Page 17 of Fog of War
Augora sat down on the edge of the bed and my talons twitched. I didn’t wantanyonenear Gabbie.
I shook my head, standing abruptly and moving to the corner of the room with my arms crossed to keep my murderous, possessive thoughts in check. The lightness I’d felt fell like ash as I settled into the corner, watching.
“Gabbie,” Augora murmured with a comforting hum. I swallowed back my own purr.My hrumwas the one that Gabbie needed to feel calm and comforted. Not some impost–I growled again, clearing my throat, and held my breath.
“Where’m I?” Gabbie squeaked in the smallest, sleepiest voice. She blinked at the ceiling, then looked at Augora, pink staining her cheeks. “Where’my glasses?”
Augora continued to pat her shoulder. “You don’t remember?”
Gabbie strained to her elbows, sitting up. Her silk fell in a bloody clump about her shoulders despite the medics having cleaned the mess from her skin and given her a care gown. None of us had experience with cleaning or maintaining it, so we’d left it alone. She blinked several times, her focus sharpening until her pulse picked up and a burst of heat raced up her neck.
“I remember,” she said, the sleep gone from her voice. “Where’s…” She bit her lip, breath trembling. “Where’s Paladus? Is he okay? Is he mad?”
Augora looked up at me then and Gabbie’s eyes followed.
My breath froze. Her eyes glowed from across the room, piercing me straight through the heart. They sparkled like white opals in the sun. I swallowed hard, talons gripping my own elbows harder to keep myself in check.
“I’m alright,” I managed, the undertone of my voice vibrating despite my efforts to hold off. “Are you?”
She didn’t answer, lips slipping open as we just… stared.
Augora cleared her throat. “We thought you would feel more comfortable waking up in a Satoris champion suite than on the other side of the festival encampment,” she explained. “You two can stay here as long as you need.”
Gabbie blinked away, trying to focus on Augora instead. “Thanks.”
“Should I go, or do you want me to stay?”
The question hung between them for a long breath. Gabbie glanced at me with a thoughtful frown before nodding to the door.
“I’ll be okay. We probably have stuff to talk about.”
Augora stood and threw a bag over her shoulder, then gently bumped her head against Gabbie’s silk. “If you need to, just yell ‘room, help’ and someone will come skewer him for you. Probably Leopha, if we’re being honest. She’s been sitting outside hissing at people.”
To my extreme relief, Gabbie smiled easily. “I’m not worried.”
Augora left us, some of the thick midnight fog seeping into the room. Leopha popped her head in and Augora immediately pushed her back out by the shoulder.
“She’sfine,”Augora grunted, knocking her cousin back.
“Giddit, Gabs!” Leopha managed as the entry hissed shut.
Gabbie smiled and waved, but as soon as the door was closed, her features fell. She pushed aside her blanket carefully, exposing a bare, creamy leg from toe to thigh. It was peppered in bruises and scrapes that she traced with gentle confusion.
Myhrumrevved on instinct and her eyes snapped to mine. I coughed it back, gaze transfixed on her bony ankle with a starved, dry throat.
“Sorry,” I rasped, caught in a potent vortex of both need and concern.
She hastily threw the blanket back over her leg, then held up her palms like she was surrendering to authorities. “No, no. My fault. It just… doesn’t hurt anymore.”
“You received a mediplasma. All of your major injuries were repaired as quickly as possible.”
She raised her brows with a slow nod. “Oh… Thank you.” She pushed on the bridge of her nose, then grimaced, dropping her hand. “My glasses?”
“The discs you wore on your nose? We might find them in the morning…”
My sentence trailed off as my nostrils flared, taking in her scent as it rose away from her blanket. It was mixed with astringent odors from the medics, the sterile care gown, the bedding that wasn’t mine, but it was still Gabbie and I wanted it like a newborn whelp craved its mara’s nectar. Beating around the bush was only going to muddy the waters and make it more difficult for me to think clearly.
“We’ve converged,” I said, rolling my shoulders back and dropping my arms, showing off my plates covered in blood-streaked powder. Presenting myself to her in some ritual of instinct. “It’s not reversible, but–”
