“I assume you’re done with your breakfast?” Ash spoke, drawing me from my thoughts. I nodded. “Good. You and I need to talk, and I prefer to do that away from any potentially breakable items you may or may not want to throw.”
Chapter 27
Ash had taken Jadis as we stood, which was a good thing since I apparently wasn’t going to like anything he was about to say to me.
The small draken had immediately thrown herself over one of his shoulders, front and hind legs sprawled and wings lowered. I had to stop looking at her because she looked totally ridiculous and utterly adorable.
Saion was waiting for us in the hall. “Here,” Ash said to him and reached up, plucking Jadis off his shoulder. “We disturbed her morning nap, so she’s in need of another.”
The god’s forehead wrinkled as he took the limp draken. “And what am I supposed to do with her?” He held the draken the way I imagined one would hold a child that’d soiled itself.
Jadis squawked at him.
“Rock her to sleep,” Ash suggested, and I blinked. “She likes that.”
Saion stared at the Primal. “Rock her? To sleep? Seriously?”
“That’s what I do.” Ash shrugged. I was also gaping at him now. “It always works for me. If you don’t, she’ll resist falling asleep. Then she’ll get cranky, and you don’t want that. She’s been able to cough up sparks and some flames lately.”
“Great,” Saion muttered, draping the draken over one arm.
“Have fun.” Ash nodded at me to follow him, and it took me a moment to get my legs moving.
Glancing over my shoulder as we walked down the hall to our right, I saw Saion swinging his arms back and forth. “I don’t think he knows what rocking something to sleep means.”
Ash looked and laughed under his breath. “She’ll let him know soon enough.”
I dragged my gaze from what had to be one of the weirdest things I’d ever seen in my life.
“I thought this would be a good time to discuss your future here,” he said as we walked past the throne room.
“That sounds ominous.”
“Does it?”
“Yes.” I sighed. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a knack for decorating?”
“I’m a minimalist.”
That was an understatement.
I wondered what his private quarters looked like. Probably just the necessities. A nightstand. Wardrobe. Enormous bed. It felt like it went beyond minimalism, though. There were no paintings or sculptures, no banners or any other signs of life. The walls were as cold and hard as he was, so maybe that was just him.
Unnerved, I didn’t realize that Ash had stopped until I walked straight into his back. I gasped. “Sorry—”
Ash jerked, air hissing between his teeth. That sound. My gaze flew to his face. Tension bracketed his mouth—his eyes had darkened to a steel gray, and the white aura had brightened behind his pupils. Instinct urged that I take a step back because the sound he’d made reminded me of a wounded animal. Was he hurt?
I reached for him out of a different kind of instinct, like I had when I’d come upon the kiyou wolf. Immediately, I thought of the Shades. “Are you okay?”
“Don’t,” he snapped.
I froze, my hand inches from him. Heat stung my cheeks as I pulled my hand back. The sting of embarrassment went deeper, sharpening into a bitter slice of rejection. It was a silly feeling. I told myself that. I didn’t care if he suddenly had no interest in my touch. I just needed him to want it, and there was a world of difference there.
“I’m fine.” His jaw flexed as he turned his head to the side. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t be more aware of your surroundings.”
“And I would’ve expected you to be less jumpy,” I retorted. “I can already tell it was wise of you to remove me from the dining hall. And very unwise to give me back my dagger.”
He arched a brow. “Why? Should I suddenly be worried about a sharp instrument being plunged into my chest?”
“Among other things,” I muttered.
His head tilted. I saw it as it happened, then—his eyes changing. It wasn’t so much the color as it was the shadows gathering behind them. They retracted until they became the color of a thundercloud. “I have to admit, I’m interested in the among other things part of your statement.”
A shivery wave of irritation and heat rippled through me, stirring that reckless, impulsive side of me that should have everything to do with my duty but instead felt as if it had very little to do with it. I met his stare as I stepped into him, close enough that I felt the chill of his body. “Well, you have no chance of ever finding out what those things are if you jump away from contact with me.”
A tendril of eather flickered across those eyes. His lashes then lowered to half-mast. “Now, I’m very interested.”