Page 94 of Of Spindles and Nightfall
Aryana
It took almost an hour of ducking in and out of alcoves to get Zarathos back to his chambers unnoticed. As they slipped from alcove to alcove, he was able to regain some of his muscle movement and stumbled with her down the last corridor to his room. He staggered across the floor and collapsed onto the satin sheets.
“Vampress,” he murmured, “words cannot express…”
“I did what I had to do to fulfill our bargain,” she said, although that didn’t explain this ache of concern in her chest even now that he was safe. “I thought the potion caused your seizures, did youtake it before the banquet?”
He shook his head. “It can cause seizures but not always immediately after ingesting it. Sometimes the response is more delayed.”
“So you are saying they can happen at any time?”
“Unfortunately, that is correct.”
“Then why the hell are you taking it?”
The corners of his mouth tightened. “It was clever of you, how you got us out of there.”
She sat on the bed next to him, looking him over. A little annoyed at his avoidance tactics, but she did have a more pressing question burning inside her. “The question is, why do you keep protecting me if you are only planning on killing me in the end?”
“You didn’t ask for this. For any of it.” He reached out and brushed a strand of her bedraggled hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear.
Her eyes closed briefly, her annoyance slipping away. The touch was both aggravating and confusing. “I offered to be your kalator.Imade that part of the bargain,” she said. “But that doesn’t answer my question. Your actions make little sense.”
“Would they if I were a human?”
“No! I don’t know…”
His hand moved, and he cupped her cheek, sliding his thumb tenderly along her cheekbone. “I should kill you in the end, shouldn’t I? I'm nothing but a worthless demon, incapable of selflessness.”
Oh, gods, his touch. The way he was looking at her. She leaned into his warmth, enjoying his caress, wanting him to continue. “You’re not worthless.”
“Yes, I am. I am a broken, sickly bastard. And you, I’ve forced you to care. Forced you to risk everything for your enemy simply to survive. If that doesn’t make me a worthless piece of shit, what does?”
“Are you saying you’re sorry?”
He retracted his hand, glancing elsewhere. “Apologies are selfish. Mere words to make one feel better about what they’ve done.”
She clasped his fingers and pressed his knuckles to her lips. “I wouldn’t mind hearing those words all the same.”
Something close to fear flashed in his gaze, but she refused to let him pull away. “Aryana—”
A knock came at the door. They both didn’t move, staring at each other with wide eyes.
“Who is it?” Zarathos demanded.
“Forgive us, sire, but we were supposed to take all of the kalators after the meal.”
“What for?”
“To prep them for the upcoming trial.”
Aryana sucked in a breath, and they exchanged a glance.
A possessiveness flickered across his gaze, but he said, “I’ll send her out.”
She shifted to let go of his fingers, but his grip tightened on her, and she gazed into his eyes, noting the furrow between his brow. “Get the armor.” He squeezed her hand before releasing her.
She almost laughed. If they were supposed to take her after the banquet, it would be expected that she looked the part. “There’s not enough time,” she hissed back.
