Page 161 of Esperance

Fingers brushed her cheek, and Amryn stirred.

“Are you finally going to open your eyes so I know you’re all right?” Carver’s throat sounded dry, making his voice rougher than normal.

She instinctively read his emotions.

He had a pretty good hold on them, as he often did, but she detected threads of worry, confusion, and relief.

Slowly, she pried her eyes open.

Carver was lying next to her on his side, propped up with an elbow so he could see her. Her scalp tingled pleasantly, and she realized his fingers were playing gently with her loose curls that swept over the pillow.

“There you are,” he whispered, searching her eyes. “Saints, you terrified me.”

She blinked up at him. Sunlight streamed around the edges of the curtains, telling her it was morning. She shifted slightly, and realized she was in a nightgown—something she hadn’t noticed the first time she woke up. She assumed Ahmi must have changed her last night—

She stiffened.

Last night.

Her heart tripped as it all came flooding back.

The ball.

Samuel.

Tam.

Argent.

The poison.

The healing.

The amulet.

That voice.

She shuddered.

“Easy,” Carver murmured. “You’re safe.”

She pushed up into a seated position. He followed her, shifting so one shoulder was braced against the large wooden headboard.

A furrow dipped between his dark brows as he studied her face. “Are you all right?”

“I . . .” She pinched her eyes closed. “I think so.”

Though there was no way she should be.

Unless the poison had made her hallucinate? Perhaps the necklace, the voice, the flood of power—had it all been in her head?

She opened her eyes, easily meeting his gaze. “What happened?”

“To be honest, I was hoping you could tell me.” Carver reached for a pitcher of water and a glass on the nightstand. He poured a cup and passed it over.

She took it and eagerly swallowed the tepid water. The action made her aware of the swollen, bruised state of her cheek, from where Tam had slammed her face against the floor. The pain was dulled, which made her think she’d been given some form of medicine. Clearly, however great the power she’d wielded, she still hadn’t been able to heal herself. Which meant the antidote Carver had given her had saved her life.

Carver set aside the pitcher and re-settled against the headboard, his focus on her. “What do you remember?”

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