm)___ 822(@250wpm)___ 685(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 205594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1028(@200wpm)___ 822(@250wpm)___ 685(@300wpm)
He moves back to the fire as I fold my arm up and hug it to my chest. “I’ve been boiling these before using them, like your instructions say. Your nurse is quite thorough.”
“She’s wonderful,” I agree, feeling pleasantly lightheaded with the medicine.
“If I may ask…you have plenty of supplies for your medicine. Why is it that you were so ill?” He glances over at me. “Was it a protest of some kind?”
As if I’d be that foolish. I shake my head. “No protest. I’m too fond of living. I was stretching the doses I had left because I’d run out of firewood. That’s why I had a slight fit”—I pinch my fingers, indicating just how slight—“over the sled.”
“A slight fit,” he echoes, voice dry. “You did try to kill me.”
“Very slight,” I agree. “I didn’t try very hard. I think we both agreed on that.”
Nemeth huffs, the sound both amused and offended all at once. He pokes at the logs on the fire, settling them, and then pushes them further back into the fireplace. “I think we should get ready for sleep, unless you need something else.”
“You’re just rushing me to bed, aren’t you?” I tease.
His wings flutter. “Of course not. Tomorrow is just a busy day. Much cleaning to be done. And bathing.” His wings twitch again. “I thought you might like a bath after being ill.”
The man is not wrong. I would absolutely love a bath. “It sounds delightful.”
“Tomorrow, then.” He goes around the room, tapping the lights to turn them off, and his quarters darken. I get under the covers, checking my arm to make sure it’s no longer bleeding before he turns off the final light, and then I lie and wait, scarcely daring to breathe.
This is the first night I’m truly aware that he’s going to be in bed next to me. That he touched himself to thoughts of me only hours ago. I scarcely breathe as he climbs over the headrail on the bed and into the bedding next to me. His bed is far larger than mine, and when his wing gently brushes my arm, I realize that this bed was made for the Fellian who would be entering the tower, the sacrifice from his people. “You know, when I first got here, I thought you took the first floor just because you were being a prick,” I murmur into the darkness as he settles down in bed. “I didn’t realize your bed was so much larger than mine.”
He goes still, and then his chuckle echoes in the darkness. I catch a glimpse of shining green eyes, gleaming like a cat’s. “The furniture here seemed sized to one of my people. Perhaps I should have said something.”
“We could fill the last six months with all the things we should have said,” I joke. Having someone in the darkness here with me feels far less lonely than it did in the past. It’s rather nice. Like when Erynne used to crawl into my bed when we were children and we’d snuggle together as she told me stories.
Snuggling in bed with a Fellian isn’t quite the same, but at least I don’t feel adrift and alone any longer.
“Indeed,” is all he says, and then he shifts his weight on the bed. “Pleasant dreams.”
I pillow my head behind my arm, thinking. It’s obvious that Nemeth isn’t going to use bedtime for flirting. I could take the lead, of course. Turn and press myself against his back—and wings—and spoon him from behind. My smaller form would be ludicrous against his larger one, but after pushing my breasts against his back, I’m sure he’d get the idea. Run my hands over him. Play with his wings, see if they’re sensitive. Rake my nails down those thick thighs that seem to be made backwards from mine…
…and then what?
Have sex with a Fellian? Would it be just sex? Or would the monk-in-training view it as a long-term commitment? That it’s love instead of pure lust and boredom? I’m used to the men at court, where a fling is simply something to do to escape boredom. It’s flirting taken a little too far in the dark corners of a room, or the thrill of sneaking into a lover’s quarters. That’s all it is—a thrill.
I have a feeling that to Nemeth, it would mean something much more.
I tuck the blankets under my arms and decide that I’m not ready to make that leap. Not when I have a fire and a full belly for the first time in weeks. I’m not doing anything to mess this up.
For now, sleep is best.
Chapter
Twenty-Six
The days start to settle in. The winter rages on, but we’re tucked away in the tower, the only sign that the Gray God is in hiding is the ice that sometimes forms over the water, or breath that sometimes fogs the air.