Lyra chuckled, but started picking at one fingernail. “I’m certain it’s…well, I’m sure it’s good to have someone from your own lands.”

I suppose.

A flush of pink washed over her cheeks. “You seem rather close. I, well, I hope you treat her well, Sentry Ashwood.”

One brow shot up and a grin followed, the first since Thane was harmed. Lyra avoided my gaze, and I took a bit of pleasure from it. With my center knuckle, I tilted her chin to me. Are you insinuating she is my lover? That curious about me?

She pulled her chin away, frowning. “I knew you’d be pompous about it. Gods. No, I’m not curious, it’s called conversation. Since I like Emi a great deal more, yet I’m stuck with you, I figured I’d better get to know you. Perhaps find out what she could possibly see in the Sentry.”

She spoke a great deal when nerves took over. My grin widened.

I took hold of her hand, spreading her palm so I could respond against her skin. She sees a cousin.

Lyra made a sort of choking sound when she drew in a sharp breath. “You’re blood?”

Why do you suppose she sent word to me when she needed help?

“Your reputation was my first guess.” This time, she didn’t pull away. “Folk in the kingdom call you Death Bringer.”

My lip curled. Because I will. Should anyone harm someone under my charge, I will kill them.

“I am under your charge.”

I didn’t respond but for a flick of my brow, a tilt of my head, and a final glimpse at the burn in her cheeks before I forced myself to pull back.

“He does not even speak out loud, yet I cannot find rest around him.”

I shot to my feet when Thane groaned and went to rub a hand against the bandages over his face.

Lyra caught his wrist. “Prince, don’t.”

He groaned again. “It itches. I’m going to go mad. One scratch and I’ll stop.”

She laughed softly. “We can find pastes to relieve it a bit.”

Blood pounded in my skull when Thane cracked his eyes and found me in the dim light. “What? Do I look as awful as you?”

Too close. I had to speak it twice, my hands were so unsteady. Guilt at nearly losing my oldest friend, guilt that it had happened at all, the whole of it burrowed in my chest, making it hard to draw a deep enough breath.

Thane sobered. “Looks like it is what you and I are fated to do, brother. Nearly die, then survive.”

“Well, you both might be fond of that,” Lyra said, tucking a fur tighter around Thane’s waist. “But I could do without it.”

“I will do as you say, Lyra Bien.” Fatigue was heady in Thane’s voice. “You frighten me more than the Sentry.”