In the Veins of the Drowning(26)

Theodore looked up at me from the step below. The terror—the worry—in his eyes made my stomach dip. “Ah, fucking Gods,” he grumbled. “Come here.” He reached up like he was going to wrap me in his arms.

I stepped back. “What are you doing?”

“Your Majesty,” the guard behind me whispered. “We need to keep moving.”

“A minute.” Theodore scowled. “The lady is about to freeze to death. She needs to warm up.”

“You’re not suggesting that you warm me.” His blood pumped through my veins but the thought of being touched, of letting him press his body to mine, felt far too intimate.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “The other people here are clothed in metal, so yes, it would be me.”

The guards ahead of us came back. “We’re only halfway down, Your Majesty. What would you have us do?”

Theodore’s gaze lingered on me for a moment. “Go ahead. See what’s waiting for us at the bottom. If you think we would be overwhelmed, return. If not, tuck yourself away among the rocks. We’ll be down shortly.” Theodore looked to the two guards behind me. “Wait for us ten steps down.”

When we were alone, Theodore let out an enraged huff.

“I’m fine,” I said, though my body quaked. It was foolish—I knew it was—to not accept his help.

“Clearly.” His hands were propped on narrow hips. “But this incessant blood bond will not let me ignore the fact that you’re shaking. You’re cold. You’re scared—”

“Don’t you dare call me a coward again—”

He held up a hand. “I said you were scared.” In the moonlight, I could just see the sincerity that softened his eyes. “I’m scared too.”

My fingers flexed against the vase I held, but I said nothing. I couldn’t decide if knowing that he, the descendant of a Great God and king, was also scared made me feel better or worse.

“Tell me what you need.” Again, his voice was so perfectly empty of feeling, deep and resolute in his chest. But that look in his eye made me believe that he meant it.

“I need to stop shaking,” I said. He nodded and our gazes held. Then he offered me a hand. It was so warm, with calluses over his palms and the pads of his strong fingers. Guided by his steady hold, I stepped down onto the wide slab he stood upon. He took us toward the rock face. It was slightly concave, and he stepped into its curve, placing himself at my back. Neither of us spoke as he swiped at my damp hair to pile it over my shoulder. Nor did we speak when he tugged me slowly backward, into the sphere of his warmth. My body tensed when my back touched his hard chest. The sore skin there ached, but quickly, the heat of his body seemed to soothe it. He looped an arm around the front of my shoulders, and it was as if a band of sunshine bloomed over my collarbone. Slowly, carefully, he wrapped his other arm over my stomach, below the vase I held.

“Don’t spill it,” I whispered, as if he were not already handling me with the utmost care.

I didn’t think he was breathing as he gently pressed me further against his body. My twitching muscles were so exaggerated next to his steadiness. I could make out the lines and divots of his chest, his stomach. The hard press of his thighs against the back of my own. Self-consciousness leaked through me. If I could picture the intimate details of his outline, he most certainly could picture mine.

He spoke softly, lips beside my ear. “Your back. Why didn’t you tell me you were bleeding?”

“There were more important things to worry over,” I said, staring out into the darkness. “It hardly hurt compared to the binding.”

“I can’t heal the wounds with the silk stuck to it.” We stood like that, listening to the wind, and my body began to mirror Theodore’s stillness. He leaned against the rock, and I leaned against him, and for the briefest moment, I closed my eyes and imagined I lay on my stomach in the sun. That its rays sank through my skin and muscle, to my very center. It felt like the blood bond in my gut glowed.

“Are you ready?”

Theodore’s low voice jolted me. My head had fallen back against his shoulder, chin tipped up toward the stars. I jerked upright. “Yes.” I moved too quickly, trying to pull my body away from his. His arm snagged on the bottom of the vase. Water sluiced over the edge, soaking the front of me. “Shit.”

The water felt strange.

In the tub, it had sparkled over my skin and burrowed toward that dark, steady pulse in my middle. Now the water made that same place feel strained. It was as if something inside me were close to fracturing, as if the source of my power had become incongruent.

Theodore set his hands to my shoulders. “What is it?”

I shook my head, not wanting to speak what I’d felt, and started down the stairs once more. It was easier now, with Theodore’s warmth lingering over me, but it sat uneasily. Every kindness, every favor, was a debt to be repaid, and I already owed so much.

Quickly, nimbly, I moved down the stones, relying on myself alone. His boots scuffed over gravel behind me as he tried to keep up. We came upon the first Varian guard crouched around a bend. I lowered myself beside him. Theodore knelt close on my other side.

The entry yard had come into view. A wide, stacked stone gate ringed an open paddock, and beyond it stood the well-kept stable house. Torches burned on either side of the stable doors, with two more at the paddock gate. They fought to stay lit in the gusts, which made their flames strobe through the clearing. Four guards were clustered at the gate. They spoke and laughed, but the wind carried their sounds away.