Page 36 of Vicious Is My Throne

“Yes. An entirely different realm,” Anaria explained as if she was speaking of Caladrius or Solarys, not some world a universe away.

Bexley had gone a shade paler, and I couldn’t blame the man. I’d nearly shite myself when she’d told me the story, and hearing it the second time wasn’t sitting any better. But I was beyond curious about her line of questioning.

And how Anaria always seemed to know where to look for answers.

“Time moves differently in dreams than in the real world. Faster, slower. Days can become years; decades can whittle down to seconds. Perhaps the question you should be asking is…did time move differently in there than it did here?”

Anaria glanced up at me.

“You were gone for ten minutes, give or take.”

“Time moved faster in there. An hour inside the dream was ten minutes here,” she whispered, fingers clenched around the apple hard enough to dent the bright red skin.

“Then they’d remain trapped longer,” Bexley agreed, curiosity sparking on his face. “I’d say…instead of a few days, you’d have months.”

Relief seeped from Anaria, her tense shoulders slumping. “Good,” she murmured, taking another gulp of water. “That’s very good. We might have enough time to get this done.”

“To get what done?” Bexley asked warily, but I ignored him.

“That’s all we needed to know.” Tavion prowled closer to the fire. “Which means we can afford two day’s rest.”

Anaria went to argue, but I swept her up into my arms and shook my head, cutting off whatever she was about to say. Every instinct told me to tuck her in bed and keep her there for the full two days. From the way Tavion’s eyes glowed green from the shadows, he agreed fullheartedly.

“No argument will change my mind, because I will not yield, Anaria.” I sank my teeth into her earlobe. “And neither will Tavion. Two days is all we ask. Two days to rest, to eat, to gather our strength.”

For a moment, I thought she would fight me. But when she nestled deeper into my arms and laid her head against my chest, her hands curling around the back of my neck, I knew I’d won this round.

We were all bone-tired. Two days wasn’t nearly enough, but I’d take whatever we could get right now.

Tavion prowled over to the sideboard and filled his arms with food and a bottle of wine. “Thank you for the food, Bexley. Tell me you have what you need to bake more bread?”

“I do, but?—”

“Good,” Tavion cut him off. “We’ll keep watch tonight while you sleep. I expect you’ve been on edge since the blight and could use the rest.”

“I’ve been on edge since those godsdamned Reapers appeared.” The mage sighed. “But thank you. Food in exchange for security is a fair trade.”

“Tomorrow, we should talk.” I jerked my head to the cluttered table. “About what you’re working on.”

“This?” Bexley shifted until he blocked our view of the gurgling beakers and handwritten notes. “This is nothing.”

“You risked your life to save what’s on that table, so it’s not nothing. We need your help, Bexley, so get some sleep, then tomorrow we’ll talk.”

12

ANARIA

Raz left me to go out and double-check the perimeter, running his hand down my backside in a way that told me he actually didn’t give a shite about the perimeter.

The bedroom already had a fire burning in the hearth, and someone—probably Tristan—had filled the tub, wisps of steam rising into the air. I left my leathers in a pile on the floor and sank into the heat, scrubbing my sticky arms, my face, running my fingers through my tangled hair.

I really should cut this, I thought, examining the frayed ends and the snarled knots.

Short hair would be easier to take care of.

Wouldn’t get tangled around everything. But somehow, finding scissors seemed like too much effort, exhaustion seeping into every crevice. My bones felt too heavy, eyes slipping shut every time I leaned my head back on the rim of the tub.

Exhaustion gnawed at me, stiff fingers barely able to drag the towel around me when I got out of the water, too afraid I’d slip beneath that surface and never come back up.

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