Page 115 of Sweetling
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Molly woke with a start, eyes blearily searching the dimly lit room. A single brazier still burned in the far corner, its small sphere of light casting most of the room in an inky blue.
A groan rasped behind her, and Molly realized the body that’d been pressed to her when she fell asleep was gone, taking the blankets and all the warmth with him.
She rolled onto her other side, sleepy and confused, only to gasp in alarm.
Allarion lay in the center of the bed, tangled in the blankets, his skin bearing a gleam of sweat. Although his eyes were clenched shut, one of his hands fisted at his chest as if it pained him.
Another groan ripped from his throat, and Molly’s heart gave an answering lurch. Clambering to her hands and knees, she crouched above him and shook his shoulders.
“Allarion. Allarion!”
His head lolled to the side, mouth pulled taut over his teeth in a grimace.
Molly shook him more violently, desperate to see his eyes. She knew he’d need a long sleep soon after returning home, but he hadn’t said anything, and he’d been so good about warning her when it was time.
He always looked so serene in his long sleeps, too. They weren’t supposed to pain him!
Bellarand!She called through her mind.BELLARAND!
What did I say about shouting?
Allarion won’t wake up! Is he supposed to…is that supposed to happen after the fae have sex?
An agonizingly long pause awaited her.No…
Well he’s—
Allarion jackknifed, sitting straight up in bed in one sudden motion. Molly yelped, rolling to her side with his momentum. His hair billowed around him, and although his eyes were open, he didn’t seem to see her, his hand clutching again at his chest.
“Allarion!” she cried, snapping her fingers to get his attention.
He flinched before his eyes focused on her hand, then her face. The breath shuddered out of him, mouth dangling open as he panted.
Molly held perfectly still, unsure what to make of the wild look in his eyes. Those purple irises stared at her in utter shock, striking as they were framed in white.
“Molly…” he groaned.
He grabbed her hand and dragged her forward. Wriggling closer, she frowned when he pressed her palm to his chest. Another breath shuddered out of his great chest, his skin burning and clammy beneath her hand, and his heart beat a wild staccato—
She gasped, jumping to her knees to plant both hands on his chest.
“Your heart! You have a heartbeat!”
Allarion stared up at her, dumbstruck. “It…it thuds,” he said.
Tears sprang to her eyes even as she smiled. “Yes, it does. Like a heart should. But I didn’t know…”
She’d never heard him have a heartbeat or seen him with a pulse before. Yes, he breathed air like she did and so had lungs. He’d once in a while ingest something and so must have a stomach, too. And he certainly had blood, black blood that had to go somewhere; she just never considered where, as his chest had always been quiet.
In her wonder, Molly searched his face, trying to gauge how he felt. To never feel your heart beating, and then all of a sudden have one, it had to be alarming.
But as she looked…
“Hold still,” she told him, leaning to her bedside table to pick up the lamp that sat there. “House?” The lamp in her hand lit, illuminating them in a soft yellow glow.
She brought the lamp closer to his face, lifting his chin with a crooked finger. Turning his face into the light, Molly saw why he’d seemed different.
