Page 91 of Wings of Cruelty and Flame

Igrunted, trying to turn over in bed, but my body resisted so violently that I swore. What the fuck? I tried to unglue my eyelashes but they weren’t having it, so I moved my hands down to my leg, trying to untangle the sheets that were keeping me captive.

“Remove those bandages and I will end you, Ameirah Saber.”

A firm hand caught mine, pulling it from under the sheets and flattening my arm to the bed.

“Varidian…?”

I tried to extricate my hand to rub my eye but he held onto me.

“Can I rub my eyes, or is that not allowed?” I grumbled.

“If I see you so much as twitch towards your leg, I’ll tie your wrists to the bed frame,” he threatened, deep and rough.

I sighed, but he allowed me to move my arms, rubbing the sleep from my lashes until I was able to open my eyes, blinking at the room—our bedroom in the Diamond, remarkably intact—and my husband whose face was entirely too close. His pretty hair brushed my cheeks when I tried to sit up. His hands covered my shoulders for the express purpose of pinning me to the bed, and not in a sexy way.

I glared at his too-close, too-handsome face and—oh. There were dark shadows carved around his eyes, his facial hair thicker than when I last saw him and now I looked closely, his gorgeous hair seemed a little… dull.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” I asked at the same time he demanded, “How do you feel?”

I raised an eyebrow, insisting he answer first.

A muscle fluttered through his jaw. “My wife was unconscious with an injury bad enough to take down a seasoned rider and you had so much iron in your blood that it took two doctors and a healer to purge it.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t like the idea of so many people touching me while I was unconscious.”

“I would have ended them if they were untoward,” Varidian said, his voice slipping lower.

“I know,” I murmured, softer than I meant to speak. “I still don’t like it.” My hands ended up on his shoulders, one stroking up his neck where angry veins stood in contrast to his skin. “And I feel… fine.”

He caught one of my hands in his, bringing my knuckles to his mouth. “Lie to me again, Ameirah. I dare you.”

An inappropriate heat started in my lower belly. I slid my hands down his chest, taking my time, both appreciating his body and checking for injuries. “What will you do if I tell another lie?”

“You don’t want to find out, menace,” he warned, his voice lower, quieter.

I did want to find out. Right now. But there was concern in his eyes, and worry written in his tired face, the exhausted lineof his body. “My leg feels numb, so it doesn’t pain me now. No doubt when whatever numbness it was treated with wears off, it’ll blaze like hell. I ache pretty much everywhere, but that won’t kill me. And I’m not sweaty and hot anymore, so… things are looking up.”

I wasn’t dead; I was very fond of not being dead.

“Good girl for telling the truth.” His lips found my forehead, lingering in a warm press that made me sigh.

I continued my exploration of his body, the warmth of him against me exquisite. “Now tell me the truth. How areyou?”

“I’ve been worse,” he dismissed, his next kiss lingering against my head.

“I’m serious, Varidian.” I skimmed down his ribs to his stomach and froze when his whole body locked up above me. “You’re hurt,” I realised. “Show me.”

I grabbed the hem of his short tunic before he could stop me, lifting it a few inches before he stopped me, his hand snapping around my wrist hard enough to make me wince.

The hurt I’d felt all week came back in force—all the times he’d kept me at arm’s reach, stopped me touching him. He never undressed in front of me since that first night. “What are you hiding?” I asked, pain cinching my chest. “I’m your wife, Varidian, and I know our marriage is new but—you can trust me, you know that, don’t you?”

Pain flickered through his blue eyes but he didn’t release my wrist. “I know that. I do trust you, Ameirah but you—I can’t share this secret.”

“The secret of your torso?” I huffed, not understanding. He’d stripped off his shirt that first night, making me dumbstruck with the sight of him, and I wasn’tentitledto his body but—the secrecy hurt. I didn’t understand what had changed.

Except… he hadn’t really known me that first night, had he? He hadn’t realised I had death at my fingertips, or I’d never hada wyvern, or I killed my baby sister and an innocent clergyman. The more he got to know me… the further he pulled away from me.

“Never mind,” I breathed, my stomach tightening, whirling. “I understand.”

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