tub in the corner, though the water was probably cold. I desperately wanted to bathe and then I would eat.
Vienne eyed me as I approached her. She nibbled on her bottom lip and a flash of heat raced down my spine. I’d bitten at that bottom lip myself.
“I…I was worried about you,” she admitted softly, darting her gaze down to the food tray. “You were asleep for so long but your pujerak told me it was normal.”
I grunted. So she’d spoken with Hedna?
I stopped in front of her. Reaching out my hand, I grasped her chin, forcing her to meet my eyes. Her grey gaze was wide, knowing. Much had transpired between us before I’d gone to sleep. Much that we hadn’t discussed.
“You were worried for me?” I rasped.
She blinked. “Yes.”
She wouldn’t be worried for me unless she’d begun to care for me. Had she begun to trust me too?
I didn’t dwell on how that realization made me feel.
The pads of my fingertips trailed to her cheek, to the smudge there. I wiped at it. It was boiled kuveri mash. She and Lokkaru had been making more candles, evidently.
“Did Lokkaru say anything about the heartstone?” I asked next.
Disappointment spread across her features and I felt relief. Her lips pressed together and she shook her head, stepping away from my touch and kneeling by the low table. She began to organize the food in a manner which made me frown. She cleared away the half-eaten food—her meals—piling it onto the tray and replacing it with the fresh dishes, from Arinu, no doubt. Her motions were efficient and quick.
“Leave it, leikavi,” I told her when she rose with the dirtied tray.
“I’ll just go take this back,” she said quietly, her eyes still cast towards the tray. A slave’s gaze. “I will leave you to eat.”
I wondered if serving food to the Ghertun sibi—what they called their household, I’d learned—that owned her was one of her responsibilities under the Dead Mountain. The thought made hot anger rise. Not at her, however.
I snagged her wrist and she gasped when the tray crashed to the floor of the tent, spewing the leftover food over the rugs and breaking the dishes it had come in.
“I said leave it,” I rasped. “I will return it later.”
Her eyes darted to the floor between us. She had the instincts of a slave but why had they returned now? Because she was uncomfortable? Because I’d hurt her with my cruel words three nights ago? Because she’d witnessed me speaking with the shadows? Or because I’d been too rough with her during our first fucking?
You’re hurting me, she’d told me. Her voice had been quiet, patient, yet firm.
Just remembering those words made self-hatred burn down my chest.
It was likely all of those reasons made her wary of me now that I was awake.
Just three nights ago, she’d grinned as she found her pleasure riding my cock. Now, she could barely meet my eyes. Before, it had been relief in her gaze to see me awake but now she seemed nervous.
And I…didn’t want that.
You know better, was what my sister had always said.
So, though I’d never asked for it in my entire life, I murmured, “Forgive me.”
Vienne’s breath hitched, her gaze connecting with mine in surprise.
“Hanniva, leikavi,” I murmured, brushing my fingers over cheek again.
Please.
I knew she knew that word.
My voice was gruff. I was unused to issuing apologies, had only ever done so to my sister and mother. A Vorakkar never apologized.
“I did not mean to hurt you,” I told her, my jaw clenched and tight. “And then I did not mean to lash out at you afterwards. I did not mean for you to see…”
I trailed off, my gaze lifting briefly, tracking to the shadowed space in my voliki. My chest gave a dull pang and I swallowed, remembering the black blood blooming across my sister’s abdomen.
When I looked back at her, her eyes were there as well, as if she too had seen what I’d seen. But I knew it was impossible. My mind had become so warped that sometimes, it was difficult to know what was real. When I went to battle, when I lost too much sleep, when I dwelled too much on my past life…those occurrences—as Hedna liked to call them—grew more and more frequent.
One day, I feared I would lose myself entirely to them. I feared I would lose myself to those shadows, that I would join them there and never return.