11

Damien blinked as the faintest light of morning trickled in through the large windows to his right. He felt tired, but the heated headache and nightmares were gone.

What the—

There was a lump on the bed beside him, pinning him beneath the covers.

He turned his head, a frown on his face. It was a body. In a . . . nightdress?

His mind sped up as he fought the urge to throw back the covers and leap from the bed. Who in land’s end would be in his bed?

The figure shivered, then rolled over on top of the coverlet, her black hair long and tangled around the pillow on which she lay.

Selene?

He carefully pulled back the covers, then lifted himself up on his elbow. Even with her head facing the other direction, there was no mistaking that hair, so black that there was a blue sheen to it.

What was she doing here? In his room? On his bed?

She shivered again.

He rubbed his brow, then reached over and lifted his covers and draped them across her body. She didn’t wake up.

Slowly, so as not to jostle the mattress, Damien sat up and turned toward his side of the bed. A blast of pain shot through his thigh, and he bit back a gasp as he reached over and grabbed one of the bedposts. Now he remembered. He had been shot during the attack, then somehow Taegis had gotten him to Nor Esen and to Healer Sildaern. He looked down and found his leg bandaged up. The pain was more achy than anything else, which meant the arrowhead was gone, and his leg was on the mend. But ouch!

He was fingering the bandage when he heard Selene stirring behind him. All he had on was a tunic and undergarments. He stood and limped over to the changing screens as fast as he could and reached for a pair of pants. Whatever the reason Selene had come into his room, he doubted she was ready to see him in this state of undress. His lips quirked at the thought, but then he pushed it back down.

Pulling on the pants sent another gasp through his lips, but he got them on and secured a belt around his waist, then pulled a sleeveless jacket over his tunic. He had a lot to do now that he was back at Northwind Castle—writing letters to the other Great Houses, collecting what information he could about what happened back at Rook Castle, and starting afresh with the alliance.

He brought a hand to his forehead. Not for the first time he wished his father were still alive. He felt so alone in leading his people and influencing the other Great Houses.

You’re not alone.

The dream from last night came back to him, the day he lost Quinn. He had told his brother he was not alone, but sometimes he himself forgot that. The Light was with Quinn and his parents. And it was with him now as well.