Page 109 of Heat of the Everflame

Iwoke up some time later in bed, head resting on a pillow and a pile of blankets tucked around the outline of my body. On the bedside table, the flower had been plucked from my hair and laid atop a note:

Gone to find the others. Please don’t leave.

Thepleasewas underlined. Twice.

I sat up and yawned, then realized my arms were free of the crusted sand and dried blood from the fight in Ignios. Luther must have wiped it off before moving me to bed. He’d even set out a clean change of clothes beside a pitcher of ale and a silver dinner cloche emanating a delicious smell. I leapt up and wasted no time ravaging the food in rather embarrassing fashion. When I finished, I padded to the washroom to find a hot bath already drawn.

My stomach fluttered as I peeled off my bloody, ruined clothes and sank into the steaming water. Even in the midst of his own inner unrest, he was always protecting me, always thinking of me, even in the smallest of ways.

The woman he loves.

Taran’s words echoed in my thoughts as the heady buzz from the ale sent me in and out of sleep. I might have stayed there all night—I might have stayed there allyear—until I heard voices drift in from the other room. I finished washing up and reluctantly abandoned the water’s comforting warmth.

For the first time in weeks, I was clean and rested, my mind finally clear enough to take stock of the mess I was now at the center of.

I was not ready to be a Queen—my catastrophic Period of Challenging had proven that much. I didn’t have the right temperament or the right upbringing, and I’d been pushing away the few people willing to serve me. I was better equipped to start a war than to end one.

But the Crown sat atop my head nevertheless. Ready or not, my reign had begun, and so had the war.

It was time to start building my army.

I nodded firmly to myself and wrapped a towel beneath my arms, then marched out of the washroom—and straight into Luther’s chest.

His broad hands caught my hips to keep me from stumbling backward. He’d cleaned himself up as well, his fresh clothes and clean hair smelling strongly of his woodsy musk.

“You’re back,” I said.

“You’re awake.” His gaze wandered over my bare skin, sending a rush of heat everywhere it roamed. “It’s healing well.”

I blinked, distracted by his murky expression. “What?”

“This.” His right hand slid up my side and grazed the swell of my breast. My breath hitched.

It was an effort to tear my eyes away from him. When I did, I saw that the wound I’d taken in Ignios was gone, with a patch of new, pink skin in its place.

“Oh. Right. Yes.” I scoured his body for injuries, but nearly every inch of skin was covered in thick fabric. Even his throat was wrapped in a heavy scarf. “And yours?”

His face darkened. “Fine.”

I frowned. “If they’re still bothering you, I can make a salve—”

“They’re fine. Taran’s back, if you want to check his wounds.”

“Any news from Zalaric?”

“Not yet.”

We stood in silence, eyes locked. Though I made no move to leave, his grip tightened on my hip, as if I was being dragged away and he was fighting to hold on.

I drew in a breath, and his focus dropped to my mouth. His fingers grazed over my collarbone, lingering for a moment over my crescent-shaped scar, then traced the column of my throat, curving around my nape. He pulled me in like he might kiss me, then paused, forehead creasing as his lips hovered a breath from mine. His mind seemed far away, waging some internal battle he refused to let me join.

As the carousel of emotion spun across his face and I waited to see where it would stop, for a moment, his mind appeared to me like a cloud of smoke, as if the simplest wave of my hand might lay open his soul.

The urge to do it was thrilling—to finally know all his secrets and unearth the truth of why he’d been pulling away. It would be treachery of the darkest kind, a violation for which I might never atone—but if it was just the tiniest glimpse...

A shudder passed over me.What in the Flames was I thinking?Even if I were willing to betray Luther in such a horrific way, I couldn’tread minds.

“You’re shivering.” He pulled back and ran his palms over my arms in long strokes. “You should get dressed.”

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