Page 82 of Blooms of Darkness

I stood from the bed. “I have to help and do something. You all have taken care of everything you can.”

“You can’t do anything if you’re dead,” Ian said harshly, but firm. Logically I knew he was right, and he’d only snapped at meout of fear. The nonlogical part of me, though, balked. I doubted myself enough as it was.

I took a step toward my friends. “See, I’m fine.” As soon as I said it, I stumbled forward, Ian having to reach out and catch me.

He snorted. “Back in bed. We’ll figure it out. He can see her sleeping, at least he’ll be able to put eyes on her.”

“It can work. I’ll make sure I’m here,” Elisabeth said with a nod.

I groaned. Ian held me, grasping my arms and helping me in bed. Lucien paced atop the comforter, agitated, but no one shooed him away.

I caught a flash of my bloodied tunic.

I should have been dead.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, and once more, pain and exhaustion took me away from them.

Ian.

Ian was bleeding out.

“Healing is a basic Fae ability. The mongrels on the streets can heal cuts, Princess. Please tell me you’re not so pathetic you can’t even do that.”

“Ian,” I cried.

His body lay unmoving, and blood pooled around him. A still, crimson pool.

I couldn’t heal him. I couldn’t heal myself.

I sobbed as Andras’s dry, humorless laugh echoed throughout the dungeon.

I took a deep breath. No, that scent. It didn’t belong here.

The frigid air inside the dungeon accosted me greedily while grime and mold crept over the corners where the water endlessly dripped. Ian’s coppery scent of blood normally filled my senses.

But that smell.

I moaned as something stroked my hair, and a voice broke through my memories, calling to me. No, comfort didn’t belong here. Not in this nightmare.

Comfort never appeared in the dungeons with Andras.

Not ever.

I pulled my body from my normal nightmares and returned to the real world. Squeezing my eyes shut, I stayed frozen in place until I felt the soft bed plush around me.

The familiar smell, lingering in the darkness remained, despite the nightmare ending.

The scent of fresh rain, of the storms dancing through Ellevail during growing season, swept over me as I inhaled. I couldn’t stop myself from latching onto the feeling. Safe. The feeling of comfort remained, too.

As my eyes fluttered open, I cried out at the man in front of me.

Both had come from him.

Kade wore an unreadable expression, but if I knew him better, I might say I caught him by surprise, opening my eyes. His hand had been raised, but he brought it down to his lap.

“Were you stroking my hair?” I asked.

I raised myself up onto my elbow, wincing, but wanting to look at him. He was wet, hair dripping onto my floor as he sat on a chair, which hadn’t been bedside before.

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