before you were even born.” He felt closer, like if we weren’t wrapped up, I’d feel his breath on the back of my neck. “All because you were ‘born in the shroud of the gods, protected even inside the womb, veiled from birth.’”
“Yes,” I whispered, opening my eyes. “Sometimes, I wish…I wish I was…”
“What?”
Someone different. Someone other than the Maiden. Thinking it was one thing. Saying it out loud was another. I’d come close to admitting it to Vikter, but that was as close as I would let myself get with those words.
It was far past time to switch gears. “Never mind. And I don’t sleep well. That’s another reason why I was at the Pearl.”
“Nightmares?”
“Sometimes. Other times, my head doesn’t…go quiet. It replays things over and over,” I said, the shivering easing a little.
“What is your mind so loud about?” he asked.
The question caught me off guard. No one other than maybe Tawny—not even Vikter—had ever asked me that. Ian would’ve if he were still near. “Lately, it’s been the Ascension.”
“I imagine you’re excited to meet the gods.”
I snorted like a piglet. “Far from it. It actually terrifies—” I sucked in a sharp breath, shocked that I had so willingly admitted that out loud.
“It’s okay,” he said, seeming to sense my disbelief. “I don’t know much about the Ascension and the gods, but I’d be terrified to meet them.”
“You?” Disbelief compounded on top of itself. “Terrified?”
“Believe it or not, some things do scare me. The secrecy around the actual ritual of the Ascension is one of them. You were right that day when you were with the Priestess. It is so similar to what the Craven do, but what is done to stop aging—stop sickness for what has to be an eternity in the eyes of a mortal?”
My stomach shifted with unease. “It’s the gods—their Blessing. They make themselves seen during the Ascension. To even look upon them changes you,” I explained, but my words sounded uncomfortably hollow.
“They must be a sight to behold.” While I sounded empty, he sounded as dry as a whole swath of the Wastelands. “I’m surprised.”
“About?”
“You.” His chest touched my back again when he took a deep breath. “You’re just not what I expected.”
I wasn’t.
Most would look forward to meeting the gods, to possibly becoming an Ascended. Ian did, just like Tawny, and all the Ladies and Lords in Wait, but not me or my mother, and that made us different. Not in a unique way. Not in a special way. But in a way that made it…difficult to be who we were, even if our reasons were vastly different.
I shook my head. “I should be asleep. So should you.”
“The sun will be up sooner than we realize, but you’re not going to sleep anytime soon. You’re as tense as a bowstring.”
“Well, sleeping on the hard, cold ground of the Blood Forest, waiting for a Craven to attempt to rip my throat out, or a barrat to eat my face isn’t exactly soothing.”
“A Craven will not get to you. Neither will a barrat.”
“I know. I have my dagger under my bag.”
“Of course, you do.”
I smiled into the night.
“I bet I can get you relaxed enough that you sleep like you’re on a cloud, basking in the sun.”
I snorted again, rolling my eyes.
“You doubt me?”
“There is nothing anyone or anything in this world could do that would make that happen.”
“There is so much you don’t know.”
My eyes narrowed. “That may be true, but that is one thing I do know.”
“You’re wrong. And I can prove it.”
“Whatever.” I sighed.
“I can, and when I’m done, right before you drift off to sleep with a smile on your face, you’re going to tell me I’m right,” he told me.
“Doubtful,” I said, wishing that he could actually do—
The hand that had been dangling in the air was suddenly flat against my upper stomach, startling me.
My head jerked back around. “What are you doing?”
“Relaxing you,” he said, and all I could tell was that his head was dipped.
“How is this relaxing me?”
“Wait, and I’ll show you.”
I started to tell him that he didn’t need to show me anything, but then his hand began to move in slow, small circles. My mouth fell shut. Somehow, he’d gotten that hand between the folds of my blanket, through the cloak, and under the sweater to move against my thin undershirt. He moved those fingers in circles, first in small, tight ones, and then larger arcs until his fingers reached below my navel and