“Rhyan….”
He released my hand. “Because three years later, I still feel the taste of your lips on mine. Because I can’t forget you, the way your body felt against mine, the way your scent wrapped around me. Because I think about that kiss all the time. Because I dream about you at night. Because, if I kiss you now, if I get one more taste, you’ll consume me.”
He shook his head again. “That was why I stopped talking to you. Why I—it doesn’t matter. Forget I said anything. It’s not your problem. You just need to recover, to feel better.”
And then his lips were on my forehead, pressing the softest kiss against my skin. “Sleep.” He blew out the candles, his bedroom darkening with only the faint scent of smoke in the air.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
RHYAN’SHANDWASonmy forehead, right where he’d kissed me, when I woke.
The sun wasn’t up yet. Only a small candle on a corner table offered light. Embers flared from the remaining ashes of moonleaves smoking in a bowl.
“Hey there, partner,” he said. “How do you feel?”
“Like death.” I leaned into his hand. I had a raging headache, and the pressure was soothing.
“You were thrashing,” he said. “And you spiked a fever, but I think it’s already breaking. I’ve been giving you cold compresses, and…using my aura to keep you cool.”
“I’m sweating,” I said weakly, feeling the moisture on my forehead and the back of my neck. Even the pillow beneath my face felt damp.
“That’s good.”
I turned on my side, and for a second, a bout of nausea hit me. I sat up, the blanket slipping from my shoulders. Just as quickly, the sensation released, leaving me with the realization that my breasts were completely exposed right in front of Rhyan.
He pulled the covers back over me. “I didn’t see anything.”
“That’s exactly what people say when they saw something,” I moaned. I pressed my palm to my temple, my whole head pounding.
“Swear to Auriel.” He pressed a hand to his heart but also pulled the blankets even higher over my shoulder, his jaw tight. “Listen, we need to get you back to your room before sunrise. Before we’re seen.”
“How much trouble will we be in for this?”
“We didn’t do anything we shouldn’t have,” he said carefully.
No, we just talked about kissing, and almost…. My fingers brushed against my lips, still sensing the almost feel of his.
“It’s expected for an apprentice to care for their wounded novice,” he said. “But with us, well, there’s been a lot of attention on you, and I think it’s better if you don’t have anyone see you quite so injured. Not yet.”
“What time is it?” There was no light coming through his window.
“Almost five in the morning.”
“You’re right.” Keeping the covers tight around me this time, I started to sit up again, moving gingerly. My head swam. “Gods.”
“Lay back down, Lyr. You’re in no condition to walk.”
“So how exactly am I supposed to leave?” I turned back to my stomach, letting it sink into the mattress.
“Me. I’ll carry you. I’ll do all the work. You just keep resting.”
“Because I need to be ready for training?” I closed my eyes, the idea of physical movement, of stepping foot back inside the Katurium, making me physically sick.
“Because you need to heal. Stay on your belly. I’ll get you something to wear.”
Within seconds, I fell asleep again. I woke to Rhyan pulling a tunic over my head. Gently, he lifted one arm, then the other, sliding them through the sleeves.
“How did you learn to dress unconscious people?” I asked into the pillow.