know you don’t want to hear this, but you need to tell someone what happened.”
She sighed. “Tobias—”
“Something has to be done. Drake needs to be removed from the palace—”
“Just stop.”
“I’m begging you, you have to tell Cosima—”
“Cosima is nothing,” she spat. “She is useless.”
Tobias faltered. “And Brontes… He isn’t an option?”
“God, I don’t even want to hear his name. Please, don’t ever speak it again.”
A stab pierced through him. Leila’s body was clenched, consumed with an anger he knew all too well.
“Do you think he had something to do with this?” he asked.
She spoke through gritted teeth. “I know he did.”
Visible tremors rolled through her body, though it wasn’t fear that moved her—it was rage.
“I am so sick of feeling powerless. Of having no control.” She pressed a white-knuckled fist into the couch, fighting to keep herself contained. “This is my home. I should feel free. I should feel safe.” Her breathing wavered, compromised by tears. “This is my fucking home, and yet I am a prisoner.”
Tobias grabbed her arms and dropped a soft kiss in the curve of her neck. “Leila darling, breathe.” Her tears tore holes through his body, but he held firm, his strength hers to borrow. “Come to me. Let me hold you.”
She didn’t resist, turning toward him and curling into a ball against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, dragging his fingers through her hair. “Right now, you are free. Right now, you are safe.”
The woman coiled between his legs wasn’t the one he knew; this woman was foreign, fragile. She trembled in his embrace, and his mind spun in a panic, taking him back to the fight, to the blood—to all of the pieces that didn’t fit.
Leila gripped the front of his shirt. “I’ve made so many mistakes. Everything I’ve worked for…it’s crumbling around me. And all I can do is watch.”
“Whatever your troubles, know they’re not yours alone. Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.” He combed his fingers through her hair. “If you need me to pick up the pieces. If you need me to stand by your side as you watch it all crumble. Whatever it is, I’ll do it. I’m your man.”
“I don’t deserve your kindness.”
“Leila, that is the single dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”
Silence. He could still make out her wavered breathing, her soft tears, but her body had gone still, calm. It was something, but it wasn’t enough.
“You are everything. You remember?” He kept his arms tight around her as if they were her shield. “For as long as I’m living, I’ll take care of you. Even in the next life, I’ll find a way. I’ll take care of you always.”
Make her well. The words repeated in his mind, forcing out all questions, all self-serving qualms, as holding her in his arms became a duty of the highest esteem.
“I haven’t a clue what I’m going to do now.”
Her voice was the slightest bit steadier, filling his lungs like air.
“Then do nothing at all. Just stay here with me.”
He made himself comfortable, as he wasn’t leaving that spot—not until Leila was whole again.
Tobias wiped his hand down his stomach, leaving colorful streaks across his skin. He didn’t care about the mess; he was finishing this painting today by any means necessary. He hadn’t left his bed, hadn’t so much as opened his curtains, as all that mattered were the patches of white, the flecks of yellow, and the mad dabbing of his brush against the canvas.
The door swung open, and Delphi leaned against the frame. “Knock knock.”
He flagged her in. “Another visit so soon?”
“I just thought I’d check on you.”
“Does this have something to do with me abandoning Cosima?”
“Actually, it has something to do with you saving my sister.” Her gaze softened. “Thank you, love. She’s the last of my true family. I don’t know what I’d do if she were gone.”
“Is she well?”
“Because of you.”
A quiet settled through the space. Delphi scanned the dim chamber, then his messy appearance. “You’re painting, I see.” She craned her neck, catching a glimpse of his canvas, and smiled. “I’ll leave you to it. Paint the day away.”
“You’re sure? You only just got here.”
“Oh, absolutely. I’d hate to be a bother.” She winked. “Back to work then.”
Without another word, she darted from the room, leaving him with his art.
As Tobias pressed his brush to his canvas, a knock sounded at the door. He dropped his brush and sighed. “Come in.”