Page 98 of Vale of Dreams

I scream at the guards for help, a ragged note of hysteria in my voice.

I’m shocked to find that I’m screaming at them to save the life of the man I’ve been planning to kill all this time.

CHAPTER 36

When I reach Talan’s bedroom, the guard at the door tenses. Then he nods, letting me pass. He’s obviously heard what happened to the last soldier who tried to stop me from going into the prince’s room.

I find Talan lying in his bed. His lips are still tinged with blue, but he’s awake, clutching his chest. A soldier stands by his side.

“I want it done right now,” Talan says.

He glances my way and raises a finger, indicating for me to wait.

“Sir, I’m not sure that this is the moment for such…gestures,” the guard says uneasily. “Surely we need all of our manpower to search for the assassin?—”

“You will do as I order,” Talan says, his voice as hard as steel. “Four men guarding it at all times. No one gets near it, you got that?”

“Very well, Your Highness,” the guard stutters.

He hurries out of the room.

“What was that about?” I approach his bed and sit on the edge.

“You don’t need to worry about it.”

“The healer says you’ll be fine in a few days,” I say. “As soon as your body purifies itself of the poison.”

“I don’t have a few days,” Talan mumbles. “Too much to do.”

“Well, give it a few hours, then. Even the formidable Dream Stalker needs to recuperate after being shot by an iron arrow.”

“No need to be dramatic.” His lips quirk. “It was just an iron tip.”

I clear my throat. “You saved my life.”

He glances up at me, then gives me a wry smile. “Well, I couldn’t let my secret weapon die, could I?”

I sigh. “I guess not.”

“I saw the arrow flying for you but not the attacker. Did you get a look at them?”

“It was Arwenna,” I answer. “From a window.”

“Of course.”

“I thought I saw someone when I left my room. She must have had someone watching me, waiting for me to leave.”

He nods, grimacing.

I pick up a little glass bottle of blue oil. “What’s this?”

“It’s supposed to help me sleep. It eases the pain.” He winces, hand over his chest.

“Do you want some now?”

Frowning, he pushes himself up on his elbows and pulls the bottle from my hand. He takes a deep sip, then gives it to me and falls back onto his pillow. His large hand protectively covers his flesh where it was pierced, and I watch him fall asleep, his chest rising and falling. His cheekbones look sharper than usual, his dark hair tousled, black eyelashes stark against his skin.

I feel strangely protective toward him, which is insane. I’m specifically here to help plan his assassination.

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