Krey turned his whole body toward Nora. A chain connected to his wrist rattled. His wide eyes were even redder than Zeisha’s. “Nora,” he said in a quiet voice that was nonetheless frantic, “the best way for me to recover is gradually. Cutting me off from my fuel will make everything worse. All I need is a bite, and then tomorrow, I’ll need less. Can you help me out? Please?”
His pathetic desperation tamped down some of her anger, but it didn’t come close to convincing her. Eira had warned them all that if Krey ingested any additional brain matter, it would make his symptoms worse, not better.
She put her hands on her hips. “Not gonna happen.”
His face reddened, brows drawing together. “You’re all the same!” he shouted hoarsely. “You’re there for each other but not for me! To think I trusted you!”
A guard poked his head in the door. Nora waved him away. “Trust?” She crossed to the bed, grabbed Krey’s shoulders in a fierce grip, and got right in his face. “You’re talking to me about trust? I thought I could trust you until I found out you’ve been lying to me from the beginning! How dare you accuse me of not being trustworthy?” She shook him. “How dare you?”
His unchained hand came up and pointed in her face. “You lied to me! You told me Osmius was taking you to the palace!”
She shoved him back on the bed and threw her hands up. “Well, pardon the hell out of me, Krey! I told you one lie. You’ve lived a lie the whole time we’ve known you! So please, keep talking about how I’m not trustworthy!”
He sat up and grabbed her hand. “Please. You’ve gotta help me through this. You don’t know what it feels like.”
She pulled her hand away. “You’re right. I don’t. But I do know what it feels like for one of my only friends to betray me. So I’m happy to see you miserable, Krey! You deserve every bit of it!”
The words were only half true. Yes, his misery sent a vengeful thrill through her. It also made her heart ache. She turned away, lest Krey see empathy in her eyes.
Trying to distract herself from the pitiful sight on the bed, she knelt next to Ovrun. “I’ll stay with Krey. Zeisha is in the kitchen, waiting for you. Can you take her to breakfast and make sure she gets to the bathhouse after? She shouldn’t be alone right now.”
“Yeah.” He stood and walked across the room, beckoning Nora close. “Be careful,” he whispered. “He’s not himself. I don’t know what he’ll do.”
“Of course I’ll be careful.” She locked her gaze on Ovrun’s. “But I won’t coddle him.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “I’m sure you won’t.”
As Ovrun exited, Nora dragged a chair across the hard floor. She parked it next to Krey, sat, and folded her arms, watching him.
“Nora, please—”
“Shut up, Krey. Don’t waste your energy. I’m not getting you more fuel.”
He flipped over, back to Nora, with all the drama of a thirteen-year-old who’s angry at the world. His lean, firm shoulders rose and fell with every rapid breath.
Nora said, “Since I have you as a captive audience—literally captive, I might add—I’m going to tell you what I think of you.”
His only reply was a grunt.
Nora got comfortable, pulling her legs up and crossing them on the seat of the chair. She propped her forearms on her thighs. “You know what really pisses me off, Krey? It’s not that you ate brains when you were eight. You’re not expected to make wise choices when you’re that age. I’m not even mad that you’re an addict. We’ve all got our struggles, right?”
No response.
“What really pisses me off—” Nora didn’t mean to stop talking, but a tight knot of emotion invaded her throat, cutting off her words. What the hell? I’m not here to cry, I’m here to give him a piece of my mind!
She swallowed and barreled on. “What really pisses me off—”A sob leapt from her chest, filling the space between her and Krey. With a groan, she gave in to her weeping. “It pisses me off that you’re my friend—a real friend!” Her sobs came harder. “And you . . . you didn’t trust me! Did you . . . did you think I wouldn’t . . . wouldn’t be there for you? I would’ve . . . damn it, I wanted to . . . to support you, Krey! You could’ve . . . you could’ve told me! I care about you . . . and I’m so . . . so tired . . . of being betrayed!”
She was crying too hard to keep talking. Maybe that was a good thing. She’d meant to scream at him, giving him a guilt trip so fierce, it would tear a hole through his chest. She’d meant to tell him how terrible he was, not how hurt she was. She certainly hadn’t meant to call him a friend, at least not in the present tense. And how could she have said she cared about him?
As her crying subsided, she saw that Krey had curled into a ball, his face pressed into his pillow. She knelt on the floor and, with a resigned sigh, rested a hand on his shoulder.
He grasped her hand. After a few minutes, he moaned, “Please. Just a little.”
“No.” Her voice was hard, but she didn’t move her hand.
When Ovrun returned, he found both Krey and Nora sleeping. Krey was on his side in bed, knees pulled in tight, his back to the room. A chair sat next to the bed, but Nora was sitting on the floor, head resting on the mattress. Her hand was on Krey’s shoulder, covered by his shackled hand.
Ovrun tried to sit silently, but the chair squeaked when his bulk hit the seat.
Nora’s head lifted. She pulled her hand from Krey’s and rubbed her eyes. “Hey,” she whispered.
Ovrun stood and gestured to the chair. Nora got up, but she didn’t sit. She took his hand and led him to a corner of the room, smiling as she pulled him down to sit on the floor. He wedged himself in the corner and draped his arm over her shoulder, drawing her into his side.
Nora let out a long breath and snuggled closer. “How’s Zeisha?” she whispered.
“She’s tired,” he murmured. “I dropped her off at the bathhouse, and she said she’d take a nap afterward.”
“Good.” Nora yawned. “I guess we’re all tired.”
“How’s Krey?”
Ovrun felt Nora shake her head. “He’s desperate for more fuel. When he realized I wouldn’t give it to him, he went to sleep.”
“Did you lecture him first?”
“I tried. Ended up crying and making a fool of myself instead.” Nora pulled away, sitting up straight and meeting Ovrun’s gaze. “He betrayed us.”
Ovrun lifted his eyebrows.
“Part of me wants to write him off completely,” Nora said, “but I can’t bring myself to.”
Ovrun ran his thumbs along the swollen skin under her eyes. Her full lips curved up at his touch, and he dropped a soft kiss on them before taking her hands and saying, “He hid the truth from us, but I wouldn’t call it a betrayal. He went to the palace for you.”
Her forehead furrowed, and for a second, he could picture what her worry and laugh lines would look like when she got older. She’d be just as lovely as she was now. “What do you mean, for me?” she asked.
“When you were comforting Zeisha, he talked to me. He was trying to get me to bring him fuel, and I guess he wanted to justify what he did. He said you need to be able to lead the country, and it wouldn’t be safe for you to confront your dad alone. He knew what he did was dangerous, but he wanted to protect you.”
She blinked several times. Her tongue ran across her lips, and he cursed his body as it responded. Now’s not the time for that.
At last, she said, “He wouldn’t risk himself for me.”
“Why not?”
“Because—because that’s something you’d do for someone you care about. Our whole friendship has been a lie. He doesn’t care about me.”
“Nora . . . you lied to him too. You . . . you lied to all of us. Osmius was never gonna take you to the palace.”
Her head dropped. She pulled her hands away. “I shouldn’t have done that. I was just desperate, and I—didn’t think it through. I—”
“I know,” he inte
rrupted. When her chin came up and she met his gaze, he said, “We all do stupid things when we’re desperate.”
“But he hid the truth from us for months! You’re telling me he was desperate for months on end?”
“Sure! Desperate for something. Acceptance or safety or . . . something.”
Her eyes darted off to the side, but not before he saw her thoughts churning in them. She nodded. “Maybe you’re right. But I’m still mad.”
Ovrun looked over at Krey, who appeared smaller than usual, curled up as he was. They didn’t have time for this. They had a battle to prepare for, and now one of their fiercest fighters was detoxing. He’d also been touched by the king, which would limit his role if Ulmin came to Deroga. Ovrun released a deep sigh. “I’m mad too.”
“You know what?” Nora whispered. “I’m sick of all this. I’m sick of thinking. I’m sick of planning.” She locked her gaze with Ovrun’s. After several seconds, her furrowed brow smoothed out, and her lips drew into a sly smile. She glanced at Krey, then climbed into Ovrun’s lap and whispered in his ear, “It’s enough to make me want to run off with you and live in the country like you talk about. Just me and you.”
Ovrun took her shoulders in his hands and locked his gaze with hers. He tried to keep the hope out of his voice. “Is that really what you want?”
Still smiling, she bit her lip and released it. “You know my responsibilities, Ovrun.” She brought her lips back to his ear. “But it’s fun to pretend things are different, isn’t it?”
Her flirtation didn’t have its intended effect. That was his dream she was talking about, and she was throwing it out there like it might actually happen. His breaths came faster, not because he wanted her, but because he was, for the first time ever, angry at her. “Nora—” he said, his voice a low growl.
“Hmm?” She rested her forehead against his. Her hands reached for him. He caught them in his own before she could slip them over his shoulders.
She pulled her head away from his, her eyes sparkling with flirtation. “Krey was really tired,” she said softly. “He’s not gonna wake up.”
“That’s not why I stopped you.”
His anger must’ve been obvious, because Nora yanked her hands away. She crawled off his lap and sat in front of him, knees pressed to his. “What’s wrong?” Her low voice held more than a hint of challenge.
“Is this a game to you?” he demanded.
“Is what a game?”
“This.” His hand pointed back and forth roughly between them. “You crawling into my lap and saying we might actually have a future, then reminding me it’s all pretend. Is that fun for you?”
Nora blinked hard, then leaned forward, spitting vehement, hushed words at him. “No, it’s not a game, Ovrun. I was just trying to enjoy our time together. Like we agreed on, remember?” Her arms spread wide. “We’re in this stupid city, far from home, eating food we’re not used to and using dirty bathhouses and outhouses. And sorry, but I wanted to enjoy one of the few good things I’ve got here. I just wanted to flirt with my boyfriend. Is that so bad?”
“Is that what I am? Your boyfriend?”
“Yeah.” Nora’s voice had lost its edge. She swallowed hard. “If . . . you want to be.”
He grasped her shoulders. Hushed words scraped his throat as they emerged. “You know I want to be your boyfriend! That’s not the problem! The problem is, I want more! I want you to be part of my future! We both know you can’t, so why do you tease me by saying it’s what you want too? Do you have any idea what that does to me, Nora? Any idea at all?”
Under his hands, her shoulders lost their tension, collapsing. Her head dropped. They sat for several seconds before she met his gaze again. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I was just trying to have a little fun.”
Ovrun had a sudden urge to shake her until her teeth clacked together. Horrified by the thought, he let go of her shoulders and pressed his back against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. Every muscle in his arms remained taut. By the stone, what was wrong with him? This was the girl he . . . the girl he . . . the girl I what? Like? Want? Something more? And if it’s that, how the hell did I let myself reach that point?
He spoke in a strained voice that held no hint of lightness. “Of course it’s been fun. But there’s a problem. The more time we spend together, the more I want from you. I . . .” Arms still crossed, he leaned forward, struggling to push words through the tightness in his gut, his chest, his throat. “I don’t know if we should do this anymore, Nora. You mean too much to me. This is way more than fun for me, and you don’t get that.”
“What?” Nora’s voice was shrill and explosive. She swiveled her head to look at Krey, who didn’t even flinch. Nora locked eyes with Ovrun again, her chest rising and falling like she’d been running. “This is way more than fun for me too, and I am”—her breath came out in a frustrated, suppressed grunt of anger—“you have no idea how much it pisses me off for you to sit up there on a pedestal, like the high king of . . . of . . . righteous passion! Like you’re the only one who feels deeply about this. Damn it, Ovrun, I want this to work too!”
He pressed his lips together, eyes still drilling into hers, daring her to convince him.
“You want the truth?” Nora continued in her whisper-scream. “I do want to run off and live on a farm with you and make gorgeous babies and forget about the palace! And I also want to go back to that same palace and rule the kingdom the way it’s meant to be ruled! I hate wanting both of those things. I said it was fun to pretend, because I know full well that my future was set before I was born. I don’t know if there’s any way to change it. I don’t even know if I want to. I don’t know much of anything, except I honestly care about you! I’m willing to stay with you if there’s just a little chance of it working out. And I sure as hell think we should enjoy ourselves along the way! Is that really such a bad thing?”
Nora’s fury had an odd effect on Ovrun. It calmed him, mesmerized him—her flushed skin, passionate words, rapid breaths. She’d never be the type to give in and smooth things over, whether they were in their twenties or their seventies. He loved that about her.
And then he realized that despite him threatening to end things, despite her admission that she probably couldn’t join in his dreams, he was still imagining a future—a full, lifelong future—with her.
Nora wanted to continue holding on to some slim hope that they could make this work. Could he do the same?
“Ovrun?” Her voice was suddenly soft. She never stayed mad for long. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Is there any hope of you . . . becoming someone you never thought you’d be?”
He knew what she was asking. He’d told her plenty of times that he couldn’t be king. But with her by his side . . . “Maybe,” he murmured, even as he wondered if it was true.
Her full lips widened in an indescribably gorgeous smile. A moment later, her hands slipped inside his open jacket, wandering over his shirt, tracing his muscles.
“Nora,” he breathed. His flare of anger was rapidly turning into a blaze of desire. Logic warred with his baser instincts. We need to talk more. A lot more. We didn’t resolve anything—
Her lips found his. He responded, pulling her closer with one hand and digging the other hand into her hair. He forgot what he needed to say. His lips had more urgent needs. Nora answered with a hunger that threatened to devour them both.
Across the room, a groan rose from the bed. Ovrun and Nora both froze, then pulled away from each other. In unison, they muttered, “Damn it.”
Krey was still facing away from them. He might be sleeping . . . but he might not. Nora scooted back against the wall, her eyes on the bed, her breaths coming fast. Ovrun watched her as he tried to steady his own breathing.
Her eyes fixed on Krey, Nora whispered, “Will he be okay?” After a pause, she said, “Will Cellerin be okay? Will we be okay?” She shook her head hard, blinking rapidly.
For a long moment, Ovrun squeezed his eyes and his lips shut. He doubted he could fit into Nora’s life in the long term. But he could fill the role she needed now. He slipped an arm around her and pulled her close again. With his free hand, he nudged her chin until she was looking in his eyes.
Thumb caressing the thin, pale scar on her cheek, he said, “Whatever you need from me, I’m here.”
Her lips parted. All her breath left her body in a deep sigh that seemed to take all the tension out of her. He pulled her even closer.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Krey groaned again. This time, he turned to face them. “Please,” he moaned. “Just one bite.”
Ovrun and Nora walked to the bed, hand-in-hand, to tell him no.
The Seer: 6
Sarza shivered as she stood at the window of the ancient office building she’d lived in for over a month now. She’d been waiting for this night: the new moon. Clouds were rolling in too. Perfect. The darker it is, the better.
The dark night would protect her. It would also make it hard to navigate. That means I need to get going.
Using a single candle for light, Sarza descended the stairs on quick feet, wishing yet again that she’d gotten a vision to guide her tonight. Her mind stayed stubbornly in the moment, as it had been doing for over a week. Guess I’ll just have to use my wits.
The trek down the stairs was a long one, but she’d gotten used to it. She went out a couple of nights every week to steal supplies and to let the breeze wash away the dank, old smell that seemed to coat her after too much time inside. The breeze wasn’t the most effective shower, so she took cold dips in the nearby river when she felt especially gross.
Hopefully last night’s bath and supply raid had been her final one. Hours from now, she’d report Princess Nora’s location to her contact. With any luck, he’d insist Sarza return to the army, where accolades would be waiting. She tried not to think too much of the alternative: that he’d send her back to this stinking, creepy city to keep spying.
The Vine Eater (The Magic Eaters Trilogy Book 2) Page 19