Page 92 of Vale of Dreams

He drains the rest of his wineglass, then stands, heading for the bathroom. “I’m going to take a bath.”

“Just make yourself at home.”

He turns back to me with a half-smile. “Perillos is my home, my mistress.”

CHAPTER 33

Talan stalks out of the shower wearing only a pair of small, black underwear that doesn’t leave much to the imagination. I find myself staring at the vinelike tattoos that trace over his muscles, coiling around his large bicep. For the briefest moment, I imagine running my tongue over those tattoos—and then I quickly force the image from my mind.

For the first time since I met him, he seems softer, his usual mocking expression replaced with something else that I can’t quite pinpoint.

I remember to close my mouth as he crosses to the bed. The air between us feels charged. I absolutely cannot let myself fall under his seductive spell. Maybe he trusts me—maybe that was a lie. But I can’t assume he’s on my side until I know the truth and I have actual intel to confirm it. If I get this wrong, it’s all over.

When he slides into the bed next to me, I shift away from him, like I might be burned by his touch. As I do, I wince involuntarily at the throbbing pain in my side.

Talan, of course, notices.

His dark gaze sweeps down, and he frowns at my waist, exactly where I was stabbed. “What happened?”

“You said I could keep my secrets.”

His gaze flicks up, piercing me. The copper rings in his eyes grow bright as flames. “I’ve changed my mind, because if someone attacked you, that’s a secret you cannot keep. Did this knave stab you with a knife or a sword? What did he look like?”

I swallow hard. This is getting harder and harder to conceal. “An assassin, maybe. I didn’t want you to make a big thing of it and go on a murder rampage.”

“An assassin?” His voice is ice-cold, his eyes dark with anger.

“You know that since I first got here, people have wanted me out of the way. They see me as a threat.”

“Was he from Arwenna’s family? Sent by my father? Some other noble’s mercenary?”

“We didn’t get that far in the conversation.”

A muscle flexes in his jaw. “Let me see. I can heal it.”

Fuck. He’ll see the mangled job I did with the thread.

I inhale sharply. “It might look a bit gruesome.”

“Let me see.” His deep voice echoes with the authority of a king’s command, and his eyes are narrowed.

“Fine. But it’s not pretty.” Swallowing hard, I hoist up the hem of my nightgown, exposing my pale pink underwear that barely covers what it needs to. As I do, Talan’s eyes flick up to me, his jaw flexing. In the cool castle air, I feel exposed before him, but the Fey aren’t self-conscious.

Taking a deep breath, I pull the hem further up until the garment is just under my ribs. As I do, a chill ripples over the room, and the torches gutter, almost sputtering out. Outside, lightning cracks the sky.

“And they sewed you with thread?” His voice chills my blood. “Is this why there were reports of blood in the courtyard?”

“I sewed it. I was trying to stop the bleeding.”

When he looks up at me, I can see that he has never heard of this concept before.

“It’s a farm thing,” I say quickly. “We didn’t have access to the court healers that you have. I know it’s not healing as fast as it should, so it made me wonder if there was a toxin.”

“I need to know what the assassin looked like.”

“He was dressed as a soldier.”

“Shall I have them all killed, then? Every soldier working last night? Their entrails drawn out of them until someone confesses?”

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