Page 12 of Blood On His Lips

A soft brush of angel’s wings against my burgeoning panic, a sigh, and then—

“Look into my eyes, Aerinne.”

I wanted to tell him how cheesy that sounded, but I lifted my lids and sank into him, let him take away the pain, send me into deep sleep to slow my heart rate and the blood rushing through my veins.

Let him. . .

ChapterFour

I’d always assumedI’d die painfully in the streets of Everenne. I just hadn’t thought it would be cradled in the arms of my worst enemy.

Naming him my worst enemy felt like drinking salt water after swallowing whole thorns.

Jagged. Stinging. An agonized lie.

My mind drifted. I wasn’t in the gray space in my head where I often met Darkan’s shadowy figure. It was more as if I observed from outside my body. I would have frowned, had I physical form to express emotion. I hadn’t known I was able to. . .what was it even called? Projection?

Renaud’s eyes shimmered, proving the situation more dire than he had let on when I was conscious. But his stony expression threatened reprisal should anyone note his weakness.

My blood had joined that already soaking his shirt, a pool beneath us, the ends of his hair absorbing it. I watched him cradle my body, grief tearing at the edges of my mind.

Is death so foreign to you, Prince? Have you the never lost someone you—

Someone he what?

Of course, there was no response.

A Fae approached and knelt at my side: Ishaan, the healer. The Prince’s arms tightened around me, but he relinquished his burden and rose, backing away exactly two steps. A silent, lurking menace, eyes missing nothing.

I wanted to hear.

I drifted closer to Renaud, and suddenly I saw through his eyes, heard through his ears. He. . .scooted aside, wordlessly making room for me.

“If she dies, there will be war,” Numair said. His shoulders leaned towards me as his hand opened and closed reflexively as if seeking a sword—the dagger of his glare pointed at Renaud.

“Are you not loyal to your Prince, boy?”

Numair curled his lip. “I’m loyal to Lady Aerinne Capulette.”Never a Montague,were his unspoken words. Even if a Montague was Everenne’s ruler.

“If you are loyal to her, then you are loyal to me.” A flash of pale-eyed warning. “I overlook your insolence for her sake.”

Juliette tilted her head at Renaud. Numair snapped his mouth shut, jaw ticking.

I cringed.

This was more than a claim, it was a denotation of status.

Of consort status, at the least, confirming what I’d suspected and he had all but declared.“I would never insult Maryonne by taking her daughter as a concubine,”he’d said.

At least no one politically important heard this gross slip of Renaud’s sanity. Faronne would need,Iwould need, time to prepare for the fallout before this became public knowledge—if the House High Lords had not already guessed.

Ishaan straightened a while later. “I’ve done what I can to heal her insides. She’ll be tender for several days, and I would suggest she not attend the negotiations. I know what my suggestions are worth, however.” He paused, voice dry. “This isn’t the first time I’ve tended to House Faronne. They believe convalescence is more offensive than dying.”

He didn’t have to put it like that. It made us sound a little stupid.

“We’ll take her home,” Juliette said.

The Prince lowered to one knee and scooped me into his arms, rising like I weighed nothing. I wasn’t short, and I had the physique of a well-fed female warrior—muscle under curves. “You may lead.”

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