Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
I pause on the landing, my gaze flickering from the steps ahead to the hallway on my left.
“Please don’t tell me you’re lost,” Bodhi says, coming up the steps last.
“Of course not.” I shake my head slowly. “It’s just that I don’t have a room here, and I’m not sure where I should sleep.”
He scoffs and gestures down the hall. “You have a room. It hasn’t moved.”
“It’s his room,” I correct him quietly. “And he’s all broody.”
“We’re home, Vi. Act like it.” He grins, then turns around me, walking backward down the hallway on the right. “Sleep in your bed. He’ll just brood harder if you don’t.”
I sigh when he disappears into his room, and then turn left and head to mine—ours.
The handle won’t turn, so I flick my wrist and picture the mechanism opening, using lesser magic to unlock it.
Walking in is surreal. Magic tingles across my skin when I step through the wards. It looks just like we left it in December, except most of our things are now at Basgiath. After shutting the door, I swing my pack from my shoulders and set it on the chair Xaden waited in for all those days while I slept after being stabbed over Resson.
The bedding is the same dark blue, the curtains beside the massive windows are open to the evening light, and every book in his collection is exactly where it belongs on the built-in shelves to my right.
There are a few pitiful attempts at tempered runes on the desk, left from my last lesson, along with a forgotten notebook in the top drawer. I check the armoire and find one of my sweaters, a uniform for each of us, and the blanket his mother made him tucked up in the right-hand corner.
And gods, does it smell like him. My chest threatens to split straight open at the sudden, acute stab of pure longing. I’ve left my mark here, too. The bathing chamber still smells like the soap I use on my hair, and I find the bar right where I left it. I take a few minutes to clean up, then dress in a fresh uniform, half expecting Xaden to walk in at any second and ask me about my day.
It’s almost like this room is removed from time itself, a tiny corner of the world where we simultaneously live together yet don’t. The only indication months have passed is the glass box from Zehyllna on his nightstand, and the emerald-hilted Blade of Aretia resting within. It’s missing a single stone near the top, but looks no worse for wear after having been in Navarrian possession for six hundred years.
Someone knocks on the door, and I glance at the clock. Has it already been forty minutes?
I swing open the door and find Brennan on the other side. His eyes are tired, but his smile is bright as he gives me the standard sibling once-over.
Can’t help it—I do it, too, coming away satisfied that he’s not wearing any new scars.
“Pull me in.” He holds out his hand. “He fucked with the wards the last time he was here.”
“Of course he did.” I grab my brother’s hand and pull him through. He immediately yanks me into a hug.
I soak up the rare moment of peace until he steps back, having lost his smile some time in the last ten seconds. “Do you need anything mended?”
“No.” I shake my head.
“Are you sure? Because every time you show up here you’re an inch from death.” He studies me like I might be lying.
“I’m sure.”
“Good.” He kicks the door closed. “Sound shield only works with the door shut, right?”
“Right.” I retreat a few steps in apprehension. “What’s wrong?”
Brennan’s face falls, and he stares at the ground. “I can’t mend him.”
“I have no idea who you’re talking about.” I lift my brows in utter confusion. “We’re all healthy. No one was hurt on the way here.”
He looks up, and the sorrow in his eyes sends me staggering backward. “Xaden. I can’t mend him, Vi. I tried every day that he was here last week.”
I struggle to draw adequate breath. “You know.”
“I know.” He nods once. “He must be further along than Jack had been when Nolon started working with him. I’m so sorry.”
That unit of measurement is unfathomable. “Me too.”
“We tried silent offerings in every local temple, pushing magic back into the earth, even sitting with the eggs in the hatching grounds. We’ve tried everything either of us could think of, though the letter he sent from Lewellen yesterday had a weird—” He looks at me like I’ve grown horns. “Are you…smiling?”
“Yesterday?” I don’t even try to fight the hopeful little curve.
Brennan nods. “He wants to try mending the spot at Basgiath.”
“Good idea.” There’s nothing small about my grin now.
He might be broody, but he hasn’t given up.