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“I was sent.”
“By Saylah?”
“By Cethin,” he said, plopping her other boot onto the floor outside the tub.
“Why?”
“To aid in whatever way I can. Since they cannot leave the Wards yet.”
“Soon?”
Razik shrugged. “In theory.”
Eliza rolled her eyes. A comfortable silence settled over them, and she couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped her. What a sight this must be. A grown-ass female and a broody dragon sitting in a dry tub covered in blood and grime.
“I need to bathe,” she finally sighed after several minutes.
“And then?”
“And then I need to sleep,” she replied, gripping the sides of the tub and pulling herself to her feet. She stepped out, and Razik did the same, not looking back as he left the bathing room.
She took a long, hot bath, and alone among the steam of the water she kept heated with her remaining power, she let the tears come. Not the shaking sobs of earlier, but the tears of loss at yet another she had called her own crossing the Veil. What would Nakoa think of her now?
She let out another sigh as she dried off before tossing the towel in the corner and heading to her bedchamber. She didn’t stop moving when she saw him waiting for her, sitting on the edge of her bed. He went unnaturally still. She’d known he was out here, had scented him.
Had felt him down this stupid bond.
She moved straight to his pack that he’d set on a settee. Pulling one of his shirts from it, she slipped it on, the hem reaching her knees, before she climbed under the blankets.
There was a long, tense silence before he said with a low growl, “You are not wearing pants.”
“You’re too fucking hot at night.”
“You’re going to make me sleep beside you when you are only wearing my shirt?” he ground out.
“No one said you had to sleep beside me. The scent of your shirt will be enough for me to sleep just fine.”
Another bout of silence before he huffed loudly. “If I sleep beside you tonight, this will not be like other times, Eliza. This will not be something we never speak of again.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“We will discuss everything in the morning.”
“I know.”
“I am going with you to the Fire Court.”
She sighed loudly. “I know, Raz.”
There was another long stretch of silence before she heard him move, and the bed dipped. He didn’t reach for her, didn’t touch her at all as he settled in. Then he said quietly, “Only Cethin and Lia call me Raz.”
“Sorry,” she muttered.
“No. I… No one else ever cared enough to call me by a nickname.”
She went still, letting his words settle into her soul, before she said softly, “Good night, Raz.”
Chapter22
