Lina adjusted the strap that had slipped over her shoulder, a peek of black lace pulling above the sheets. Bri’s eyes dropped to it, lingering on the curve of her breasts.

“Am I wrong?” Lina asked, arching her brow as Bri’s eyes snapped back up to her own.

Her cheeks flushed and she muttered the word “no” through clenched teeth.

Lina smirked, looking rather pleased. She closed her eyes and then peeked one open at Bri. “I feel like I should light a candle or say a prayer or make a wish or something. . . . I don’t think this is going to work.”

“Me either.” Bri sighed, nestling her cheek into the pillow. “Though if any place would, it would be this bed.”

“And with a guard sworn to protect me sleeping by my side,” Lina whispered. “One with a dagger under her pillow.”

Bri waited to speak until Lina opened her eyes again. She held Lina’s midnight gaze as she whispered, “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise you that.”

“Of all the people I shouldn’t believe, it’s you.” Lina yawned, her eyes fluttering closed again. “But I do believe you, for what it’s worth, enemy or no.”

“I’m not your enemy,” Bri whispered, her eyes drifting closed.

“No.” Lina’s voice grew distant, the undertow of sleep pulling on her every word. “But neither are you my ally. You are something entirely your own, Briata Catullus. I just wish I knew what.”

Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

The week passed uneventfully, each lead becoming a dead end. Maxfeld’s runners had no useful information and neither did any of the guards’ family members. Carys and Bri continued to lobby the council for permission to go investigate the witch hunters camped in the woods, but the council shut them down every time. The only part of Bri’s days that weren’t endlessly frustrating were the evenings, when she’d fall asleep next to Lina on that lush bed, the smell of jasmine lingering in the air along with Lina’s steady breaths. Her dreams were serene. Not once did she jolt awake, nor did her hands mindlessly search the darkness for that lifeless body. It was the first time in many years where those unblinking, hollow eyes weren’t the first thing she saw when she awoke.

They fell into an easy routine, Bri appearing late in the evenings, climbing into the empty side of the bed and closing her eyes. Sometimes they’d whisper to each other, debriefing about the day, other times they’d only murmur good night. Airev hadn’t taken to the streets that whole week and Lina looked as bright and energized as Bri felt. The tightly wound strings that normally squeezed her skull had loosened, the sleep finally making her vision clear and the colors more vibrant. Everything that had once felt underwater was now full of life within her.