Page 69 of Tarnished Crown

Oh, no.

My hand froze, and I finally managed to pry my eyelids apart, confirming what I had already begun to suspect. It was well into the night, but the roaring fire in the hearth gave more than enough light to see by.

Enough to see that my face was crushed against a broad, tan chest, my fingers resting on the cords of a solidly muscled bicep.

Hazy memories came to me. My raging fever. Slipping in and out of consciousness. And Evander, one hand on my head and the other on my lower back, holding me firmly against him until my spasms and my shivers died down.

I lifted my gaze to see a strong jaw covered in a couple days’ worth of stubble, but that didn’t seem right. Evander was always clean-shaven.

There was no mistaking him, though. His dark lashes were spread against his cheek, his hand tucked beneath his head while his chest rose and fell in even motions.

I was fully on top of him, my stomach pressed against his, my feet tucked between his ankles.

It could be worse.He could be awake right now to witness my humiliation.

Although, that would hardly be new for either of us, if my foggy recollection of my fever was accurate.

I shifted, and my back groaned in protest. The motion tugged at my clothes, and I glanced down to see that I was wearing...very little. A thin cream-colored shirt that was several sizes too big, the black laces loose and untied. They were closer to framing what was there than they were covering it at this point.

Perfect.Heat flooded my cheeks.

Determined to move myself before he woke up, I braced my hand against the bed and wrestled my other one from where it was tucked behind Evander’s back, gritting my teeth and ignoring the burning from my wounds.

I was so focused on accomplishing what should have been a pretty insignificant goal that I didn’t notice the pattern of Evander’s breathing change until two strong hands came on either side of my waist.

Carefully avoiding the lashes on my back, he eased out from under me, twisting me until I was propped up next to him.

There was a momentary flash of agony when my back came into contact with the pillow, soft as it was. I hissed a breath through my teeth, but the pain subsided once I adjusted. It was unexpectedly tiring, all of it, and my head fell back against the cushion while I surveyed Evander.

He put a hand on the back of his neck, looking as close to uncomfortable as I ever thought I would see him.

“The healer said you needed warmth, but with your back...” His voice was gravelly with sleep.

“Of course, I...” My voice came out a croak, and I trailed off, not really sure how to finish that sentence.

What did you really say in a moment like this?

His eyes were bloodshot, deep purple bags under them making me wonder if this was the only time he had slept in--

“How long was I out?”

“On and off for three days.”

Three days?Had he stayed in the bed all that time while I slept wholly on top of him? I struggled to reconcile this man with the one who had expected praise for not having killed me yet.

“And you were here that entire time?” I verified.

He nodded, features carefully blank. “Your fever was spiking, and nothing could bring it back down. So it was me or an untimely death.”

Did I imagine the defensive note to his tone?

I opened my mouth to tell him a fever probably wouldn’t have done me in, but closed it when I remembered that was how his mother had died. It certainly wasn’t impossible, even if my fae blood did make me a bit more resilient.

This was at least the third time he had stepped in to save my life when, by his own admission, he wasn’t averse to killing when necessary.

Why, then?

I answered my own question aloud.