Page 108
Now she merely stood there while he smoothed a wrinkle from her waist with the absent ease of a man straightening his own clothes.
She hated how ordinary it felt—how welcome it felt. He was a vicious beast, but in between those moments of debasing her very soul, he held her close in a way that softened every harsh edge she had forged into armor until she found herself wanting for more.
Lucan stepped away from her, his gaze sweeping over the ivory gown as if searching for some imperfection only he could see. Apparently satisfied, he crossed to the heavy oak doors. A servant entered moments later, balancing a silver tray laden with warm bread, sliced pears, honey, fresh cream, and a steaming pot of tea. Without lifting his eyes, Lucan accepted a crystal goblet of bloodwine from a second servant before dismissing them both with a flick of his fingers.
She had bargained with him several days before for more than bloodwine, despite his assurance that she would remain perfectly healthy with the befouled stuff sloshing in her stomach with every step. When he sarcastically asked what she might desire, she had blurted out the first thing that came to mind—tea, bread, and fresh pears, just like Reshva used to always feed her.
It took everything within her to hide her smile when Lucan returned with the tray for the third day in a row.
Elarian reached for the tea first. The fragrant steam curled around her face as she filled her cup. Inhaling deeply, she let her thoughts wander back into the Evermist. She felt the heat of Aela’s body curled around hers at night and the deep rumble of her chest when she howled at the moon. I hope she is well.
Before she could reach for the honey, Lucan slid the crystal dish toward her across the table.
She looked up.
“Thank you.”
The words escaped before she could stop them.
Lucan stilled; the goblet paused halfway to his lips. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then, almost imperceptibly, the corner of his mouth curved.
“You’re welcome, darling.”
Heat rushed into her cheeks.
Gods!
She hated that pet name. Hated the way it had become so commonplace that hearing it no longer sent immediate fury through her veins.
Instead…
Instead, it merely made her stomach flutter.
Disgusting.
She tore off a piece of bread with considerably more force than necessary.
“You appear troubled,” Lucan murmured over the rim of his goblet.
“Observant,” she snarled as she stuffed the bread into her mouth. Ravenous hunger clawed through her stomach as her fever abated.
“And yet, you continue assaulting innocent bread rather than me.”
She shot him a flat look.
“I considered both. Be thankful this bread is in front of me and you are not.”
“I gathered as much.”
Despite herself, the corner of her mouth twitched. The smile vanished almost as quickly as it came. Lucan’s crimson eyes lingered on her for only a heartbeat before drifting back to the bloodwine in his hand, as though he had not witnessed the expression at all.
Elarian finished her meal in the quiet dawn light while Lucan stood waiting in the shadows. She had grown used to the way he watched her every move. At first, his gaze felt like knives scraping against her skin. Every time she glanced up to see his rigid stare, a part of her wondered what he thought of her. Had he been committing her form to memory? Did he observe the way her left shoulder stood higher than the right, her head always slightly tilted to compensate? And what of the nearly invisible scars that covered her neck, her upper back, her inner thighs, her arms…anywhere she could find to let the fever bleed from her accursed body?
A wicked thought swirled behind those bloody eyes.
She desperately ached to find out what it was.
When Elarian drank the last of her tea, she pushed the dish away with a loud sigh, then stood. The moment they left his chambers, this inexplicable kindness between captured assassin and still-living target would vanish in the eternally dim corridors of the Blood Palace. Elarian despised herself for the reluctance that grew each day; how she wished to stay in these chambers with Lucan by her side, riding out her fading starin as he oscillated between cruel warden and gentle nurse.
