Page 121 of Daughter of the Drowned Empire
“You were mad?” I asked. “Because of what I said?”
“No, I forgave you. You were in pain that night. Talking to you….” He sighed. “Talking to you is my favorite thing about being in Bamaria. But…I had to stop. It was for the best. Please, believe me.” Rhyan slid off the side of the bed and crouched down beside me, his face inches from mine again. He reached forward, pushing another loose wave behind my ear. “How do you feel?”
I sniffled. “Like I had the shit kicked out of me and got whipped.” A solid tear escaped my eye.
“I know.” He nodded. “You’re staying here tonight so I can watch over you. Make sure you don’t roll onto your back or spike a fever in your sleep.”
My brain immediately threw a hundred thoughts at me. I couldn’t spend the night in Rhyan’s bedroom. I was half naked, in his bed…. Plus, I needed to check on Meera and Morgana. And I needed to be back in my own apartment in case anyone came looking for me, like Tristan.
But I was so tired. I couldn’t bear the thought of moving, and Rhyan’s bed was so comfortable and smelled so good….
“Before you close your eyes,” he said, “drink this. It has moonleaf oil. It will help you sleep.” He helped me sit up, leaning my body against his, just long enough for me to take a few sips from a silver flask. It was a similar brew to what I made Meera and Morgana but stronger. And spicier. The effect was almost immediate, the pain ebbing and my body relaxing. While I sat, leaning against him, he worked meticulously to remove the sheets I’d bled on from beneath me. Shifting me onto his lap, my head cradled against his neck, he placed a clean one on top of his mattress. I lay back down as he capped the flask and placed it on a small table.
“You only have one bed,” I said, settling back onto my stomach. The sheets smelled clean, but still like Rhyan.
“Congratulations. Your math skills are well intact.”
I rolled my eyes, or at least I thought I did. “Where will you sleep?” I asked drowsily.
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Same place I did when I watched over you in prison,” he said. “On the floor. If you need anything, I’m right here.”
Blearily, I reached out and took his hand. He was still sitting beside me. His fingers immediately entwined with mine.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m sorry I lied to you…and….”
“Shhhh.” He squeezed my hand. “You don’t need to apologize. Not tonight. Plus, I’m sorry, too.” He loosely draped a blanket over me and tucked the ends beneath my arms. “I am…sorry I let…let things be the way they were the last month.”
“You asked if you could kiss me,” I said suddenly, the words slipping out of my mouth before I could think.
“What?”
“Under the stars…in the trees.” I was already losing consciousness, but the way he’d asked for consent every step of the way tonight as he’d healed me, it reminded me, brought me back to that first kiss—the first time he’d asked for permission.
I want to kiss you. Can I?
“Summer Solstice?” he asked, his fingers tightening against mine.
“We danced,” I said. “And you asked to kiss me.”
He stared back at me, one eyebrow lifted. “I did,” he said, a small smile spreading across his face. “And you said yes.”
“I said yes.” A small smile spread across my face.
He leaned forward, his face mere inches from mine, a conspiratorial spark in his eyes. “I did call you lover that day.”
I sucked in a breath, my lips suddenly aching for his. He moved in, or maybe I moved, and then his lips hovered just above mine. I could feel it, feel the energy between us, feel his aura cocooning, caressing me. My lips were vibrating with it, tingling the way it had after we’d kissed those three years ago. I closed my eyes, his musk and pine scent intoxicating, his breathing heavy. His forehead pressed against mine, his skin warm and soothing. It wasn’t a kiss. It was something else. My breathing was his breathing, and there was just the barest, gentlest brush of his lips against mine.
And then he pulled back. My eyes shot open, my lips almost in pain from the loss as he shifted away from me.
“Lyr.” He shook his head, swallowing roughly. “We can’t.”
My stomach dropped. “Because you’re my guard,” I said, half-attempting to convince myself he was right.
“Yes.”
“And because you’re my apprentice.”
His eyes darkened. “That we can never forget.” His jaw muscle flexed. “And because you’re not free to be with me. Because you deserve better than a forsworn.”
