Page 87 of Fragile Oath

“That makes sense,” was all I could think to say.

I looked down at the tin in my hand. Expressing feelings wasn’t something I felt would ever come naturally to me, but this was something I could help with.

Before I could give him the salve, Davin held his hand out to me instead. My heartbeat stuttered in my chest, even as I told myself how ridiculous I was being. I took his hand with my left one, reaching into the tin with my right.

Lightning crackled from every point our skin touched, but I ignored it. Or tried to, anyway, focusing on spreading the ointment evenly on the areas where the tension would settle in. The base of his thumb. His wrists. Then back again, massaging as I went.

“Do you always carry herbs on you?” His voice was low, and still, it startled me.

“I got into the habit, out of necessity,” I answered too honestly.

Davin froze, his fingers going rigid in my hand. I looked up to gauge his expression, and his eyes locked on mine, brimming with concern and ire. He sucked in a breath to speak, but I cut him off.

“Don’t,” I said with a brief shake of my head.

Don’t ruin this moment of normalcy. Don’t make me talk about this right now.

He closed his mouth, his gaze softening. I started to pull my hand back, but he tightened his hold on it. Gentle, firm,everything. I couldn’t let go – didn’t want to.

“Your uncle is leaving in the morning,” he murmured.

Of course he knew that.

“He is,” I replied evenly, afraid to say too much when I wasn’t sure where he was headed with his non sequitur observation.

“Alone?” he asked.

Oh.

“I told you I would stay.” The words came out before I could consider them, and I braced myself for him to remind me that I had said that once before.

But he didn’t.

“You don’t want to go home?” His eyes bored into mine, belying the importance of this question. It mattered so much to him what I wanted, even now, even after everything.

His thumb rubbed small circles on my hand, tracing the outside of my fingers in a maddening pattern that stole my breath and my senses and made me want to throw caution to the wind and tell him all the things I had pushed back to the shadows for reasons that felt so, so stupid now.

So I did.

“Iamhome.” I didn’t even look away when I said it. “You’re the only home I care about anymore.”

He swallowed, then took a breath, letting it out slowly. I could swear I counted a hundred maddening heartbeats in the span of those seconds.

“Will you tell me why you left my rooms that morning?” His voice was a quiet rasp.

I let out a small laugh between a laugh and a sob. It was all so ridiculous now.

“Because I was a mess,” I admitted. “And all my stuff was in my rooms.”

He studied my features, searching for a truth, a lie, some form of confirmation. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.” I willed him to believe me. More than anything, I needed him to hear the truth of those words.

“You weren’t scared? Second-guessing yourself?” Disbelief edged his tone.

I shook my head. “No. I thought I would be back before you woke.”

We both knew why I hadn’t been. I saw the moment it dawned in his eyes, the shadow that passed over his features when the last shred of doubt left him. Saw when it was replaced by the realization that I would have been on my way back to his bed, ready for him to wake up with me in his arms, to spend the morning continuing the prior night’s exploration of one another, if Alexei hadn’t taken me instead.

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