Page 151 of The Dawn of the Cursed Queen

He opened his mouth to answer. I was sure he was about to repeat how he couldn’t tell me anything, but then Vincent came up the steps.

My anger faded as I watched him limp up the stairs. He held his helmet at his side, Nismera’s war tassels not swinging like they usually did. His face and armor were covered in grime, his hair matted with sweat. I could smell the scent of blood from here, and I hoped that none of it was his. Vincent gave the guards a pointed look, and without a word, they nodded and left their stations. They didn’t even look at him as they hurried past him and down the stairs, probably thrilled to be rid of my constant bickering and demands to know about his latest mission.

“What happened to you?” I asked, folding my arms and leaning against my door frame. “Why does she have you going back out so soon after what happened?”

“I don’t ask questions. I just do what I’m told.” He grimaced at me before heading to his room across the hall. I knew he didn’t want to talk about it and planned to go into his room and shut the door, but hell if I was going to let him ignore me. He swung the door closed, but I lifted my hand and made a fist, my emerald magic curling around the frame to stop it.

Vincent spun and then grabbed his side with a hiss. He straightened slowly, his face ashen.

I stalked forward, still holding the door open. I didn’t want to fight, even though it felt like that was all we had done for weeks. For as long as I had known him, there had always been a push and pull between us. Vincent had always been the silent type, but I often caught him watching me.

“Don’t think you can shut the door on me and lock me out,” I said, stepping inside his room.

“Quiet down, would you?” he said, glancing at the door behind me.

I slammed the door, the walls rumbling from the force of my magic. Vincent’s eyes burned into mine.

“I was worried about you. I may have healed the outside parts of you, but you still need time to heal.”

“I’m tired, Camilla. Can you yell at me tomorrow?” He turned and dropped his helmet on the floor. I saw it then. The claw marks ran from his neck all the way down his back. The armor had stopped the claws from digging in, but I could still see the bruises spreading over his back.

“What happened?” I asked against my better judgment.

“Can you ask me that tomorrow, too?” he asked, pausing near the bathing room. “Unless you want to stay and talk about it, but I am about to get naked, take a bath, and get into bed.”

“Nismera isn’t coming in for her nightly rounds, then?”

He made a face at me, one I didn’t know him well enough to read, and reached for the collar of his armor. A latch moved, then another before it fell, landing on the floor with a dull metal thud that reminded me of a drum. Scars formed patterns over his muscled bare chest, but it was the fresh cuts and bruises on his midsection that drew my attention right now. I didn’t think that wherever he had been was just a routine mission.

I turned away as he reached for his pants. “I’ll be right back.”

I heard him snort before more armor thudded onto the floor. I left his room and hurried across the hall to mine. I grabbed a few things and headed back. Armor littered the floor, all spikes and sharp edges. I wondered if that was truly what Nismera looked like on the inside. Her outward beauty made even me pause the first time I saw her. The long, silver-blonde hair swept behind her in waves. Her frame, while small, held power so immense that it wafted off of her like a perfume. But it was her eyes that told the truth of her nature. They seemed to soften around her brothers, but something dark and hateful lurked behind every emotion. It was something my magic acknowledged and reacted to. Every time I was near her, I felt it retreat, wanting to hide so deep within me I feared I would never get it out again.

I stopped as I entered the bathing room, my heart lodging in my throat at the sight of him. He was standing in the glass-enclosed shower, water pouring down on him from the ceiling. Even with the steam filling the room, I could see his heavily muscled chest and tapered waist, leading to . . . I placed the few items I’d brought on the counter, setting them down hard enough for him to hear me.

“That was fast,” he said. “What did you do? Run?”

I sighed. “Our rooms are only a few steps from each other.”

He made a noise, and I heard a rattling from the shower. I straightened my shoulders, staring at the potions and salves I’d laid out on the counter.

“Anyway, I brought you things,” I said, watching his reflection in the mirror but careful to keep my gaze above his waist. Things? Holy gods, Camilla. I mentally slapped myself. What was wrong with me?

He nodded and wiped a hand across his face, the water clumping a few of his eyelashes together in a way I wouldn’t think about. I was a super powerful, world-shattering witch. He had no power over me. I turned around decisively and leaned against the counter.

Vincent turned off the shower, and I squared my shoulders, proving I wasn’t affected by his nakedness in the slightest. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist before stepping out, and I realized how much of a liar I was. Vincent was always so well put together that I had no idea he had muscles on top of muscles under all that self-righteousness of his.

“What is that?” he asked, nodding toward the few small jars I had with me.

“Come. I’ll show you,” I said, gathering the bottles and walking into his room.

He sighed and followed, setting the salves on his bedside table. I heard shuffling behind me and turned just enough to see the towel on the floor and Vincent pulling up a pair of loose pants. I waved for him to sit, and he did with a huff.

“What are you doing?” he asked, watching as I settled behind him.

“Helping you,” I said, opening a single jar. “You know, again? I should probably charge you at this rate.”

His lips turned up in a smile, and I hated that it made my breath hitch.

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