Page 95 of Shielded Heart 1
Samantha blushed and slowly raised her head.
He lifted his head as well, meeting her gaze again. “I’ve known him for a long time, Samantha. I’ve bled for him, and he’s bled for me. Before we came to Arthos… I don’t know what he told you, but I found him in abadstate. I don’t want to find him like that—or worse—again. He’s my oldest friend, my brother, and I trust him with my life, even if he acts like an arrogant asshole most of the time.”
Drakkal stepped closer to her. She reflexively backed away, but she bumped into the wall, halting her retreat.
Moving his arm with deliberate care, he settled a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t need to fear me. Arc doesn’t give his trust easily, but he’s given it allto you. So…you have mine, too. I’m here for you, Samantha. To keep you safe, just like I want to keep him safe.”
“I won’t hurt him,” Samantha said, voice full of conviction.
“I’m not worried about you hurting him, terran. I worry about Arc hurting himself.”
She frowned. “I won’t let him do that, either.”
Drakkal swept his gaze over her, and his eyes softened. He lowered his hand and stepped back. “He’s been in his workshop all day. Won’t answer anyone, won’t let me in. Get in there and give him a kick in the ass for me.”
Samantha’s brows fell as she glanced past Drakkal, toward the workshop. Arcanthus had been fine that morning. “What happened?”
Drakkal shrugged. “He won’t talk to me. Usually, I want nothing more than for him to shut up. When he actually does, though… Something’s wrong. Something bad. He gets like this every now and then, and there’s always something behind it, but it can take days to get him to tell me what’s eating him up.”
Her stomach clenched, but it had nothing to do with hunger. Whatever was tormenting Arcanthus, he had locked himself away, was suffering alone. Momentary doubt flashed through her mind; would he even see her? Would he let her in?
“I’ll do what I can,” she said.
“I know.” Drakkal nodded and walked away, slowing briefly to add, “Find me if he doesn’t let you in, and we’ll just break down a door.”
The corners of Sam’s mouth rose in faint smile. “Drakkal? Thank you.”
He grunted and offered a wave as he strode down the hallway.
Samantha turned away from the azhera to face toward Arc’s workshop again, and her smile faded. She strode down the hallway, pushed onward by her need to see him, to hearhim, to know he was okay. Something twisted inside her—a nagging fear that something was terribly wrong.
She reached the door at the end of the corridor and raised her hand, pressing the call button on the wall console. There was no answer. She waited a moment before pressing it again, then once more.
She was about to press it a fourth time when Arc’s voice came through the intercom.
“Leave!”
Samantha flinched.
At least he’s alive in there.
She pressed the button again.
“Drakkal, I am not in the—”
“It’s Samantha, Arc.”
The intercom went silent, but she knew it was still on.
“Please let me in,” she said gently.
Silence stretched between them for long enough that she began to doubt whether he would open the door. The tightness in her chest intensified, approaching the point at which she feared she’d no longer be able to draw breath.
The door slid open without another word from him. Samantha released a shaky breath and immediately filled her lungs with fresh air, steeling herself for whatever awaited beyond the threshold.
She stepped inside, and the door closed behind her.
The workshop’s lights were turned down, leaving only the faintest red glow on the walls—the sort of light that would’ve been cast by a fire that had burned down to embers. The creatures inside the large tanks were reduced to dark, unidentifiable shapes, and the whole room was cast in a layer of obscuring shadow that gave it a gloomy air.
