Page 94 of This Vicious Dream

At this moment, he looks nothing like the dark god. His eyes are tired, his hair mussed. He looks like a man who has had little sleep.

But I know what I saw. And his ability to tuck away that murderous other side of him is…unsettling.

“The healer is extremely competent,” I say.

“Thank you,” a feminine voice says dryly. The voice is familiar, and I study the woman who appears from the door at our left.

She’s at least a footspan shorter than me, wearing a sleeveless tunic that showcases muscular arms and shoulders. Her eyes are a cool gray, and she takes me in with a clinical gaze, lingering on the scar across my chest.

I offer her a smile. “You saved my life.”

“I helped,” Calysian mutters sullenly, and then stiffens, as if appalled by his own words. He lets out a low growl, getting to his feet and stalking across the room.

The healer’s eyes glitter with amusement. “My name is Heava. You’re very lucky. Another few minutes and there would have been nothing I could do.”

I shiver. Minutes.

Her hands are cool as she examines the scar, before asking me to raise my arms, checking my movement on each side.

“Any pain?”

“Just a dull ache. When can I—”

“Two days from now. Perhaps three.Ifyou actually rest properly.”

“She will,” Calysian says from his position by the window, his voice tight.

I don’t argue. Truthfully, the thought of even standing is intimidating, despite how much my bladder is screaming at me.

Heava gives me a knowing look before glancing at Calysian. “We need privacy.”

He snorts, as if the thought is ludicrous. When I pin him with a glare, he holds his hands up and stalks out of the cottage.

“He is in a terrible mood,” I mutter.

“The man hasn’t slept. You were feverish and ranting, and he stayed by your side, murmuring into your ear for days.”

I stare at her, uncomfortable with the thought of what I might have said while in the midst of that fever. “How long have we been here?”

“Five days.”

My fingers clutch at the soft sheets. Five days of travel Calysian has lost. And yet he stayed.

Heava moves next to the bed, gesturing for me to get up.

“Lean on me. The outside wound may be healed, but things are still healing inside.”

I can feel it too. The tenderness that warns me a single sharp movement could tear something important. Still, with her help, I manage to hobble to the bathing room before slumping back into bed, dizzy from the effort of taking a few steps.

The moment I’m finished, Calysian returns. Heava shakes her head at him but leaves us alone.

“You should drink more.” Calysian takes a seat on the narrow bed next to me, handing me the cup of water. When he angles me up so I can drink, his warm breath caresses my neck.

I shiver, and his lips curve.

“Why did you stay here?” I ask him. “I know you want to find the other two grimoires.”

Offense flashes across his face. “You think I would leave you?”

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