Page 62 of Traitor Witch
Not with her scent wrapped around me. The memory of her skin still tingling on my fingertips.
She reaches past me then draws back, the softness of a towel brushing my shoulder as she wraps herself in it.
I finally find the strength to stand, tactfully untucking my shirt as I go. She surprises me by taking my offered hand, her slight weight leaning on me as she steps out of the bath.
“You need to rest,” I murmur.
NILSA
Rest. Yeah right.
My body may have been through the wringer but my mind keeps replaying the events of the last day on a loop.
Danika, exiling me.
The agony of the sigils which still burn just beneath my skin.
Val, refusing to let me onto the ship.
I have no idea why the last one bothers me so much. I hate Val, and the feeling’s mutual. I shouldn’t care that he doesn’t want me here.
“I don’t want to rest,” I say, “I’m not stupid. I know I’m not up to much, but I need to be doing something."
Nos smiles. "What do you like doing?"
Isn't that the question? I think about it as I walk back into my room and towards the closet at the back. It’s a good thing Nos can't see my expression as I open the wardrobe doors and find a whole selection of white, cream, and pale grey dresses in there.
Dammit, what I wouldn't give for black, or even a very dark blue.
"Do you like them?"
I force the smile into my voice, "They're great, thank you."
"Lie."
Fucking fae! I turn to glare at him, standing in the doorway. "Ever hear of knocking?"
He just raises an imperious brow.
"If you don't like them, we can get something else," Nos seems unfazed by our byplay. "I mean, they don't look like anything special to me either."
It takes a moment for his joke to sink in, and when it does, I can't contain my snort.
"It's not the clothes," I say, "I just... it's not what I'm used to." There, that isn't a lie. "I'm not even sure what I want to wear anymore."
I’m no longer a Solar fosterling, but can I wear the black of a Lunar now that I’m an exile? Can I afford not to when striking from the shadows is my safest option?
"I think I need to discover who I am without my coven," I say, plucking a dress at random from the closet. "I might as well experiment, since it seems I won't be able to go home for a while,"
An uncomfortable silence follows my words, and I turn around to find both men still staring. "I need to get changed."
Kier's slow smile suggests he doesn't care, but my glare must convince him to turn around and close the door behind him.
"I'm not watching," Nos quips, taking a perch on the side of the bed. "If you're okay with it, I want to stay close."
Somehow, knowing it’s concern which motivates him doesn't cool the blush that spreads across my body as I drop the towel and step into the dress.
The fabric is soft and clings in a way the Lunar in me appreciates. The light grey is closer to a Solar colour, but it isn't anything like the shapeless robe I wore while they fostered me. It has a plunging V-neck which somehow manages to give the impression I have larger boobs than nature ever intended, a wide belt, and a flared skirt that still covers my ankles.
