Page 140 of The Dawn of the Cursed Queen

Samkiel finished the last button, and I held the dress against my breasts to keep it from falling. He sat on the edge of the tub and twisted the chain-style knobs, running his hand under the water to check the temperature.

“Do you wish to tell me why you were crying, or shall I ask Orym?”

I knew when he said ask, he meant in a non-friendly way. Samkiel seemed to be more erratic than ever when it came to me.

“It was nothing,” I whispered, and his brows rose in question. “The oracle said some things that upset me, that is all.”

“Said what?”

He moved his hand to his lap, satisfied with the temperature as the tub filled.

“Said things that made me think of Gabby.”

His brows pinched together in empathy. “Oh, akrai. Do you wish for me to go kill her twice?”

A snort left my lips even as my eyes filled with unshed tears. “You’re cute when you’re homicidal.”

He smiled at me and stood up, pulling his shirt off.

“We will not both fit in this bathtub,” I said, knowing that was exactly what he wanted, and he wasn’t expecting sex. The one thing I’d learned from Samkiel was that he craved to touch me. Every chance he got, he held my hand, pressed a knee to mine, or even a foot. He especially loved bathing or showering with me. Samkiel wanted to do everything with me, and the knowledge healed a fraction of my cold, bruised, damaged heart.

“You know me,” he tapped my nose, “I’ll make it fit.”

I couldn’t help the small laugh that burst from me, even though I knew he hadn’t said it on purpose.

“There she is. There’s my Dianna.” A soft smile graced his lips, proud that he could chase some of the darkness away from me. He held out his hand once more, waiting.

I dropped my dress, and he led me to the tub. It was not a good fit despite his confidence, but we made it work. Samkiel wrapped his big body around mine and held me close. He whispered to me, doing everything he could to make me laugh. The harrowing tension that had gripped me melted away.

After our bath, Samkiel headed across the hall to brief Orym on his plan. They talked for a while as I lay on the small bed, gazing out the window. A caw sounded on the wind, a dark bird with wings the color of midnight coasting by, its medium-sized body darting past the window. I moved my hands under my head, watching the silver of Samkiel’s power burn in the night sky, and I made up my mind to tell him. I couldn’t hide it anymore, and I had to tell him what the oracle had said. It wasn’t fair to him, even if he would be mad at me.

The door creaked open, and Samkiel padded in. “Sorry, that took a little while. I also filled Roccurem in on what happened.”

I nodded and rested my head on my hands. “What’s the plan?”

Samkiel grabbed a throw off the chair and moved around to the other side of the bed. It dipped and creaked beneath his weight as he settled and spread the blanket over us. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. Fitting my body to his, he rested his face in the crook of my neck.

“We need to wait until I find the murrak. That’s my main goal.”

“Not the girl with the sword?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “The murrak is not to be trifled with, and I need to make sure it is no longer in the city.”

I turned in his embrace. “What is it?”

His eyes held mine. “There are princes in the Otherworld, seven to be exact. Each carries a totem from their mother, Icnima. She birthed monsters as the fables go. The murrak is one of seven ancient creatures still in existence, a gift to her son, Umemri.”

I recalled its massive form, the legs, and how it moved. Even its skin seemed Otherworldly. “It looks gross. You know I hate bugs. Why couldn’t she get them something nicer?”

His smile made my heart do that stupid flip. “Yes, I suppose she could have, and it does resemble the insects from your world, but I am afraid it is far worse than anything Onuna has to offer.”

“So, is your goal to capture it? Since it belongs to one of them.”

Samkiel sighed deeply. “That’s my goal. I would like not to elicit the wrath of the Otherworld. I am already fighting one war.”

“It’s tough being the hero?” I teased.

“Tremendously.”

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