Page 24 of Merciless Is My Crown

The bed dipped, and Tavion’s arms slid beneath me then cradled me close. I wondered if anything had ever felt as right as being here, in his arms, swallowed by the darkness and his pin-swept scent.

There was a calmness to him that hadn’t been there before, a steadiness that had me sinking against him as he ran his hand down my side, gentle and soothing, my eyes slipping closed as if instinctually, I knew I could trust him.

“Sleep for a few hours, love.” His lips skimmed gently over my cheek, my forehead. “Let me hold you until the sun comes up.”

10

ANARIA

Gods, it felt good to be clean.

Loved.

My head was still spinning when I pulled on my newly rinsed shirt, then a pair of doeskin breeches that fit me like a glove. I didn’t know where Raz managed to find them, but they were perfect, and I moved easily in them, slipping the iron bands back in place. With the leather jacket tightly belted, I felt better than I had in days.

I picked up a brush off the dresser, blew off the dust, and began brushing my snarls.

We’d all bathed and slept—some of us more than others—as Tavion let out a raspy snort and rolled over onto his stomach, his silky white hair spread across the pillows as he scratched his arse beneath the covers.

Gods…I couldn’t stop staring at him.

My husband. And not just in name.

It was still dark when Zor had crept in to tell us we weren’t leaving until daylight, then I’d slept until Raziel returned before dawn, bringing another plate of food, courtesy of Bexley’s wonderful magic. I’d sat cross-legged on the bed and eaten half, while Tavion hadn’t so much as budged.

I didn’t have the heart to roust him.

He was so pale. And even now, in sleep, his hand, outstretched on the pillow, trembled uncontrollably.

Tremors he’d been hiding for days. A symptom of the same genetic mutation that took his mother, and would take Tavion if I didn’t find a cure. I’d spent every spare moment searching for possible solutions and I’d keep searching until I found a way to heal his sickness.

But time was slipping away.

Soon enough the blackouts would start, the hallucinations, the paranoia.

And once those began, there would be no going back.

I had to get Tavion to Nightcairn before the worst of the symptoms began. But…first I had to get through this morning, and I wasn’t sure I could face what came next.

Splitting up and heading to opposite ends of the world.

Within the hour, I’d be hugging Zor and Raz goodbye.

Part of me regretted not spending last night with them, but Zor had kissed me this morning and told me Tavion had waited long enough. Just that simple act had put me in tears, and we hadn’t even gotten to our goodbyes.

I inspected my face in the mottled-silver mirror. I was still too pale, my eyes the same bottle-green, rimmed with black lashes, focused too intently on my reflection. But who was I, really? The Fae King’s daughter? A witch? A princess? A slave pretending to be something she wasn’t?

That last option felt truer than anything and sometimes I wished for that simple life back, as horrible as it had been. Ember would still be alive, I wouldn’t have all this blood on my hands, but…I looked over my shoulder at a still-sleeping Tavion and everything inside of me softened like butter.

I would still be alone.

Outside, hooves crunched on the gravel out front, and I braided my hair then crossed to Tavion. He filled up the whole bed, arms thrown out wide, his lashes dark against too pale cheeks, legs jerking as he dreamed.

Gods. How he’d made me feel last night had been…eye opening.

“Tavion.” I tapped his rock-solid arm. “Tavion, it’s time to wake up. Tristan has the horses ready.” He groaned then curled tighter around one of the pillows, eyes moving rapidly behind closed lids.

I wondered if there was any harm in letting him sleep. We were all so tired, and Tavion…was sick. Except that’s when Tristan and Zor decided to hold a conversation right below our window, and from the snippets I caught, we were already running late.

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