Embarrassment wiggled through my stomach at her observation. I suddenly felt very uncomfortable having her here, like she was seeing something that was meant for me and Ilyan only. I folded my arms around my torso, wishing I had made her wait outside, wishing I could ask her to leave.
“I have nightmares,” I said, the attempt to defend my choice coming off flat. Not like it made any difference, especially since I hadn’t had any of those nightmares in months, weeks for everyone else.
“Yes, Thom told me,” she said casually, and I narrowed my eyes at her. She had mentioned him more than once the few times that I had seen her, making it sound like Thom had somehow become her confidante in two days flat. I wanted to ask, but she wasn’t even looking at me anymore; her focus was out the large windows as she chewed on her lip.
I was suddenly glad that Wyn wasn’t watching me as I draped my arm over Ilyan, leaning over him as I ran the tips of my fingers over the scars on his chest. I pushed the warm pressure of my magic into the thin white lines as I traced them, the small surges forcing him awake.
Ilyan. I sent the whisper into his mind, knowing he could hear me even if he wasn’t fully alert. I need you to wake up.
His alarm peaked at my statement, his fear for me heightening in apprehension. His arms wrapped around me without warning, pulling me into him before I could get away, my feet leaving the floor as he rolled me on top of him.
“Jste all right, mi lasko?” His lips brushed against my jaw as he mumbled, his accent thick as he transitioned between English and Czech.
I’m fine, I said as I tried to fight the blush that moved up my cheeks from being in this position with him in front of someone else. “Wyn is here.”
“What do you mean Wyn is here?” he asked, his usual morning impatience invading his voice like the snap of a whip.
“She means I am standing next to you, watching this horrible display,” Wyn’s voice was a sugar smack that I didn’t think I had heard from her before. “So, if you wouldn’t mind putting a shirt on...”
I wasn’t sure if Wyn was being snotty or trying to be funny, but either way, I couldn’t ignore the way her presence made me feel guilty, or the way Ilyan’s hackles went up while the joy at having me in his arms vanished into frustration.
I looked up at her and narrowed my eyes, confusion setting in. I did not understand where this snappy attitude was coming from, or even why she was talking to him like this. Wyn had always been so polite, so formal, to Ilyan. She had even told me on several occasions that they didn’t get along because she was scared of him.
I looked to her, almost shocked to see her standing differently, her face a little more ruffled than fun loving. The change caught me off guard, almost like I was looking at someone else. I stretched my magic toward her, suddenly worried that it wasn’t her, but the magic was the same—if not a little warmer than it had been a few minutes before.
“Wynifred,” Ilyan said, his voice shifting into the deep, commanding tone he usually kept hidden. “What are you doing in my chamber?”
“I have something I need to talk to you about.”
“By invading my quarters before dawn? You should know better. We have a meeting scheduled for noon; it can wait until then, I am sure.” Ilyan’s voice was hard, the disappointment startling me. I had never heard him speak to someone so harshly before.
Ilyan sat up swiftly, his arms still tight around me as he kept me in his lap, obviously intent to keep me there. “I had no idea you and I were already back on such loose terms.”
“You know you missed me, My Lord,” she cooed, the honey in her voice increasing, if that was possible. “You can blame Jos for letting me in.”
I looked up at her and narrowed my eyes at her, thoroughly lost now. I had thought it weird before, but this behavior was downright alarming. I held onto Ilyan tighter, hating how her voice made me feel almost possessive of him. My eyes narrowed at her as I demanded an explanation in silence. Her eyes met mine, and she wilted, her face changing as our eyes met, the lines softening as she looked at me with the same fear she had a minute before.
The Wyn I knew came to life before me, just as I felt Talon’s magic flare inside of her. My heart clenched at the realization, the understanding of what was going on. She was talking to Ilyan, her mate’s best friend, someone who must be reminding her of what she had lost. I could understand that pain; perhaps not to that extent, but I understood. The heartbreak was fueling her frustrations, her pain.
“It is not Joclyn that I am speaking to; it is you, and you would do well to remember the respect that I demand.” His voice was stiff as his arms tightened around me. His grip was firm, as if he was afraid I was going to leave, and judging by the amount of embarrassment in my body, it was a good presumption.
“Yes, My Lord,” Wyn said, her voice stiff and uncomfortable as she curtseyed.
“Good, but for now, why don’t you wait outside for me.”