Page 99 of Of Kings and Thieves

I ducked my head, a flush creeping into my cheeks. It had been instinct driving me to sing against Moredanea’s power, an instinct honed over years of hiding what I was. One final, defiant cry as her magic had descended.

“You saved us all, Samara,” Col said softly. “You’re the reason we’re alive to see the dawn.”

My cheeks flamed hotter. “It was nothing. Just—”

“Don’t.” His fingers tightened on mine and brought my hand up to his lips. “You’re a hero. My hero.”

The exhaustion in my body was nothing compared to the swell of emotion in my chest. I blinked against the sting in my eyes and raised my head to meet his gaze.

Col’s eyes were soft and warm with affection. “You sang the monster down.”

This time I didn’t fight the smile that curved my lips, or the joy that lit me from within.

I leaned forward and rested my forehead on his shoulder. The solid warmth of him was reassuring, chasing away the last vestiges of terror.

All around us, the Ironguard were gathering what little remained of value from the tower. Candles, food, anything that could be of use. But for now I was content to sit, to breathe the quiet calm after the storm.

A sharp cry split the air. I jerked upright, heart pounding—but it was only Silvius, wincing as Killian probed at a wicked gash on his side.

“Quiet, bard. If you’d shown the wound to me earlier, it would have already been fixed.” Killian’s voice was tight.

“I didn’t think it was that bad.”

“It’s deep. I need to clean and close it, unless you’d prefer to go into shock and die of infection.”

Silvius bared his teeth. “Just get on with it.”

Killian’s mouth thinned, but he said nothing else, focusing on his work. Silvius’s face was pale beneath the freckles, eyes squeezed shut. I winced in sympathy—Killian’s bedside manner had never been gentle.

“Here.” I stood, crossing the room to crouch at Silvius’s side. “Let me help.”

Silvius’s eyes flew open, wide and startled. But after a moment, he nodded.

I laid my hands over the gash, feeling the hot slick of blood and ruined flesh, and staunched the bleeding while Killian spoke a spell of healing over Silvius.

The wound began to knit closed, flesh fusing seamlessly. Silvius’s breathing eased, tension draining out of his frame.

After a few minutes Killian fell silent, and I opened my eyes to survey his work. The gash was gone, leaving unmarred skin behind.

“Well done,” I said.

“It was easier than knitting your head back together,” Killian said. His voice held grudging respect. “You have a gift for not fainting at the sight of blood.”

“Blood, I can handle.” I smiled at Silvius, who smiled back, sheepish. “I wish I’d known about the wound sooner or I would have already tried to help you. How do you feel?”

“Good as new.” He flexed his abs, eyes lighting up when no pain registered. “Better, even. Thank you, Samara.”

“You’re welcome.” I patted his shoulder and rose.

“I suppose I did nothing at all, then,” Killian said, shaking his head.

“You were adequate.”

I laughed and returned to Col, who wrapped an arm around me and pressed a kiss to my temple. “Every time I think I couldn’t love you more,” he murmured, “you prove me wrong.”

My cheeks warmed, but I leaned into his embrace.

I’ll need to leave again soon. Will you stay with Silvius? Col asked through our bond. Don’t worry, he added when I hesitated, it’s not out of some misplaced desire to keep you safe, though I will always want that. I know you can protect yourself. But if The Harrow sees you, he may try something rash. I’d rather you stay here.

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