She found it difficult to breathe with him touching her and looking at her like that, but she obeyed. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, tense and painfully aware of his presence before she finally settled into a semi-sense of calm.
She had no idea what she was doing, but she headed his advice and focused on her heart, imagining how it felt and moved. The more she relaxed into it, the more she started to sense something else there. It was almost like another substance flowing with her blood—an essence that pulsed with each pump of her heart. She pictured herself reaching in and touching it.
“Dodz watsrang, little star. Now, direct it through your body and show it what you want. Picture your body healing.”
The hand resting on her chest pressed in, and she felt his other gently wrap around her throat, over her pulse. She shut it out, pushing everything away until it was all just background noise.
She focused on that humming power and reached toward it again, urging it to expand, to flow through her body and make her whole. It instantly reacted, flaring bright and hot inside her.
Her back arched and she gasped, trying to shove it back, but no longer able to control it. She felt Jaren’s hands grasp her face, but the heat continued building until she was burning from the inside out, fire consuming her body and soul.
Throwing her head back, the power exploded through her like star fire, and she screamed.
Chapter 17
EITHAN
Walking back inside was the hardest thing Eithan had ever done. He should be the one to escort her back to her room. Gods knew he wanted to. He wanted to send his guards off and bask in her tentative smiles and nervous mannerisms, maybe even steal a goodnight kiss.
He sighed, leaning his forehead against the wall. She needed her space. Like always, Sulian had pushed too hard. The poor woman had honestly looked seconds away from a full-fledged panic attack.
He’d go back for her tomorrow. He knew he could win her over, one night wouldn’t change that. It’s not like she’d choose to stay in the armory over the life he could give her in the palace. She just needed the space and time to calm down, and she’d understand.
So rather than rush outside like a man possessed, he dismissed an amused—and too observant for his own good—Coleman for the night and attempted to speak to his father. Only to be turned away, the men standing outside the emperor’s door claiming he’d “retired for the night.”
Bullshit. Eithan knew his earlier interference in helping Vera escape had angered the temperamental man. Sulian would likely spend the rest of the night contemplating the best way to make him regret it. Typical.
Brushing it off, he returned to his rooms. After a quick bath, he spent the next few hours immersing himself in Bhasurian texts. He’d had the scribes in the royal library locate them earlier. Halfway through the second one, he was so engulfed, the sound of frantic knocking had him almost throwing it.
Coleman entered, breathing heavily. “I’m sorry for disturbing you, your highness, but Lesta came barreling into the barracks asking for an audience with you.”
Sliding his legs off the bed, he threw on a tunic and snatched his boots. “Did he say anything else?”
“Just that it was urgent. Something to do with Miss Vera.”
No. No, no, no. He’d never raced across the grounds so fast in his life, all the while praying it wasn’t what he feared. That she hadn’t chosen to run. When Eithan approached the armory and saw Elric’s haggard face, his stomach plummeted.
She hadn’t run.
He now stood, unmoving, in her deserted room. From a glance, nothing was amiss. The bed was made and the floor clean. Not a single thing seemed out of place. Nothing would have even warranted him to worry if it weren’t for that damn dress.
He stared down at the garment clenched in his fists. It’d only been a handful of hours since he’d last seen the gown, admiring how the fabric clung and accentuated her beautiful figure.
Now, the sight of it made him sick. There was a cut in the side of the bodice, the blood below it partially dried. Whatever happened had to have occurred almost as soon as he’d left her.
But even that wasn’t what had his blood boiling. It was the back of the dress, torn almost completely in half. His jaw popped, and his stomach rolled when he considered what horrors might have taken place in that room. And where the fuck was Gibson?
Lesta came to stand next to him. He had large circles under his eyes and looked every bit his age.
“Tell me what you’re thinking, Lesta.”
“I’m thinking we should assume it was the same Magyki male as before, your highness.”
“It is certainly plausible, yes, but there are other possibilities. Tonight, the emperor informed Vera of his intention for us to wed. Oddly coincidental, is it not?”
Lesta made a choking sound but rushed to cover it with a shake of his head. He disagreed with that assessment, and regardless of what Eithan had just said, he did too. The state of her dress indicated a struggle. Not to mention the fact that Gibson was also missing.
“It still could’ve been any man who attacked her. Gibson escorted her, and I trust him with my life. My hope is that he followed whoever took her and will bring her back home safely.” The older man crossed his arms, frowning.
“Speak freely, Lesta. If you know something, it is in her best interest, and yours, that you state it.”
He seemed to be having a silent battle with himself, and the nervous twitching of his face had Eithan widening his stance. If his Weapon’s Master looked nervous, it couldn’t be good.
“Your highness, I must urge you to believe me when I say it was no Matherin who took her.”
“Explain.” Eithan’s stomach clenched with unease when Lesta’s face fell. He looked exhausted and resigned.
“I raised Vera the same way I would have raised a child of my own. I taught her to read and count, as well as how to safely care for and sharpen a blade. But that is not all I taught her.” He sighed, rubbing his hand across his head.
“Do you remember the lad you sparred? You called him a toothpick.”
The sudden change in conversation threw him, but Eithan nodded. Of course, he remembered. It’d been the best bout he’d had in months. “Varian was the lad if I recall.”
Lesta laughed, but it was hollow. “She only goes by Varian when she needs to protect herself. The individual you sparred was Vera.”
Eithan stared at him for several long, tense moments. That was preposterous. He would’ve noticed if he’d fought a woman. “No woman could have sparred like that.”
Lesta shook his head, eyes narrowed in distaste. “That’s what your father has raised you to believe, but that doesn’t make it true. Vera’s skill is exceptional, and it is not because of her sex or heritage.”
Eithan swore the floor swayed underneath him. “So, what you’re saying is I got my ass handed to me…by the same woman I plan to marry?”