In the Wake of the Wicked (Veridian Empire #1)

41. Rose

41

Rose

“ W hen did you wake up?” Rissa asked, her eyes full of concern.

“Just a little while ago. I—I had to check on my family, to make sure—” I stammered over my words, unable to finish the sentence. Although there was more distance between us, Leo’s tail came out to skim against the back of my leg. His way of bringing comfort when I was on the verge of breaking again.

I swallowed. “My aunt said it’s been over two days. Is—is that true?” I directed the question to Leo, hoping I’d see reassurance in his eyes. Instead, I found grim resignation. He nodded. I gritted my teeth, pinching the bridge of my nose to hold back a fresh wave of distress. I hated this panic and dread. This weakness.

“I’m sorry, Rose. We had no idea what was happening until Lark filled us in at the start of the trial.” Rissa moved toward me, holding out a hand. “Do you want to talk about it?”

I shook my head, taking a step closer to Leo without meaning to. His tail flicked against my ankle, covered by the darkness of the night and thick underbrush at our feet. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate Rissa—I could tell how sincere she was, how worried they’d been for me. And the fact that they’d been here, waiting for me to wake up, pulled tight at the strings of my heart. I’d never had anyone besides my aunt, uncle, and Beau care enough.

But I was still far too on edge. Logically, I knew this was real and that the second trial was over. But logic and fear didn’t always agree. I was like a wounded animal, expecting a new threat around every corner, another trap about to snap me in its jaws.

For some reason, Leo made me feel safe. His intense, protective, surprisingly tender way of caring for those around him made me believe nothing could reach us.

“We need to let Lark know you’re awake,” he said gently. “The healers are supposed to examine each of you?—”

“I—I can’t go back there. Not right now,” I cut him off, blinking away the burning in my eyes. I was wholly aware that my brave veneer from the last week lay crumbled at my feet, but it wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen that before. “Please, don’t make me go back.”

“Leo—” Rissa began, but Leo shot her a look. A silent conversation took place between the twins. I didn’t care what “protocol” was—Horace had seen me, he could tell Lark and the others I’d finished the trial. There was no way I was walking back into that palace until I’d had time to process everything.

“It’s alright, Rose, you don’t have to go back right now,” he finally said. “We’ll take you to our cottage. You’re safe,” he reminded me. His deep voice seemed to calm the feral, anxious beast in me.

The three of us traveled south along the treeline until we came to two horses tied to a tree. Rissa mounted hers, while Leo approached Nightshade and held his hand out to me. My heart picked up speed as I took it, and I forced away the memory of the dapple-gray horse I’d chased after the carriage on.

That wasn’t real .

Leo situated himself behind me, his arms coming around my waist to grip the reins and steer our horse to follow Rissa’s. This was different from last time, when I’d tried so hard to keep my body away from his, each of us clinging to that shared bitterness. I let my heartbeats fall into step with the rhythmic cadence of Nightshade’s trot, finding comfort instead of irritation in Leo’s corded arms resting on my hips as the movement pushed me deeper into the saddle.

I’d spent my entire life keeping people at arm’s length where it mattered, allowing them access to the most shallow parts of me but never the hidden well of doubts and insecurities. Never to the heart. Physical contact was either a nuisance or a tool—even with my own family, I only tolerated their hugs and signs of compassion because I knew it mattered more to them than it did me. I wielded beauty and charm like a weapon, giving subtle touches and soft whispers to those who craved it in order to get what I wanted. Which was usually an escape, or simply blessed silence.

But with Leo…it wasn’t the same. I found myself seeking what I once thought was juvenile—a warm embrace, soothing words, a graze of a finger against my anxious pulse. Even now, on the back of this horse, our bodies forced together in a way that would have once made discomfort blare through me…I felt calm. As calm as I could be, anyway.

When the horse jolted and his hand shifted to my thigh, that calmness morphed into something more.

I wondered if his Shifter half made him able to sense the change in my heartbeats, the way my breath caught and then quickened, the pulse now fluttering at my neck. If he could tell that my muscles were still stretched as taut as a bowstring from those moments in the forest, when the feel of his skin beneath my fingertips banished the darkness and lit something new.

His chest straightened at my back, his single-handed grip on the reins making his knuckles turn white. The tip of his nose grazed my ear and, without thinking, I tilted my head to the left, an open challenge to see what he would do.

I didn’t even know what I wanted him to do. I’d once thought of him as a distraction—someone who just so happened to be around when my world was caving in, an easy way to distance myself from memories too unbearable to face. Maybe that’s what I needed again .

But he knew it, too. He let out a long breath and pressed his forehead into the back of my head before pulling away. “I won’t be a way for you to ignore your problems, Rose,” he whispered. Not accusatory, but tenderly. With a hint of strain, as if he were refraining from doing exactly that. “You need to rest. I promise, we can talk later.”

Instead of the sting of rejection, his words left me surprisingly…at peace. Full instead of hollow. I settled against him, and as his hand splayed protectively across my stomach, I felt like something cherished. Something precious worth holding as opposed to wielding.

And just for this moment, I pretended it was true.

When we reached the cottage, I’d calmed enough for exhaustion to creep in. Every inch of me was tired. My eyelids were barely able to stay open as Leo helped me dismount. I slumped against him, nearly falling over my own feet while he guided me through the doors.

“What’s wrong with her?” I heard him ask, but it sounded distant and muffled, my brain already halfway asleep.

“It’s that potion,” Rissa answered. “Lark said it had side effects. That’s why she wanted her to see a healer when she woke up, but…”

My neck rolled onto my shoulder. Leo put a hand behind my knees and easily swept me off the floor. I inhaled the scent of sandalwood and vanilla mixed with the night’s wind and leaves.

“You saw how she reacted,” he said, charged and defensive. “I wasn’t about to force her back to the palace. Lark will get over it.”

Rissa gave an exasperated sigh, one I recognized all too well as the sound of an older sibling resisting the urge to throttle their little brother. “You don’t have to snap at me, Leo. I’m not arguing with you. Just take care of her, alright?”

“I can still hear you, you know,” I mumbled into Leo’s chest. Big hands cradled me closer as he carried me across the living room. I peeked out from my fortress to see us entering a narrow hallway, one I hadn’t noticed the last times I’d been here. Three doors lined the path, and when he carefully kicked one of them open, it revealed a small, neat bedroom.

A large bed rested against the center of the back wall, black sheets and a slate gray blanket folded on top. In the corner beneath a window stood a desk and wooden chair, and next to it, a waist-high bookshelf with a handful of books stacked on the shelves. I would bet anything they were in alphabetical order—unlike my own collection at home, which was organized by whatever mood I’d been in at the time. There were hardly any personal items or pieces of decor, besides a framed photo of Leo, Rissa, and what I assumed were his parents atop the desk.

The sight of Branock Aris sent a pang through me—he looked so much like Leo, with their strong jaws, sharp eyes, and dark hair. I turned away, too weary to give that man any more of my attention.

“Room could use a bit of color, Aris,” I taunted weakly, covering my yawn with the back of my hand as he set me on the edge of his bed.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He lowered to his knees before me, and suddenly, my exhaustion slipped away.

“What are you doing?”

He glanced up with a smirk that sent a horde of butterflies loose in my stomach. Silently, he reached for my right ankle, gripping my calf as he slowly pulled my boot off. Even through my leggings, the heat of his touch was searing. He moved to my other boot and repeated the process without taking his eyes off me, his fingers lingering on the inside of my leg.

I bit my bottom lip. He was toying with me, as I’d often done to him. Helping take my mind off the terrors pressing against me.

It was working.

He stood and made his way to the head of the bed. Pulling the sheets back, he beckoned me to climb under them. The soft fabric beneath my fingers was a welcoming embrace, making my eyelids grow heavy as he positioned the blanket around me. The bed shifted when he eased himself off, and I threw out my arm to grab his hand.

“Wait—where are you going?” I asked sleepily.

“To talk with my sister. Go to sleep, little wolf. It’s late.”

My limbs felt like lead and I couldn’t pry my eyes open, but I held onto his fingers for a moment longer. “Will you come back?”

He paused, then asked, “Do you want me to?”

The effects of the potion, my own sleep-deprived mind, and the security of finally being somewhere safe seemed to have completely erased my filter for the night. “Yes,” I slurred, my arm falling and tucking beneath me as I curled under the blanket. “I want you to come back.”

The only response was something soft skimming my cheek as sleep dragged me below the surface.