A Ruin of Roses (Deliciously Dark Fairytales #1)(73)

“You will have it,” he whispered, and I could tell his strength was failing him. He needed sleep. “You were meant for great things, Finley. Things this kingdom cannot provide you. One day you will see a crack in your cage, and you will fly.”





16





I blinked my eyes open and took a moment to get my bearings. The sun highlighted dust motes swimming lazily through the air of my room. I breathed in the familiar smells, happy to be home again. Happy to have gotten to see my family.

It took me a moment to realize Nyfain’s eyes were open and staring at me.

A shock of panic made me suck in a breath and jerk, thinking it was a sightless gaze. Thinking he’d died between the time I crawled into Sable’s bed in the early morning and now. He blinked, though, and resumed his stare.

I eased back to relax on my side, facing him.

“How do you feel?” I asked, bone-weary and my limbs aching. I’d needed stitches, salves, bandages, and rest, and I’d gotten everything but the last.

“How do you feel?”

“Great. I didn’t almost die, though. Mostly because you saved me.”

“I was the reason you ran away in the first place. The reason you even had to run away. The reason you are trapped in this kingdom—need I go on? I didn’t save anything.”

“Your surliness is back. You must be feeling better.” I yawned and stretched, flopping to my back.

“How many of those creatures did you kill before I got there?”

I thought back. “I think only one. The rest I just stabbed with a pocketknife. It didn’t seem to slow them down much.”

“And you were hurt at the time?”

“Yeah. The hellhound with the fin got me. That wasn’t pleasant. I think I’d rather take on boars. You can at least drop down on boars without worrying about being stabbed with a fin.”

“Before that?”

“A dybbuk. He was nothing.”

I turned my head to the side, meeting that beautiful gaze. The lighter gold streaks were highlighted by the sunlight filtering into the room. His wild hair and loose curls made his sharp cheekbones stand out.

“Did the curse change the color of your dragon’s scales?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Were your eyes always gold?”

“No. Close, though. Hazel. But something about forcing the shift burned my irises. Or maybe it is something baked into the curse, forcing me to remember what was lost. I need only look in a mirror.”

I nodded and then pushed to sitting. I stretched again for good measure.

“You should get more sleep,” he said. “You look terrible.”

I swung my legs over the edge and stood, my pajama bottoms—which I’d put on fresh after patching myself up yesterday—falling to my ankles. I bent over him, running my fingers over his back. The black of the poison was all but gone. I pulled up some of the bandages covering the claw marks. Only a few blackened threads wove through the puffy pink-red wound.

“Normal everlass doesn’t do much about poison,” I said, biting my lip. “We might need to chance a little more of the crowded plant later. Maybe half a leaf or a quarter. I’ll see in a few hours. You’ll need to rest anyway.”

“I need to get back to the castle.” He made a move to get up.

I braced my palm between his shoulder blades, keeping him put. “Yeah, because it’s a fantastic idea to let the demons see you like this. You’d be easy to finish off, Nyfain. This kingdom can’t have that. You will rest for a day or two, and then we can see. How’s the pain?”

“I don’t need to be coddled, princess. I can take care of myself.”

I stepped back so he could see me from his prone position on the bed. I held up my hands. “Who are you talking to right now?” I looked around for show. “Are you under the impression someone in this room will believe your bullshit?”

His lips tweaked up in a small smile. “I guess just one person.”

“Who?”

His smile spread wider. Him.

“Thought so.” I smoothed his bandage back down and sat on the slice of bed near the edge. “I will try again, and let’s try to cooperate this time, shall we? I know your weakness.”

“Everyone knows my weakness—pushy, stubborn women.”

I flattened my lips in a “you’re lame” expression, even though he couldn’t see it. “Not quite.”

I put my finger to the top of one of his wing scars and lightly trailed down. He shivered, and goosebumps rolled over his flesh. He gripped the pillow in two fists and turned his face downward. A soft groan rumbled deep in his chest.

His muffled voice came from the pillow. “No, princess.”

I felt a wicked grin cross my face. “How’s the pain?” I asked, repositioning my finger at the top again and lightly pressing down.

The muscles along his back tightened. His bottom half moved, pushing his pelvis down into the mattress.

Was that simple touch enough to get him hard?

My core tightened. That thought right there was enough to make me wet.

I glanced back to make sure the door was closed. I knew I should back off. He needed to rest.

But the guy was sexy as hell, scars and all, and he’d been tormenting me for days. He deserved a little payback. The poison was under control for now, and the bandages would catch any blood that spilled if his gashes were irritated. Plus, he had all day to rest.