His eyes fluttered open. Hooded and drowsy but open.
A rush of excitement ran through me. I moved a little closer to his head.
“Hey,” I whispered, tears stinging the backs of my eyes. “How are you feeling?”
He opened his hand closest to me and moved it a little in my direction. I took it, stroking the back with my thumb.
“Will a pain reducer mess with the everlass?” I asked, putting my other hand on his head now and gently stroking his forehead. “I might be able to figure some stuff out, but the rest is trial and error. I’d rather not try with you right now and mess up.”
“Please.” His voice was barely more than a whisper. Scratchier than normal.
“Water, right? Do you need water?” I moved to get up, but his hand held me firm, still incredibly strong.
“Stay with me,” he rasped.
I cupped his hand. “Of course I will. I’m watching you to see if you need more of the draught. We’ll get you out of this, okay? You will live to fight another day.”
“Please. Keep talking. It helps me know that…I am still part of this world. The other side is sucking at me. I long to give in. But for you, I would have already. The last sixteen years…have been misery. Each day has been worse than the last. I am so tired, Finley. I am so tired of this nightmare.”
Fear pierced my heart. I squeezed his hand between mine.
“More everlass, then? Do you need more now? I know you promised your mother not to voice the family secret, and we will absolutely fight about that when you are well, but you need to help me help you right now, okay? She wouldn’t want you to die so young. I know you think you’re responsible for her death, but Sable said something, and I’ve been thinking about it. Your mother loved you. She would’ve wanted you to be happy. She missed her home”—I was assuming that part from the things he’d said—“and she wouldn’t begrudge you for leaving. She ended up in a loveless marriage with a mad husband and wasn’t even allowed to speak her ancestral language. Why the hell would she want that for you? I mean, look at me. I am not like the other women in this village. I’m wild, and I hunt, and I take risks, and I come home a bloody mess. I don’t care about pretty dresses with ruffles or whether the town hunk wants to marry me…”
His hand squeezed mine, and his body tensed. I blew out a slow breath, checking over those lines on his back again. They were still receding. Maybe there were just a few jolts of pain as they did so.
I kept talking.
“I’ve been this way since I was a kid. People used to tell my mom that she shouldn’t allow me to hang out with Hannon so much. That I was a bad influence on him because he’s gentle and kind and lovely. But she could be as stubborn as a rock. She ruled this house. She would not allow anyone to cow me. She let me wear whatever I wanted. She let me do as I pleased, so long as I was respectful. She trusted me to make the right choices. That’s what mothers do—they guide. They strengthen. They support, and they never stop loving their children. Never. I doubt a rosebush would begrudge her son his wild spirit.”
Tears filled my eyes. “I miss her so much,” I confessed, leaning forward and laying my cheek against the pillow by his head. “I couldn’t save her. The recipe for the nulling elixir wasn’t as good back then. I ran out of time. But you know what? I have to remember that it ultimately wasn’t my fault. The curse and the sickness killed her. I couldn’t beat it at that time, but I will beat it in time for Father. I will. I will not lose another.”
I stroked his cheek, my other hand still around his.
“You know, they were right about Hannon being nicer than me. My mom always argued I’d be a lost cause without him. He hates hunting and fishing and drinking pints in the pub with the lads. He thinks they are all thickheaded apes. He’s right, obviously. He’d actually like the whole hobby situation at the castle. He could probably make a really pretty watercolor. He’s super good at sewing and needlepoint. And you’ve seen how he can nurse people. He and I are as opposite as opposites could be. It’s why we make an excellent team. I’m good at all the things he hates, and he’s good at all the things I hate.”
“He needs a strong mate,” Nyfain rasped.
I startled. Then blushed in embarrassment. He’d said to keep talking, true, but I hadn’t realized he’d sift through each word.