That sounded like something he’d say. “I don’t get myself in trouble.”
Nektas raised a brow. “Really?”
I chose to ignore that. “Do I want to know why I’m nude?”
“The toxin was seeping out of your pores. Your clothing was ruined, and you were covered in it.” Ash didn’t think you’d want to wake in such a state,” he told me. “Aios removed your clothing and bathed you.”
Well, that was a relief.
Kind of.
“What kind of toxin?”
“The kind that Gyrms carry in their insides. It spreads through their mouths and nails.” He still hadn’t blinked. “The black streaks on your arms were the first sign. By the time Saion brought you in, those marks covered your entire body. You’re lucky you’re alive.”
My stomach dipped as my gaze shot to my forearm. There were no streaks other than the faint pink scratch marks.
I suddenly remembered what Ash had said about the serpents that had come out of the Hunters. Their bite was toxic. He’d failed to mention the Gyrms’ nails were, as well. “How long have I’ve been asleep?”
“A day,” he answered.
My heart thumped heavily once more. “Why am I not dead?”
“Ash had an antidote,” he stated. “A potion once derived from a plant grown just outside of the Shadowlands near the Red River. The blister weed stops the spread of the toxin, causing the body to expel it. There is very little of the potion to be found. His choice to give it to you saved your life, which was a surprise.”
I honestly had no idea what to say to that. “You think he should’ve let me die?”
A close-lipped smile appeared. “It would’ve served him better not to have given you the potion.”
My gaze lifted to him. “Because he’d be free of the deal then?”
Nektas nodded, confirming that he was one of the few who knew about the deal. “He’d be free of you.”
“Wow,” I murmured.
“I mean no offense,” he replied. “But he did not choose this deal.”
I held his unflinching stare. “Neither did I.”
“And yet, both of you are here.” Nektas lifted his brows. “And he saved your life when it only made sense to let you pass.”
There was a catch in my breath, making it difficult to follow Sir Holland’s instructions. “He probably felt bad,” I reasoned, unsure of why I was even speaking this aloud to the draken. “About the deal. He feels…obligated.”
A tight-lipped smile appeared. “I don’t think his decision had anything to do with that deal. I don’t think any of his recent decisions have.”
Aios arrived shortly after Nektas had left me in a state of confusion. He’d stepped out onto the balcony, and I held the sheet to my chest as she retrieved an ivory robe made of some soft fabric, my thoughts spinning from one thing to the next.
Everything that Ash had done—was doing—was because of the deal. No part of me didn’t believe that Ash felt an obligation toward me—a sense of responsibility I hoped to exploit.
The bitter taste still lingered in my mouth as Aios brought the robe over to me. “How are you feeling?” she asked. Her face was paler than normal. Concern pinched her brow.
“Not like I’ve been poisoned,” I admitted, tying the sash on the robe around my waist.
“I suppose that is a good thing.” She grabbed several pillows, fluffing them and then propping them against the head of the bed. “I’ll get you something to drink.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know.” Aios drifted toward the table, pushing up the sleeves of her sweater. “There are a lot of things I don’t have to do that I choose to do. This is one of them. Whiskey or water?”
I eased into the mound of pillows. “Whiskey. I could really use some whiskey.”
A small smile appeared. Picking up a crystal decanter, she poured amber liquid into a small glass then brought the drink over to me. “If this doesn’t upset your stomach, I imagine you’ll be able to handle some food shortly.”
I took a small sip of the smoky liquor, welcoming the bite as it traveled down my throat and blossomed in my chest. “Thank you.”
Nektas strode in from the balcony. “He comes.”
My hand trembled. The draken didn’t need to clarify who for me to know it was Ash. A nervous sort of energy invaded my senses, and I took a longer drink of the whiskey, downing half the glass. Swallowing, I glanced up.
Nektas stared at me.
“Would you like me to refill that?” Aios asked, grinning.
“No. That would…probably not be wise.”
“Why?” the draken asked.
“I’m more likely to do something that would fall under the whole getting-myself-in-trouble bit,” I admitted. What came out of my mouth next had to be the liquor already loosening my tongue. “Is the other Primal still here?”
“No.” The grin faded from Aios’s face. “She is gone.”
“For now,” Nektas tacked on. “She’ll be back.”
“True,” Aios murmured, glancing at the closed doors.
Neither of them gave me the impression that they were fans of Veses. Ector hadn’t either. When the doors opened, their reactions to the mention of Veses fell to the wayside. My entire being focused on Ash when he entered the bedchamber, especially that little ball of fuzzy warmth in my chest. I swore it buzzed happily as his gaze locked with mine.
I was also sure it wasn’t the whiskey that made up the little ball of warmth.
Aios and Nektas quickly made their way to the doors, but the draken stopped. “She’s worried about her alcohol consumption provoking her, allowing her to get into trouble.”
My jaw unlocked.
“Just thought you should be aware,” Nektas finished.
“Always good to be prepared,” the Primal murmured, and my eyes narrowed on him. A deep, raspy chuckle came from the draken as he closed the doors. Ash hadn’t taken his gaze off me.
I eyed him over the rim of my glass as I took a dainty sip. “I feel as if I’ve been wrongly labeled as a troublemaker.”
“Wrongly?” Ash approached the bed. He didn’t sit in the chair. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed beside me.
I nodded.
His gaze tracked slowly over my face. “How are you feeling? Minus the whiskey?”
“I feel…normal.” I lowered the glass to my lap. “Nektas told me you gave me a potion.”
“I did.”
“I don’t remember that.”
“You were going in and out of consciousness. I used a compulsion,” he said, and I inhaled sharply. “If I hadn’t, you would’ve died. But I am sorry for forcing you to do that. It was necessary, but force is not something I like to use.”
My gaze lifted to his, and a strange whirring sensation started in my chest that had nothing to do with the warmth or the whiskey. I thought of the friend he’d had to kill. “You’re being completely honest about that.”
“I am.”
“Thank you,” I murmured, thinking of what Nektas had said.
He watched me closely. “Thanking me is not necessary.”
“I thought you’d appreciate a show of gratitude.”
“Not when it involves your life.” A tremor coursed through me, and I lifted the glass, taking another drink as Ash studied me. “Does nothing faze you?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You almost died, and yet you seem unbothered by it.”
“Maybe it’s the whiskey.”
“It’s not.”
My eyes narrowed. “Are you reading my emotions?”
“A little.” His head cocked. “Only for a few seconds.”
“You should stop doing that, even for a few seconds.”