Page 74 of What Lies Within Blood & Heirs

His soulless gaze.

She’d offer up her starfire to change that look in his eyes.

Alora shuffled down the bed, but when she moved to place her hand on his chest, panic set in his eyes for a flash, then burned away into the same exhaustion she’d seen for countless days. So many times, so many mornings and nights at the firesite. Outside the training arena. In the war tent.

How many years had he endured this exhaustion? Never allowing anyone to know why those dark circles lay under hiseyes. Never knowing exactly what caused them. These terribly horrific things … suffering alone …

And she couldn’t stand it. The thought of seeing him this way come morning. When the sun warmed his face, the bleary muddy-gray would stare back. Just another day for him, but she didn’t want it to bejust another day.

Garrik’s lifeless eyes met hers, and she knew what he would say if he could. If he wasn’t too tired to argue or put up a fight.

Sapphires raked over him, resting on the abdominal wounds that lightened their angry tone slightly. Garrik’s hand traced over them, not to hide but to soothe, wincing as they glided over the deep gouges tearing as far as the muscles underneath.

Her palm lightly found his hand, keeping her focus on his face while she spoke. “Let me help.”

There was little hesitation there as he subtly nodded, closing his shame-filled eyes.

Carefully, Alora moved Garrik’s hand and rested it beside him. Her hand brushed his shackle-scared wrist, feeling his heartbeat quicken.

This had to help—it had to.

She couldn’t bear seeing him in such pain. The warm glow of an ember lit in her palm before she gently pressed into his hardened abdomen, pulsing incredible heat into the torn muscles underneath.

Instead of a panicked plea, Garrik groaned in relief.

With each rise in temperature, some part of him unraveled. Loosening the leash he kept on himself, the taut muscles in his legs relaxed, and he sank deeper into the cot; his tense shoulders lowered; that hand mercilessly gripping the sheets slackened.

He groaned, and she tenderly whispered, “Rest, mighty prince. I have you tonight.”

Garrik’s breathing deepened. Then, a soft melody, the same one she’d heard in Maraz’s tavern, hummed like an ethereal lullaby as she threaded her other hand through his hair.

And maybe it was foolish—because it was … foolish and ridiculous and doubtful. But as her High Prince nestled into her hand, as her warmth soothed the horrors left etched into his skin, Alora dared to close her eyes and call to the demons plaguing him.

By whatever magic itwas that linked them, allowing her to feel him even when he wasn’t near, Alora searched across the darkened space between. She imagined what it may be like for the Lord of Minds to capture thoughts. What it was like for him when he caressed her mind.

And with that dangerous kernel of hope, a silver thread spun from starlight wove itself through her heart and pulled at her mind. Until she imagined herself standing behind her fiery wall, now lowered. Standing underneath a twinkling night inside her mind, where each star carried a memory.

She stared at the edge of that oblivion. Calling into the darkness. To him.

The polished metal of Garrik’s eyes opened—something … something specked inside.

“Let me in?” she whispered, brushing her hand through his silken hair.

His lips slowly parted as if to speak, studying her face. Instead of that warm voice, he said through that silver tether,It will not work.As if he knew what she was thinking of doing, those tormented eyes turned away, downcast and hopeless.Her magic is … too strong. Even I cannot stop her.

But Alora’s touch brought him back. Sweetly smiling as she asked, “Has anyone ever tried?”

Moonlight cast silhouettes against the canvas. Footsteps ambled by—his sentries, keeping camp safe. It drew herattention, but for only a moment before turning back to his mind.

Then, like calm ripples against a dock, Garrik cautiously shook his head, seemingly unsure.

Half a breath later, that gentle tingle caressed the borders of her mind. Darkness formed a figure like the one inside her tent. Those beautiful shadows offered a hand, and the moment she placed her palm inside, she misted into a veil of night. Carried on an icy wind until her stars faded and she stood at the edge of oblivion.

Sosodark. So cold.

She should’ve been afraid. Butnothingabout Garrik’s darkness scared her.

The air … it was difficult to breathe?—

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