Page 95 of Blooms of Darkness

“They were the best cookies I’ve ever had. And that damn dandelion tea.” I chuckled, although it came out strained and wet with fresh tears. “It became an instant favorite. Every week since then, we met for tea and secret cookies. Some days, I sat quietly and watched her work. Other days she sat and listened to my mindless prattle.” I smiled, pulling away from Kade’s fingers when I pressed my forehead to my arms, closing my eyes and picturing her small workroom and the smell of lemon and tea.

“Every time I left, I felt like there would be nothing too hard to handle. That everything would be okay,” I whispered.

Kade poured water over my back to clean the shampoo off without moving me.

Inky dark shadows curled over the sides of the tub, caressing the water, and breaking the surface until they rested on my shins and calves. Just like before, they comforted me, surrounding and pressing on me just enough to make me feel, safe.

Ridiculous for inanimate objects.

But true.

I relaxed for the first time since last night, tilting my head back as Kade rinsed the rest of my hair. I let my body relax and stretched my legs out for the first time in hours.

It sounded like he rummaged around behind me. “What comes next?” he asked.

I sniffled and twisted to the side, pointing toward a smaller bottle. “That one,” I said. “It goes over the top of my hair smoothly. Not scrubbed in.”

He grabbed the bottle and turned back to me, suddenly stiffening. He released a low, menacing growl, curling his lip. His eyes were low on my body, and I looked down, suddenly aware of what he’d see.

My scar.

“Who did that to you?”

I cleared my throat, turning around to face the front of the tub, letting his shadows cover my side once more. “No one. It’s just a mark.”

“I know what a fucking stab wound looks like, and this one is worse than most,” he said, his voice ragged, dry, and filled with fury. “Who. Did. It?”

The shadows in the tub had stilled, but I wasn’t afraid, despite my tremor.

I tapped my head, hopefully signaling to him to keep going while he stewed. I couldn’t face talking about Andras tonight. Not after losing Elisabeth.

Not after truly believing the words he’d tormented me with for the first time in my adult life.

Kade’s hands in my hair were gentle, despite the anger radiating from him.

“I’m not ready to talk about it,” I said finally.

He paused. “Is the person who marked you dead?”

The silence between us lingered, and Kade resumed running his hands through my hair steadily.

The silence strained further. But I gave him the answer. “No.”

He didn’t pause or hesitate this time. He merely continued stroking my hair. Fates, how was he so good at this? “They will be. When you’re ready.”

His words, the tone he took, the rigidity the shadows now possessed, everything about him was menacing. Threatening. Yet, I wasn't afraid. I didn't doubt his words, nor feel pressured to tell him more. The way he spoke was like a vow.

I closed my eyes, letting go of everything as he rinsed my hair. His hands, unfailingly steady, stroked at the strands until he finished.

“Done,” he said, letting go of me. “Now we should get you into bed.”

I hesitated before I rose from the water, more aware than ever the second I stood up, he’d see me completely naked. Before I could voice my concern, Kade sent his shadows to cover me, forming a dark curtain around my body. He grabbed my nightgown, which had been strewn across the sink.

I lifted my hands above my head as he slipped it down my body, the shadows flowing out beneath it, keeping close to me until my nightgown covered me. The absence of them once they withdrew left an additional strange loneliness.

He took my hand, patiently walking me back into my room. Leading me to the edge of my bed, he pulled my covers back. I couldn’t help but stare at him as he moved with such confidence, knowing exactly what to do without overstepping. He ran his thumb across my knuckles before bringing my hand to his lips. “Try to get some sleep.”

He started to walk away, but I refused to let go of him. “Please don’t go.”

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