Page 19 of The Light Falls
He studies me for several seconds before slowly nodding. “A rune would ward against the sleepwalking, but it won’t stop whatever is causing it to happen.”
Thinking of what is likely causing this behavior makes me shudder, but I can’t continue to sleepwalk. Not only is the garden dark and perfect for an ambush, but my behavior isn’t very queenly, either.
“I understand. I want the rune. Do you think you can stand my company a little while longer?”
A bittersweet smile appears on his pouty lips. “The tools are in my room.” He pivots and heads toward a small balcony on the left. “Hold on.” His lean, muscular arms tighten as large, red-gold wings emerge from his back.
My breath catches in my throat, not in fear, but in awe. They look downy soft in the light cascading down from his room. I ache to touch them, but I don’t dare. Instead, I greedily let my eyes feast on their glory. What happens to them when he regenerates?
“My entire body, including my wings, is engulfed in faery fire until I’m reborn in the same form,” he answers, apprehension lining his voice. “Why?”
My eyes widen, and I feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment. “I didn’t realize I asked the question out loud. Sorry. You’re the only Phoenix I know.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I want to cut off my tongue. “Fuck. I’m sorry. Again. I only wondered because I don’t know anything about your race or any other light Fae race beyond the aristocrats in this court. I grew up in the Underworld, remember?” Worriedly, I stare up at him and wait for him to either dump me on the ground or accept my apology.
Instead of answering, his wings flap hard a couple of times, and we fly up to the balcony. He removes the arm from under my knees but continues to hold me until my feet touch the ground. Once I’m steady, he pulls his other arm from behind my back.
“Stay here. Let me get something for your feet,” he orders me.
My brow furrows, and I glance down. Just like yesterday morning, my feet are covered in dirt. I whip up my hands and see they’re caked too.
“Both times, you seemed to be searching for something in the dirt,” he informs me, an inquisitive light in his eyes. “You didn’t wake last night.”
He’d taken me back to my room last night. My embarrassment deepens, and I groan.
“Thank you. I didn’t even know I was sleepwalking until I saw the dirt in the mirror.”
While he’s getting me supplies, I ask the question that’s been bugging me all day. “What were you doing in the garden this morning?” It looked like he was hiding something. He mumbles something, but I can’t hear him. “Wait. Were you hiding my footprints?”
“Nobody saw you last night but me,” he explains. “I didn’t think you would want anyone to know.”
Bending down, he sets two large stone bowls full of water on the floor. He kneels and lathers his hands, then picks up my foot and places it in the water.
I immediately put a hand out to stop him. “Please. I’m embarrassed enough. I can use magic to clean my feet.”
Without answering, he picks up my foot and starts to wash it. Strong fingers press firmly into my arch, and I practically melt into the floor. “Mmm. That feels incredible.” My words come out with a breathless sigh. A low heat begins to burn inside me.
Trying to keep my mind off how good his hands feel, I stare down at his bent head. Legendary warrior. His arms and legs have nice muscular tone, but the rest of him is lean. Too lean. It’s hard to picture. Solandis wouldn’t exaggerate, though, and out of everyone here, she knows what it truly means to give someone that label. My heart hurts for how much he’s endured for his people. Too much.
He lifts my foot out and places it down on his hard thigh, where he has a towel waiting to dry it off.
Not once does he look up.
After both feet are done, he stands and reaches for my hands. Strong, soapy hands scrub the dirt off, sliding in between my fingers and up my arm until every inch is clean. He leans down and grabs the other bowl and motions for me to rinse them off.
When I’m done, he hands me a towel and takes both bowls into the bathroom. I hear water running for several minutes, then he comes out drying his hands.
His gaze skims my body. “Where do you want this rune? It shouldn’t be in a conspicuous place or people will question its purpose.”
My hand goes to the place behind my ear where Rivan tattooed a rune on me when I was younger. I don’t know why I never questioned Leandra when she sent me here, but all these years later, I can’t help but wonder about its purpose.
“What did she ask you to do?”
His shoulders drop, but after a deep breath, he tells me, “First, you need to know… The sorceress asked Nyssa for a favor, and she granted it. When I protested, Nyssa ordered me to do it. I had no choice.”
The words fill me with dread.
Rivan’s voice is almost hoarse with anguish when he continues, “Someone gave you power. Leandra wanted me to remove it or bind it, but I couldn’t. The best I could do was limit it.”
Shocked, I stare at him. The only power I’ve ever had was the ability to mimic others’ magic, but it was so limited, it was almost useless. It only worked on certain people and left me as soon as they weren’t near. I didn’t dare count on it to save me. And no matter how hard I tried, it never worked on Leandra. The person I needed to escape from the most.
