The Glass Queen (The Forest of Good and Evil #2) - Gena Showalter Page 0,132

will gain control again and—

“Sleep.”

Yes. Mmm. I would sleep...

* * *

Awareness returned gradually. I thought I might be lying on a bed of clouds, Saxon nearby. His husky voice cooed sweet everythings. His incredible scent drugged me. His delicious heat provided a cocoon of tranquility, and the softness of his wings caressed my skin. Part of me clamored to awaken all the way and find out if he was real or imagined. The rest of me demanded I remain in this paradise.

I felt no pain or turmoil. Leonora slept deep inside me, her power recharging. For the first time in what seemed forever, I couldn’t feel the taint of her emotions. There was no Raven or Tempest laughing as I choked on a mouthful of my own blood. Think I’ll stay here forever.

A calloused fingertip glided between my eyes, down the bridge of my nose, then around my eyes. “Come back to me, Asha. What my family did to you... I’m so sorry. They will pay. They will pay hard. Restitution shall be yours. Our dragons have gotten so big. They are the size of horses now. But they still miss their mother.” Saxon’s deep, smoky voice stroked my ears, and his warm, minty breath fanned my throat as he jumped from one topic to another. “Also, I have a surprise for you. One I know you’ll love.”

A gift? For me?

“You’re safe with me,” he said, “but no one else is.” The words escaped on a growl. “I’m willing to do bad, bad things for another of your kisses, Asha. Be a darling and wake for me, before I’m the one who torches all of Enchantia just to lay the ashes at your feet. Yes. I like this idea. Know that I’m closer to doing it every minute you fail to tell me you are well.”

Okay, I must be imagining him. Real-life Saxon didn’t act as if he couldn’t live without me.

“I need you to design and craft more weapons for me. I want an entire suit of armor, too. The final battle of the tournament nears. I should have all the protection I can get, shouldn’t I?”

So he could win Dior’s hand in marriage? No. But I did want him to survive.

Great. Now I could only think about how he would soon face the last—and the strongest—competitors. He might be a savage warlord who’d lived and warred before, but he wasn’t infallible. He truly would need every advantage he could get. And my designs were extraordinary. Plus, for the right price, Ophelia could make everything Saxon wanted and more.

Wait. Didn’t I have a secret to tell him, to save him from the next incarnation Leonora possessed, if something were to happen to me?

Well. I couldn’t stay away now. I would do it. I would fight to rejoin the land of the living.

I kicked and paddled through a watery darkness, feeling as if I breached the ocean’s surface, only to be met with a crushing wave. Still I kicked, still I paddled and...yes. I gasped, my eyelids popping open. Bright sunlight made my eyes water, and I blinked rapidly.

As my hazy vision cleared, my heart threatened to pound its way out of my chest. Saxon. He hovered over me, his face suddenly all I could see—all I wanted to see. He wore an expression of concern and hope. Lines of tension branched from his bloodshot eyes and bracketed his mouth. A day’s worth of scruff decorated his jaw.

“You’re alive,” he croaked, searching my face. “Are you in pain?”

I wiggled my fingers and toes, rocked my hips, rolled my shoulders. “No,” I breathed with wonder, my voice a hoarse rasp. No permanent damage had been done.

He sagged over me and rolled to his back, taking me with him. With one hand on my nape and the other cupping my bottom, he kept me splayed over his body.

“How long have I been sleeping?”

“Seven days.”

What!

“The magic needed time to work.”

I began to orient, my surroundings crystalizing. We were in the stable, inside a stall, no, inside two stalls that had been joined together to create a bigger space. We rested on a pallet of furs. The dragons slept at our feet—and they were indeed the size of horses. Sweet goodness.

“But the tournament,” I said.

“Finalist will be announced tomorrow. Then we’ll have six more days of competition before the final battle.”

Seven days wasted. Seven days left. I didn’t... I couldn’t... I frowned. Cool air was kissing a very private area, and I realized I