Fantasy of Fire (The Tainted Accords #3)(96)

I can’t summon enough wetness in my mouth to clear the parched dryness in my throat. I need to say the name.

I rip the name through cracked lips. “Jovan.”





Chapter Twenty-Four


I lift a hand and rub my encrusted eyelids. Where am I? My arm trembles and I lower it to my side to focus on fully opening my eyes. It takes a long time. My surroundings are blurred together in a grey and black mess.

Something shifts beside me, startling me enough to bring the room into focus. I jerk in the bed and clamp down on a surprised scream as pain shoots from my back through to the front of my ribs.

The pain takes precedence over whatever woke me. My hands clumsily open my nightgown. I blink down at the bandaging wrapped beneath my breasts. With clumsy movements I feel for the source of my pain. Judging by the itching in my back I have a wound there too. Did someone run me through? My mind throbs as I strain to remember the details.

I breathe deeply as my head spins. Trying to remember is obviously a bad idea.

I let my gaze fall to my right and my breath catches in my throat. Jovan. I lift a hand, tracing the dark shadows under his eyes. He’s fast asleep. Tears build in my eyes, and an exhausted sob escapes me. I bite my sore lip so I don’t make a sound as I draw my fingers over his face. My shoulders shake as tears fall unrestrained over my cheeks and into my hair. I thought I’d never see him again. That desperate thought, I remember without effort. I wonder how long he’s been here. Long enough to succumb to his bone-deep fatigue. He looks worried. Though I’ve never watched him sleeping, so there’s no way to know if there’s usually a small frown between his brows.

My crying eventually wakes him. I watch as his eyes blink open. He smiles sleepily at me, the frown disappearing for an instant. But reality soon kicks in.

“Lina?” He’s on his knees in a flash. I grimace at the jolt it causes through the bed. Definitely a matching wound in the back.

“Lina?” he repeats.

I lick my lips, trying to talk. This time, I can’t force his name out.

“Don’t try to talk, just rest,” he says, one hand hovering above my head, while the other is held immobile above my stomach. “You’re really awake?” he says in disbelief. He darts furtive looks around the room. “What do I do? What do you need?”

If I had anything left I’d smile at his panic. But I just want him to come closer and never leave. I feel like I’ve been dreaming of this for an eternity.

“Water,” he decides, backing away from the bed. I let my eyes close as he searches for the water.

He rushes back to my other side.

“No! Lina, come back,” he whispers. My eyes are closed now, though, and they can’t seem to open. A head rests against my own. A kiss presses against my temple.

“I need you to come back.” His plea forces my lids open and I shift my head to blink at him.

“Stay awake,” he commands. He tips a trickle of water down my throat and it’s like scratching an itch with one finger. He must see it on my face.

I almost cry as he takes the cool liquid away.

“Shh, baby. It’s okay. I don’t want to give you too much. You’ve been so sick.” I forgive him. But only because he’s given me what I want. His arms around me.

Sobs wrack my pain-filled body. I’m not sad. It’s that I’m so happy; so grateful to be here with him. That, and the utter weariness, which is like a blanket so heavy I can’t lift it. “Jovan,” I whisper.

“I’m here.” He rocks me gently. “I’m not leaving.” His voice is hoarse, thick with emotion. “I’ll never leave you.” He wipes my tears away.

*

I wake. It’s easier to open my eyes this time. I blink over at Sadra, who decorates a tunic from a rocking chair. She smiles at me and hurries to the door to speak to someone just outside before returning to the bed.

“Tatuma,” she says softly, stroking my hair back. “Welcome back.”

Unlike Jovan, she gives me water immediately. And more. I gulp it down greedily, that and some broth.

I’m sorry for it afterward.

The door slams open just as I lower my head to a bucket provided by the gentle woman.

“What’s wrong?” the king barks.

“She’s unused to the food,” Sadra frets. “The broth was too much.”

I turn from swilling water in my mouth and large hands press me back against the pillows. I clutch my stomach until the pain recedes.

“We’ll try again in a few hours,” Sadra whispers. The sound of her closing the door echoes through the room.

“How do you feel?” Jovan asks, stroking my hair with his thumb. I summon the driest look I possess and level it at him until the ghost of a smile graces his mouth. He leans forward and places a kiss, whisper-soft, on my forehead.

“I’ll leave you to rest,” he says, beginning to untangle himself. The hand resting on his forearm tightens, stopping him. He searches my face for a time.

I squeeze my eyes shut. “Don’t go.”

Tension leaves him like he’s shaking snow off his clothing. He smiles and walks to the door, speaking quickly to the person, or likely several persons, outside. I frown as the conversation keeps him away for too long.

He returns, and instead of settling into his former position, he surprises me by removing his boots and lifting the furs by my side to slip in beside me. He lifts my head gently and places it on top of his hard arm. He pulls me slightly toward him, wrapping his free arm low over my abdomen.