Page 70 of A Broken Throne of Bronze

“You do?”

“Yes,” Viridian says slowly. “Our society teaches us things about those who differ from us. Things that might not necessarily be true. It’s difficult to unlearn all the awful things you’ve been taught to believe. For me, things about humans. For you, things about noble fae.”

He takes my hand. “So, thank you, Cryssa Thurdred. For showing me all the things that I’ve been too blind to see.”

I part my lips. But all I can do is stare.

While I came at him with sharpened daggers, he met each of my attacks with grace. With compassion.

With humanity.

Maybe Viridian is someone I can see myself spending the rest of my life with.

I blink, driving the thought from my mind.

No.

I can’t forget why I’m here.

For Father and Acantha. For Loren. I still have a life outside of High Keep.

Don’t I?

Now, I’m not so sure.

“Goodnight, Cryssa.” Viridian’s voice snaps me back to reality.

“Goodnight,” I murmur as he turns onto his side so his back faces me. I do the same, slipping an arm under my pillow to cradle my head. After pulling the covers up to my chin, I close my eyes.

Relaxing my body, I imagine my limbs sinking deeper into the mattress.

I should be drifting off into oblivion. Instead, I’m hyper aware of the male lying next to me. Of his breaths. His movements—or rather, lack thereof.

The even pacing of his breath tells me he’s asleep. I should be, too.

I press my eyes shut and try to block him out.

But it’s only when I let go, when I stop resisting, that I start to feel myself fall.

And as fate would have it, the sound of Viridian’s soft breathing lulls me into unconsciousness.

Chapter Seventeen

Sunlight fills the compact room when I wake. I nestle into my pillow, wanting to go back to sleep.

I’m so comfortable.

Maybe these beds are of a higher quality than I thought. My hands are parallel with my face, clutching fabric. Then I realize. It’s not a pillow I’m resting on.

It’s Viridian’s chest.

Instantly letting go of his shirt, I lurch upright into a sitting position. Viridian lays on his back, chest rising and falling with sleep. His arm still lingers around me, hand dangerously close to where my lower back was just a moment ago.

How long did I sleep in his arms?

I brush my hair off my face in some effort to make myself look presentable.

Viridian stirs, eyelids fluttering as he adjusts to the light.

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