Page 81 of Ties of Dust

“Are you all right?” What a stupid question. Of course she wasn’t. He tried again. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It wasn’t you.” She shook her head. “It’s just…everything hurts.”

The words were spoken almost pleadingly, and Cassius felt again that terrible, powerless rage. He gathered her up on his lap, running one hand over her hair in a mechanical loop. It was a selfish action as much as it was for her sake—heneededto touch her, to hold her close. And he was unsure where else was safe to place a hand.

Flora seemed to appreciate the contact. She curled into his lap, closing her eyes and laying her head against his shoulder again.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered into his ear.

Cassius stiffened. “What?”

“I’m a poor protector.” Her voice was so faint, he could hardly hear it. “I tried to get free, to find some Dust, anything. But I couldn’t do it.”

“Flora, stop.” The words were choked out of Cassius. “Don’t apologize, I can’t bear it. I can’t bear it!”

She stilled in his arms, confused at the passion in his voice.

“It’s all my doing, all of it,” he went on, the words catching in his throat. “My pride did this to you. My arrogant, selfish determination to save face made you vulnerable. I’m the one who—”

He broke off abruptly as Flora reached up, silencing him with gentlefingers on his lips.

“It’s not your fault,” she told him. Her voice was still dropping, but not as though she was too weak to talk. It was more like she was drifting toward sleep, which was probably the best thing for her body. “You didn’t do this to me, Cassius. You’re allowed to have weaknesses. We all do. It’s not your fault when someone evil exploits them.”

Cassius swallowed, silenced as much by the sensation of her fingers on his lips as by the turmoil in his mind.

“I’m just glad you’re in one piece,” she informed him, her head heavier on his shoulder by the second. “Knowing what they were doing to you and being unable to stop it was the worst of it all. But now you’re here…with me. Now it will be all right.”

The words had barely left her mouth when Cassius felt her body relax at last, her breathing now slow and unlabored. She had succumbed to her exhaustion, leaving Cassius alone in the dim cellar, clutching her battered form in his arms and wrestling with the agony of his mind.

Chapter

Eighteen

Flora woke slowly, her senses flooded with two very inconsistent sensations.

The first was pain. Dull rather than sharp, but pervasive. Every inch of her hurt.

The second was comforting warmth and safety.

She wasn’t on a bed. She was curled up on something harder than a mattress but much warmer. It took her groggy senses a minute to recognize the sensation of arms around her. She still hadn’t opened her eyes, but she breathed deeply, taking in a familiar, masculine scent, like polished wood.

“Cassius?” She murmured the name softly, almost afraid to open her eyes and dispel the illusion.

The arms around her tightened, and she heard his breath catch.

“Flora. You’re awake.”

Flora eased one eye open, surprised to see how dark it remained. She looked carefully around, the cellar difficult to distinguish in the gloom but still hideously familiar fromthe hours of fear she’d endured when Cassius was unconscious.

They weren’t safe at all. They were still captives, still battered. But the feeling of security lingered. She’d gotten her bearings enough to realize that she was perched on Cassius’s lap, his arms keeping her upright against him.

“It’s nighttime,” she said absently.

“Yes.”

Cassius’s face was so close to hers, his breath tickled her cheek as he spoke.

“You’ve been out for a few hours. No more than five. I would guess it’s two hours past midnight, but I have no way to tell for certain.”

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