his arrowheads, their polished finish reflecting the sun’s rays. He met Tobias’s tired gaze and chuckled. “Good afternoon.”
“Afternoon?” Tobias yawned. “How long have I been asleep?”
“A long time, clearly.”
Tobias sat up, shaking the hair from his eyes. “Good God…”
“Don’t be hard on yourself. You were quite the busy man yesterday, were you not?”
Tobias shot Orion a skeptical glance.
“You know,” Orion said. “Your painting.”
Tobias’s gaze darted toward his canvas, which was now covered in streaks of white and pink. “Oh. Right.”
The topic died, much to Tobias’s relief. After tidying his arrows, Orion sprang from his bed, pulling his shirt on and flipping his long hair into place.
“Where are you headed off to?” Tobias asked.
“Reward,” Orion said flatly. “Shirts are to spend the day with Cosima. Skins stay behind.”
“Right, I’d forgotten.”
“Better than another challenge, yes?” Orion waved his wrist dismissively. “I’m sure you’ll find ways to occupy your time.”
Leila. “Enjoy yourself.”
“Oh, absolutely. A day with Kaleo? What could possibly go wrong?”
“At least there’s Flynn.” Tobias paused, rethinking his words. “And The Savior, of course.”
Orion smiled. “Of course.” He headed for the door, then stopped short, eyeing Tobias over. “One last thing.” Sauntering to Tobias’s side, he plucked a blade of grass from his unruly hair. “Hate it when that happens.”
He flicked the blade away before disappearing from their chamber.
The room was still, the day at Tobias’s disposal. I can see Leila, but he hadn’t a clue where to find her. I can paint, but the thought of it was tedious. His imagination swirled with images—with Leila’s legs around his waist, her moaning in his ear—and suddenly he was hot all over and awake in places that demanded his attention. He glanced across his empty chamber, then down at the hard lump in his lap.
Or I can do that.
Minutes of filthy thoughts and furious tugging passed, and he was relaxed, relieved, and unoccupied—again. Painting had instantly become appealing, but after hours of dotting his canvas and filling in meticulous details, he was restless yet again. With little else to do, he strolled the palace corridors, losing himself in its enormity.
The ceiling shifted from ornate arches to colorful stained glass; he had reached the entryway, his only way out of that damn palace, if that was even an option. The large, golden doors were wide open, and he moseyed out into the sunlight, taking a seat along the steps. He gazed over the courtyard, pretending the heat on his back and the fresh air were his freedom, but all such musings died once footsteps echoed behind him.
Raphael had joined him.
“Tobias.”
He nodded. “Raphael.”
Raphael took a seat at his side, resting his arms on his knees. “I suppose it’s just the two of us. Since the rest of our team is—”
“Dead?”
Tension hung in the air like a blanket over his burning shoulders.
“Have you and I ever had a proper conversation?” Raphael said.
“Just back in the woods, if you call that proper.”
“Right.”
“There was also the time you thanked me for saving your life and then sent me on my way.”
Raphael cleared his throat. “Perhaps I should apologize—”
“Don’t. You were honest. I appreciate it.”
“Still, I could’ve made more of an effort. At least spoken to you on occasion.”
“It seems you hardly speak to anyone. Except to goad Flynn.”
Raphael sighed. “Well, I think we both know we’re long overdue for a very specific discussion.”
A stretch of silence wedged between them. Tobias held firm, maintaining an air of control, but Raphael squirmed in his seat, his discomfort not so easily hidden.
“About what was said in the woods…”
“It stays between us.” Tobias looked him hard in the eye.
“I haven’t told a soul.”
“Neither have I. And I have no plans to change that.”
Raphael glanced from side to side, lowering his voice. “I’m not looking to share the same fate as Garrick. And I don’t think you’re the type to go running to the Sovereign, but you can never be too sure about anyone—”
“I’m not the type. Are you?”
“No.”
“Then it’s settled.” Tobias’s words came out stern. “We don’t talk.”
Raphael nodded, but the tension refused to lift. Perhaps it would vanish as soon as Raphael took leave, but he remained at Tobias’s side, staring at him.
“Is there anything else?” Tobias muttered.
“Cosima...” Raphael leaned in closer. “She’s a fucking nightmare.”
Tobias burst out laughing, thrown by the change in tone.
“I’m serious. I’d sooner bury my face between Wembleton’s tits than Hers.”
“You really hate Her,” Tobias said.
“You do realize She nearly let me bleed to death.” Raphael scowled. “Not that I was impressed with Her beforehand. She’s